Page 20 of Harris

“Our associate was able to place two transmitters,” Conor explained. “The one we’re seeing is near the old jukebox, and the second is on a ledge in the hallway leading to the bathrooms.”

“He did a great job,” Woodley said. “At least now we can ID some regulars and the owners.”

“Yeah, Spencer’s already got a handful of names from these two cameras alone. They’ve paid off,” Gunner said.

Woodley watched as customers came and went, with multiple criminal offenses taking place out in the wide open. Drug deals, prostitution, weapons offenses, and gambling. It was a cornucopia of sin and indulgence. His life enforcing the law urged him to do something, but his common sense won. They were here for a larger purpose than busting a few lowlifes.

“The bartender goes by the name Jaws. His real name is Frank Spelt from Anaheim, California,” Gunner explained.

Woodley watched the tall, slender man pour another draft beer and hand it off to a man who could barely stand for beingdrunk. Overserving and cleanliness didn’t appear to be a concern here. However, when the bartender opened his mouthto speak, Woodley discovered the real reason for his nickname. His teeth were covered in silver metal, and the light from the overhead lighting reflected off them,giving the guy a predatory appearance.

“Charming,” Conor chuckled. “Bet it’s a bitch getting through airport security with those chompers.”

“Hell, does he go to the dentist or a blacksmith?” Woodley laughed.

Gunner’s chuckle was cut short when he homed in on someone coming down the sidewalk. He went on alert, as did Conor.

“Hey, isn’t that the Joe guy from the bar back at the hotel?” Gunner asked.

Woodley and Conor concentrated on where Gunner was staring.

“Shit. It’s him,” Woodley agreed. “No doubt, coming to report in.”

“I’ll get the boss on the line,” Conor said as he pulled out his cell phone.

“Well, well, well. Looks like the chickens come home to roost,” Gunner said.

“More like a snake slithering back to its hole,” Woodley commented, causing Conor and Gunner to laugh.

“Don’t like the guy moving in on your territory, dude,” Gunner said.

“He’s part of the Noah Group,” Woodley shot back. Besides, the guy didn’t have a chance to pick up Harris. He’d had zero game.

“Sure, sure. That’s all it is,” Gunner agreed in amusement.

Seeing the big sniper wearing a grin was odd, and Woodley decided not to bother arguing.Let him have the win.

Conor hung up his call just as Joe opened the door to the bar and walked inside. They watched his progress on the monitor. Joe nodded at the bartender on his way past the bar top and headed through to the hallway, but instead of entering the men’s restroom as they’d expected, he stopped in front of a brick wall at the end of the hall, looked around,and pushed on one of the bricks.

All three men gasped when a portion of the brick wall slid aside, and Joe bent over and walked through the openingbefore it closed again and disappeared seamlessly into the background.

“Holy shit,” Woodley huffed. “That’s some serious spy shit.”

“A bolt-hole,” Gunner said. “We need to get our eyes back there.”

“Agreed,” Conor said. “By the way, the guy was scared.”

“Joe was scared?” Woodley asked.

“Yes, the moment he walked into the bar, it spiked. Like he was dreading going in.”

“I wonder if that’s because he failed to bring back his prisoner,” Woodley said, the word “prisoner” raw in his throat.

“Likely,” Conor agreed. “He has to answer to someone.”

“I’d like to know who that someone is,” Gunner said.

“Me too.”

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