Killing Sarai

56

Victor

I stop Sarai at the doors to the suite and turn her around to face me, my hands on her arms. I shake her. “Listen to me,” I say and she raises her eyes. “You’re still in character when we walk out of here. Act as you did before any of this happened. Do you understand?” I shake her again.

She nods erratically and then takes a deep breath, swallowing the lump in her throat.

We step out into the hall and I turn the lock on the inside of the suite door before closing it. How safely we get out of this mansion and off this property all now lies in the hands of Hamburg. If he decides he wants us dead more than he wants to stay out of prison and lose his entire fortune, then the next five minutes are going to be complicated. I have one weapon, the gun from the briefcase in the closet. Nine bullets are in the chamber. I’m not entirely confident that I can take out the guards who will be shooting at us with only nine bullets. If I were alone and didn’t have Sarai to protect, I could pull it off.

“Head up,” I whisper harshly to Sarai on my right.

She raises her chin and I slip my hand around her waist as we walk casually toward the glass elevator. The two guards who had been positioned outside Hamburg’s room are nowhere to be seen, but there is one at the end of the hall. Like the others, he’s wearing an earpiece. We walk by him casually and Sarai works her charm, smiling a venomous little smile at him. Beguiled by her, he grins like an idiot until the elevator drops us below his floor.

“Ah, there you are,” Vince Shaw, Hamburg’s assistant says as we exit the elevator on the ground floor. “Are the two of you leaving already? You should stay a while longer. Lucinda is going to play for us tonight.” He stands with his hands folded neatly in front of him.

I smile and shake my head. “I would love to, but I have an early flight to catch.”

“But I want to stay,” Sarai says as Izabel and with a little whine in her voice.

“Not this time,” I say. “You know I always miss an early flight when I don’t get at least six hours of sleep the night before.”

“Please, Victor?” She lays her head on my arm.

I ignore her artificial efforts altogether and reach out to shake Vince’s hand.

“It was a pleasure to meet you,” I say.

“You as well. Perhaps you can enjoy the party longer next time.”

“Perhaps.”

I pull Sarai along next to me as we head toward the exit. Just before we make it to the tall double-doors, I hear Hamburg’s voice carry through the mansion from the balcony of the fourth floor and we stop cold in our tracks.

“Victor Faust,” he calls out over the crowd.

I feel Sarai’s heart beating in her hand as she grasps mine.

I step away from the door and back into the light so that I can see him fully. He has cleaned up nicely in such a short time, his dress shirt tucked back inside his slacks, his gray hair that had been drenched by sweat, slicked back over his head likely by his fingers rather than a comb.

The moment of silence, although only a few seconds at best, is tense. I think Sarai has stopped breathing.

Hamburg smiles down at us, his hands resting over the balcony railing.

“I look forward to seeing you again,” he says.

I nod. “Until then,” I say.

The doorman swings one side of the door open for us as we exit the mansion. Neither of us feel safe until we drive the length of the two-acre driveway and are allowed past the front gate without being stopped or shot at.