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“Yes, but I can disable them.”
Rapp nodded. “Okay. Grisha and I can handle this. We’ll stun gun them and drag them into the room when Donatella gives us the signal.”
“How are we getting the body out?” Black asked.
“I didn’t see any reason not to just stick with the classics,” Rapp responded.
“Laundry cart?” Donatella said.
“Exactly.”
Claudia switched to a shot of a woman in a maid’s uniform pushing a cart large enough to cram bin Musaid into.
“This will be in Donatella’s room and I’m having a uniform made for her.” She glanced in the former model’s direction. “Size eight?”
Donatella’s eyes narrowed dangerously.
“Is it common for one of those carts to be on that floor?” Rapp asked. He knew the answer but was anxious to break the death stare the women had fixed on each other.
“No,” Claudia responded, turning back toward him. “But all we have to do is get it to the elevator. Then I can send you nonstop to the basement.”
“What about me?” Black said.
“You have a top-floor flat to the west of Terry’s. There’s a good-sized private terrace for you to set your rifle up on. The range is just over five hundred meters, but light winds are forecasted throughout the week.”
“Doesn’t sound like there will be anything to shoot at,” he said, disappointed.
“The hope is that you’ll just be spotting for us,” Rapp said. “But you know what hope’s worth.”
Claudia turned toward the Russian, who was now perusing the bar’s bourbon selection. “Any luck, Grisha?”
“I know two of the men in these pictures. One more I have a passing acquaintance with.”
“Okay,” she said. “Can you show me which ones? I can start getting background on their movements and find out if they have reservations at the club going forward. Why don’t the rest of you go pick out your bedrooms?”
Black grabbed his duffle and disappeared almost immediately. Donatella took her time, pausing next to Rapp as she passed. “It’s a very romantic
boat, no? Perhaps we should meet on the upper deck later. Say, midnight?”
“Give it a rest, Donatella.”
“Ah, yes. The little French girl. She’s quite beautiful. Why don’t you ask her to join us?”
* * *
Rapp leaned against the bow rail and stared out at the city lights. Fifty yards to his left, a yacht even larger than theirs was crawling with noisy kids who looked to be in their early twenties. The champagne was flowing and an increasing number of girls were abandoning their bikini tops. When he was that age, he’d thought a scholarship to Syracuse, a suburban girlfriend, and a six-pack of Busch was a pretty good deal.
He heard footsteps coming up behind him on the deck but didn’t bother to turn. He’d been living with Claudia long enough to know her gait.
“Everyone’s asleep,” she said, slipping her arms around him. “Are you coming to bed? Or are you going to join the party on the other boat?”
“It’s a nice night. I thought I’d enjoy it for a while. Did you talk to Anna? How is she?”
“Good. She’s on her way to see Tommy’s lacrosse match with Irene but asked me to remind you to wear your seat belt.”
They’d told her that the injuries he’d suffered in Pakistan were the result of a car crash. Now she was obsessed with what she perceived to be his unsafe driving habits.
“Have you ironed out all the details?” he asked.
