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“You came highly recommended,” the voice on the other end of the phone said, in a tone that indicated skepticism of the recommendation, and that flicked Marsh on the raw.
“I’ve always delivered,” he said harshly. “Always.”
“See that you do.”
The dead air at the other end told Marsh his employer had disconnected. He didn’t bother to curse the man, though he wanted to, because Marsh had only himself to blame. “No more excuses,” he muttered. “No more failures.” His reputation was on the line. Which meant his livelihood was on the line.
Which meant the senator had to die. Before it was too late.
* * *
Shane put Carly’s two suitcases down and fished a key out of his pocket. He inserted it in the lock, then punched in a digital code. He waited five seconds, then punched in a second code before turning the key. A faint bell-like sound told him he’d been successful, so he twisted the doorknob and opened the door.
“Hang tight,” he told Carly as he slipped inside and closed the door behind him. He didn’t turn on the lights, just moved swiftly to the lighted panel on the wall near the door. He keyed in the code his brother had given him, then waited.
After a few seconds a green light flashed. “Code confirmed,” said a computerized voice. “Thumbprint, please.”
Shane pressed his thumb against the touch screen.
After a few seconds a second green light flashed on beside the first. “Thumbprint confirmed. Name, please.”
“Shane Thermopolis Jones.” Thermopolis wasn’t his middle name. It actually belonged to his youngest brother, Liam. Shane’s real middle name was Breckenridge, because his mother had named him for the place he’d been conceived—which she’d done for all her children, to their secret and not-so-secret embarrassment.
But Niall had used Liam’s middle name deliberately, in case someone had forced Shane this far at gunpoint. All Shane had to do was use his real middle name, and the silent alarm would go off, notifying the alarm company, the police and Niall’s agency.
After a few seconds a third green light flashed on, making three in a row.
“Name confirmed,” the computerized voice said. “Welcome, Senator. Please make yourself at home.” The hallway and living room lights came on automatically, and the lights on the panel turned off.
Shane opened the door. “Come on in,” he told Carly, picking up her suitcases and bringing them inside, then bolting the door behind her. Carly was carrying Shane’s one suitcase, which she put down when she reached the living room. She turned in a circle, taking everything in with wide-eyed astonishment before asking, “What is this place?”
Chapter 11
Shane couldn’t blame Carly for her reaction. Niall’s condo was like something out of a futuristic sci-fi movie, with sleek chrome and glass tables, white leather modular couches and recliner, and techno-geek gadgets everywhere. Shane had been here a few times before when his brother was in town, but it still amazed him. And it seemed as if every time he visited, something new had been added.
The high-tech security system was just the beginning. Shane picked up a remote from the coffee table and pressed a button. White enamel-coated vertical steel blinds parted smoothly, electronically, in the center of the south wall, revealing a picture window that took up most of that wall and presented an incredible view of the DC skyline, albeit a slightly muted one.
Carly was drawn to the window at first, then turned, a puzzled expression on her face. “The glass,” she began, but Shane anticipated her question.
“Double-paned. And each pane is an inch thick. Tempered glass.”
She touched one of the blinds, obviously testing its weight. “This is steel,” she stated, as if she couldn’t quite believe it.
“Yeah. The glass will stop most bullets, but when the blinds are closed this place is like a fortress.” He smiled faintly. “The walls are reinforced concrete and rebar. Both doors are steel, too.”
“Who lives here?” She glanced around again before meeting Shane’s eyes. “Not you.”
He shook his head. “Not my idea of home. Too sterile, for one thing. And though it’s more comfortable than it looks, I’d hate being constantly reminded that violent death is only a heartbeat away.” He pressed another button on the remote, and the blinds slid closed as quietly as they’d opened.
