Page 71 of Burn this City

“How are you going to do it?” Jack remained tense around the shoulders.

Spadaro stood. “You’ll help me get me in there. Call Andrea, say you’re bringing a girl to the party. Tell him whatever you need to get past security.”

“Hold on, what girl?”

“The girl’s me.” Spadaro gave one of those unsettling, all-teeth barracuda grins. “Done it before, killed half a dozen Russians. Stupid men don’t feel threatened by a girl.”

Jack frowned but didn’t seem to have an immediate response.

Even Sal needed a moment to compute what Spadaro had said, but unlike Jack, he assumed, he could see it. Spadaro’s slim build with his long legs, smooth skin and androgynous features already took him halfway there, so who knew what Spadaro could do with some makeup and a wig? “I like it. Can you demonstrate the look?”

“Sure can.” Spadaro picked up his helmet. “I’ll need to get a few things. Does he have any preference? Is there a dress code?”

“Uhm. Blonde. No dress code. Sexy, I guess.”

Spadaro acknowledged that with a nod and was out of the door. They all looked at each other for a few seconds. “I can’t show up with a drag act,” Jack finally said. “If Andrea has even the slightest suspicion, I’m dead. And so’s he.”

“Let’s see what he comes up with. If it’s not good enough to fool Andrea long enough to get close to him, we’ll come up with a different idea.” Sal leaned back in his chair. “Though I’ll say I like the idea that Andrea will get killed by a guy in dress.”

“I hope he blows Andrea’s head off while he’s groping him.” Enzo laughed.

Sal grinned, though based on the caution in Jack’s eyes, Jack didn’t find it funny. Hopefully he would in time.

38

“Aguy in dress.”

Jack wasn’t sure that was what he was seeing when Spadaro returned. He was the least one here qualified to make a judgment, but Spadaro wore the heels and small black dress with the same ease as he’d worn the tailored suit or the motorcycle gear. For all his striking appearance, he possessed that intangible quality of models or actors whose personality shifted depending on their roles or clothes and make-up. And while those black eyes hadn’t changed in the slightest and were places without light or much in the way of emotion, Spadaro flicked open candy-colored sunglasses that perfectly matched the lipstick and hid them away, leaving a leggy, somewhat angular girl with jaw-length platinum-blonde hair holding a rhinestone- encrusted silver clutch in front of her.

“I guess what shocks me most is that you can walk in those,” Sal said.

Spadaro kept his focus on Jack. “Your call. You okay to risk it?”

“If you’re trying to get … close to Andrea, his type is more curvy.”

“I’ll handle that part.” Spadaro kept looking at him. “I need you to not get jittery. Can you act as if we know each other well?”

Can you?Well, yes. “You mean, get familiar?”

“If necessary. Wouldn’t send the right message if I sit on your lap and you freak out.”

Oh Jesus. Jack swallowed and nodded. “Sure, okay.” Anything that helped to get this over with. If it helped Spadaro to kill Andrea, and if that was how he wanted to play it, Jack could assist. Hell, a few days ago he’d seriously considered marrying a woman and playing a straight man for the rest of his life. He could play that role for a few hours—no marriage necessary, and even better because it didn’t involve a friend who had no idea what she was getting herself into.

That seemed to be enough for Spadaro, who vanished again to “refine the look”. Jack caught a grin from Enzo and shrugged.

“Did your visit to the Ayutthaya go well?” Jack asked, mostly to say something.

“He didn’t talk much, which was cool with me, but I bet he’s got some interesting stories.” Enzo leaned forward. “So, we’re taking out Andrea tonight. I’m going to handle the capos and some of the soldiers with the boys and Spadaro can join us when he’s done. We’ll hunt down the others over the next twenty-four hours. Jack, is there anybody else who’d flip too?”

Jack had pondered that question distantly a few times. Was there a man whose life he should be saving? A few had grumbled about Andrea’s leadership style, but there were no outright rebels—the takings had been too good, and the troops had been happy with the money they’d been making, so morale was solid. If anything, a level of sated complacency had settled in, which wasn’t in and of itself a bad thing. After the War, not living tooth and claw had been welcome.

The truth was, while he liked a few made men more than others, he wasn’t close with anybody these days. Tony hadn’t survived the last War, and Jack had kept his distance emotionally, also because he had to be seen as impartial. He was considered efficient, disinterested when it came to business conflicts, and smart, and none of those made him top of the list when it came to hanging out, having fun, or even becoming the godfather of children.

“No, I don’t think so.” And like that, a weight dropped off his shoulders—he’d served their interests so long, had judged fairly, had punished and reined in where necessary and possible, but aside from Tony, or moments of comradery, he’d simply gotten used to these men the same way he’d gotten used to fellow prisoners. Over the years, there were a few he’d considered friends, but he’d seen too much betrayal and self-interest to ever turn his back. Strange to now condemn the all of them to death, though.

“Not your call,” Sal reminded him, and placed a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “But that keeps it simple. Also, once Andrea’s down, we’ll access the accounts and the rest. Who else has access to the finances?”

Yes. That. Jack had expected Sal to confront him about the money and passwords, but he hadn’t. He’d secured everything again as leverage, expecting to have to prove or negotiate his value in the days after Andrea had fallen, because he was still the man who held the purse strings. Sal’s tone indicated he assumed Jack would cooperate when it came to the money, as if they were real allies, co-conspirators, and after what had happened in the bedroom, Jack felt he could trust him. Silly. Naïve. But he had no emotional reserves left to fight. Maybe he could trust one man in his life.

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