Page 20 of Shift of Destiny
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Lawrence Witzer maintained surface calm as overly muscular, sharp-faced Clay Pruhon, dressed in a silver jumpsuit, climbed into the back seat of Lawrence’s custom-built, armored limousine. His driver had parked them in the dirt lot of a salvage yard full of machinery parts, which was as close as they could get to camouflaging its distinctive wide, military shape. He’d paid an exorbitant sum to have it flown in with Pruhon’s men, but he was not going to manage an invasion from a surplus infantry mobility vehicle.
Pruhon’s alpha power was almost palpable, even to normal people. Lawrence trusted Pruhon’s human greed would keep the wolf part of him in check. But just in case, he had positioned quick-acting wolf-shifter tranquilizer guns in multiple locations. The eleven wolves were greedy, hot-headed, and careless, but perfect as secret weapons, hidden among Pruhon’s security company of human mercenaries.
“The main operation is going like we planned.” Pruhon tapped the microphone in his ear, indicating he’d been in touch with his teams. “But we haven’t located Graham yet. The store where my scout tracked her to is dark and closed up tight.”
Pruhon’s chiding tone rankled, but Lawrence ignored it. He was a much better businessman than Pruhon, and his instincts had urged him to move up the operation by a day. They could catch Graham later, at their leisure. The wolves by themselves had failed to catch her for three years, but after tonight, he’d have a dozen or more psychics under his control.
He’d hardly believed his eyes when he’d watched the video of Graham walking down the street. Divine intervention had Pruhon’s scout stopping in the sleepy, foothills tourist-trap for gas, and following Graham’s scent into Wyoming and the resort town of Kotoyeesinay.
At first, Lawrence had sneered at the ridiculous names for the businesses that preyed on the gullible, but he’d been struck by a thought. What if Kotoyeesinay held the motherlode of psychics, hidden in plain sight? A quick call to one of his contract sorcerers confirmed that Kotoyeesinay was all Lawrence thought it was and more. It was ripe for the plucking, and Lawrence was just the bold man to do it. They might have psychics, but he had wealth and wolves.
He’d quickly schemed with Pruhon to mobilize his pack and every available human operative to lure the psychics into their snares and spirit them away under the cover of darkness. The high valley on the other side of the mountain was the perfect landing spot for helicopters. He’d keep the best psychics for himself, and quietly auction off the rest.
Lawrence drummed his fingers on the phone that rested on his thigh. “Graham is a lower priority than tonight’s mission.” He still planned to catch and keep her, however, in case she was still the key to his success. Destiny was sometimes a willful bitch.
Pruhon cleared his throat. “We may have another problem.”
“Tell me.”
“Your sons went off the radar in Miami two days ago, and we can’t find them.”
Lawrence drilled Pruhon with his gaze. “And you’re just telling me now?”
Pruhon visibly bristled. “I didn’t know until a few hours ago. They’ve been pissy for days, but they really got mad when I removed Richie Traidor, like you ordered. They ditched their security detail. They obviously figured out we’d bugged them, after the last time they pulled that stunt, so they took a taxi to a thrift store and left their clothes in the changing room, then vanished. They aren’t losing money in Atlantic City or losing their virginity again in the club in the Dallas, and they aren’t having a party at any of your properties.”
Adam and Zed had been thorns in his side from the moment they were born, and were constantly plotting harebrained schemes to get control of his companies, instead of waiting their turn like he’d had to do with his father. If they messed up his deal of a lifetime, the one he desperately needed Moira for, he’d feed them to Pruhon’s wolves.
“Dammit, I don’t have time for their bullshit.” Lawrence crossed his arms. “Put Traidor back on their detail. Maybe he can track them down.”
“I’ll call him in.” Pruhon pulled out his phone and rapidly typed a text message.
Lawrence uncrossed his legs. “Back to your report. How many have we got so far?”
“Six. No muss, no fuss, sleeping in the vans.” Pruhon’s eyes narrowed in thought, and he frowned.
“What?” asked Lawrence.
“Little things. My wolves keep complaining about smelling pine air freshener. The streets are too deserted for a tourist town, except near the casino.” He folded his hands together. “I know you paid a lot for the scent and psychic shields, and the ‘I’m your best friend’ charms for each of us, but this seems too easy.”
It was Lawrence’s turn to frown. “I see your point.” He drummed his fingers. “Let’s bring in the rest of the teams now.”
“All of them at once in a town this size? That won’t be very quiet.” Pruhon smiled, clearly pleased by the prospect.
“I don’t care. I want to get everyone we can now, and get out. We can sort them out later.” Lawrence grinned and pointed to the futuristic helmet in Pruhon’s hand. “After all, who’s going to believe anyone in a town full of psychics who claim they were abducted by aliens?”
