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“Towel,” Janic growled.
Orin hurried to the chair where a folded towel lay, grabbed it, and brought it to his boss.
Janic dried off as he walked briskly toward the exit. “Who was in charge there?”
“Marceta.”
“And he’s dead, too?”
“Yes, sir.”
Janic cursed. Marceta had been a rising talent in Janic’s organization. Young, but levelheaded and smart. “How many assholes did our people take out?”
“As far as we can tell, none.”
Janic halted and stared at Orin. “None?”
“No, sir. It appears that, um, Marceta and his team were caught by surprise.”
“What do you mean surprise? They didn’t even get a shot off?”
“That’s what it looks like.”
“How is that even possible?”
“We’re not entirely sure. We’re still investigating.”
“Do we at least know who it was?”
Once again, Orin hesitated.
Janic narrowed his eyes. “What are you not telling me?”
“There are indications that Simon Lazovic’s people might be involved.”
“What indications?”
“A pistol was found. Not one of ours. Its serial number matches a gun from that shipment Lazovic stole last year. From that train heist in Serbia.”
The pressure in Janic’s skull increased tenfold.
Simon Lazovic.
That son of a bitch had been nothing but trouble. It was a little strange that he had targeted this particular hideout, but one-off attacks like this between groups wasn’t uncommon. Janic needed to put an end to him. But that would need to wait. Right now, he had something more important and urgent that needed his full attention.
In less than two days, his revenge on Carl Novak would be completed. Until the man received the devastating news of his wife’s death, Janic didn’t want to focus on anything else.
After that, he could worry about Lazovic.
“Find out everything you can,” he said. “We need to be certain it’s them before we do anything.”
“Yes, sir.”
46
“You’re Mark Weldon!” A beautiful, dark-haired woman stood in the middle of the Santa Barbara Hills Hotel lobby, one hand gripping the suitcase she’d been pulling, the other pointing at Teddy, as if she needed to make sure he knew she was talking about him.
“Would you believe me if I told you I wasn’t?”
