He laughed and pulled out his PDA to send a message. “Done.”

“Thank you, darling.” Sofia skimmed his mouth with hers. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Kratos watched her depart, feeling a pull in his groin. Even after two children she was still striking, and he knew he was the envy of other men. He had chosen well. He stretched out his legs, pleased with

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his life. Gregor entered followed by the maid, who pushed a cart laden with more coffee and pastries. She arranged these on the table and quickly left without making eye contact with either man.

“You’re up early,” Kratos said. Much of Gregor’s part of the business involved meetings with men who spent their nights in bars or private clubs and didn’t go to bed until after sunrise. Ordinarily, his brother’s day began at three in the afternoon.

“I felt the need for confession this morning,” Gregor said, helping himself to coffee.

“And now you feel closer to God?” Kratos laughed.

“God’s money, definitely.”

“I take it our religious friend enjoyed his evening out.”

“Not only the evening, but the company.” Gregor tilted back in his chair with a smirk. “Apparently one of the girls twists his crank in just the right direction. He wants her again.”

“How soon?”

“Whatever she did to him, he’s addicted. As soon as we can set something up.”

Kratos frowned. The interruption in their supply lines from the port, coupled with a lapse in security at one of the Russian safe houses, had strained their escort business. If all their girls were out on private calls, it was difficult to set up a group gathering quickly. “Will he solo?”

“No. He thinks he’s more anonymous if he’s with the others.”

Gregor laughed. “Who knows. Maybe he’s secretly a homo, and he gets off watching the other guys get their pipes cleaned.”

“Can we accommodate him?”

“We’ve got a couple other clients who are hot for an instant replay.

That makes it worth setting up something soon. Maybe the weekend.”

“What about the girl he wants?”

Gregor shrugged. “She’s one of the Russians. They can’t seem to keep track of their merchandise. Hopefully they haven’t lost her.” He finished his cheese Danish and brushed off his hands. “I’ll tell them to bring the same group as the last time. A few others want the same girls too. Jesus, you’d think when you were paying for it, all you’d care about was the pussy, not who it belonged to.”

“These are discerning men,” Kratos said dryly.

“Yeah, right.” Gregor squeezed his crotch and shook his head.

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“Set it up. Let me know if you have any problems.”

“I’ll put a call in to Olik.”

“Good.” Kratos checked his watch. “I’ve got a meeting with the board in an hour. Anything else?”

“Yeah. The Russians are grumbling. They want to know when they can start bringing girls in again. They’re running short in the clubs too.”

Kratos lifted the report he’d been reading and smiled. “I got an update this morning from Talia. She’s not only beautiful, she’s good.”

“Have you had a piece of that yet?”

Kratos had a quick flash of Talia’s smile as she denied him, and his temper spiked along with his erection. Determined not to give his brother the satisfaction of seeing his frustration, he ignored the uncomfortable throbbing in his groin. He’d have her soon enough. He could tell she was enjoying the game, but she was as ready as he was for it to end. “She’s been able to hack into the HPCU databases. They’re pulling back surveillance at the port.”

“Ha. Why?”

“Lack of manpower. And they couldn’t trace anything in the computers.” Kratos smiled with satisfaction. “Security will be tightened temporarily, but it shouldn’t take long to loosen up. It’s a big port and it costs money to keep a big security force.”

“What can I tell the Russians about resuming business as usual?”

“Tell them soon.”

“What else do they have?” Gregor asked, indicating the papers resting under Kratos’s hand.

“They’re focusing their investigation on the Russians, but thus far they’ve only identified a few street-level numbers runners. Nothing in our line of work.”

“Nothing to worry about, then.”

“No,” Kratos murmured, reaching down to adjust himself, letting his hand linger for a few seconds on the turgid reminder of his own power and prowess. “Nothing to worry about at all.”

v

Bishop Thomas opened the door to his study and motioned Rebecca inside, checking up and down the hall as if to be certain they

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were alone. Before the door had even closed behind her, he said sharply,

“I hope this is the last time.”

“Problem?” Rebecca reached for the credit card–sized recorder he passed to her over his desk. The thin wires leading to a microphone the size of a shirt button were barely visible to the naked eye.

“No.” He sat down behind his desk, his expression registering distaste. “He has no reason to be suspicious.”

“Good.”

“I can’t carry that to the meeting.”

Rebecca smiled thinly. “Meeting. Is that what you call it?”

He clenched his jaw and didn’t answer.

“Why not? Do they search you?”

He looked affronted. “Of course not. We’re paying them to see that we are protected. Just the same, it would be too easy for one of the women to find it.”

“The girls, you mean. The underage girls providing you with sexual services.” Rebecca remembered the pictures of the teenagers servicing him. He should be behind bars, and in all likelihood, the worst that would happen to him was that he would be transferred to another prestigious diocese in another city. She wondered if letting Talia Ballenger walk away was as difficult for Sloan as allowing this man go practically unpunished was for her.

“You have no right to put my life at risk.”

Rebecca shot up so quickly he flinched back in his chair. She leaned over his desk, her arms braced on either side of his expensive leather blotter. “The minute you put your hands on one of those girls you gave me the right to do whatever I want.”

“I’ve paid you back.”

“Not enough,” Rebecca whispered. “Not nearly enough.”

v

Rebecca placed the recorder in the center of the conference table.

“Jason, it’s all yours. Another link in the chain. I want a copy secured off-site. Nothing about this goes into the central records system.”

“Our network is completely separate from anything at One Police Plaza.” Sloan grinned. “And about a thousand times better.”

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“I hope so,” Rebecca said.

Jason, seated next to Sloan, picked up the small device. “Have you listened to it?”

“No. I didn’t trust myself not to ram it up his ass,” Rebecca said tightly.

“What about Irina’s sister?” Mitchell asked. “Did he say anything about her?”

“He was instructed to ask for the same girls as last time. He’s smart enough to do as he’s told at this point.”

Watts grunted. “He’s not as smart as he thinks. We’re going to bust him with the rest of those pervs, right, Loo?”

“We are.” Rebecca sighed. “But he’s probably going to get a walk on most of the charges. And no official record of any of them. But his superiors will be informed. That’s nonnegotiable.”

“It’s not right,” Mitchell muttered.

Rebecca swung around in her chair. “You’re right. It isn’t. But we trade up, or we get nothing.”

“I know.” Mitchell stared at the table, a muscle quivering along the edge of her jaw. “But it blows.”

Watts laughed. “You keep getting pissed off about pricks like this getting a deal, kid. It’ll keep your edge.”

“Sloan?” Rebecca asked. “Something for me?”

“Zamora got the package from Talia. It’s going to take Jason and me a few days to comb through his system, but he downloaded her report with what she supposedly found in our records. And left a little present behind.”

“So he thinks we’re getting nowhere at the port, correct?” Rebecca confirmed.

“Yes. By the time they start up their operations again, we should have traps in place to detect when they start manipulating the records of the containers coming in and their positions on the docks. We’ll be able to track them.”

“Even if Ballenger is behind it?”

“She won’t be,” Sloan said with certainty. “She’s too smart not to know when she’s out of the game.”

“Won’t Zamora be suspicious if she pulls out?” Mitchell asked.

“As far as he’ll know, thanks to the disinformation we’re feeding

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him,” Sloan said, “it’s safe to keep using the same system they had.”

She shrugged. “By the time they find out otherwise, I imagine she’ll be long gone.”

“So,” Rebecca said, surveying the team. “We’re just waiting for the last link in the chain. This tape ties Gregor to the girls, and when we have him, we’ll get his brother.” Everyone looked at Mitchell. “Now we need the Russians to make a clean sweep of all the garbage.”

“I guess I’m up tomorrow night,” Mitchell said.

“You’re ready.” Rebecca stood. “That’s it, then. Game’s on.”

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ChAPTER TwENTy-EIghT

Sandy checked her makeup in the bathroom mirror. The bruise along her jaw was still visible, but that wasn’t anything unusual for girls in her line of work. Her lip was puffy, but it didn’t hurt anymore. She cupped her breasts and jiggled them a little inside the tight white lycra top to get as much bang out of her minimal cleavage as she could. Then she shimmied into her miniskirt and pulled on knee-high white vinyl boots with three-inch heels.