Page 64 of Tom Clancy Line of Sight
Dom followed Lisanne into the cabin. The item Dom had requested sat on the polished rosewood table in a plastic case about the size of a paperback, along with three holstered SIG Sauer P938 Micro-Compact nine-millimeter pistols and extra mags. The single-stacked, 6 + 1 SIGs were built for concealed carry, not combat operations, but were handy enough in a pinch. Better a peashooter in the pocket than a .45 in the truck, his twin brother, Brian, had always said.
Where did that come from?Dom asked himself. Man, he missed that guy. Dead for too many years.
Dom snatched up the plastic case Lisanne had retrieved but passed on the weapons.
“I’m not expecting any trouble. Besides, if we get pulled over for any reason, we’ll be on the dry-pasta-and-tap-water diet for the next five years if we’re caught with those things.”
“I thought you Italians liked pasta,” Adara said.
“I do, with candlelight and violins in a fine restaurant, not in some graybar hotel.”
“Your call,” Lisanne said. “Just giving you options. One more thing.” She pulled out two wheeled suitcases and set them in the aisle.
“For the two of you. If you’re checking in, you need to look the part.”
“Good thinking.” Dom checked his watch. “We gotta roll.”
—
Midas parked the van on a side street just off the wide and stately Piazza Unità d’Italia, near the small boutique hotel.
Dom and Adara showed their passports to the vivacious thirtysomething Italian woman behind the counter, the spray of freckles on her pretty face a perfect complement to her mop of brown curly hair tied off in a fashionable pink bow. In flawless English she gave them instructions about their room and informed them about the magnificent buffet breakfast available tomorrow morning. Dom’s mouth watered as she described it, saddened to know he wouldn’t have the chance to partake. As they left the lobby, they heard the woman on the phone chatting in crisp German.
Unfortunately, their room was booked two floors above Iliescu’s, but at this time of day, and with the perfect weather, nobody seemed to be around anyway. Inside the small but well-appointed room, Dom broke open the small plastic case and removed Gavin’s device, slipping it into his coat pocket.
Moments later, with Adara standing guard, Dom gently knocked on Iliescu’s door. No response.Good.
He removed the device from his pocket and slipped the socket connector into the magnetic lock’s DC rechargeable power socket, and in less than a second the Arduino microcontroller, loaded with Gavin’s capture software, grabbed the lock’s own stored key code and opened it.
“Voilà,” Dom said, pushing the door open with his shirtsleeve to avoid leaving prints. He was careful to leave the multilingual “Do Not Disturb” door hanger in place as well. He nodded to Adara. “After you.”
Adara brushed past him and into Iliescu’s room as Dom pocketed the lock-picking device and shut the door quietly behind them. He wasn’t sure if the hotel monitored the door locks of its guests to keep track of room occupancy for the maid service. He hoped not.
Judging by the condition of the room, he thought it had been ransacked. Empty liquor bottles, unmade bed, dirty clothes on the floor. But apparently Iliescu was just a slob.
“I’ll check the bathroom and closets,” Adara said, snapping on a pair of gloves.
Dom was pulling on his gloves, too, nodding at the bedposts. “Note the silk ropes affixed to each bedpost, counselor.” He pointed at a collection of male prosthetics on the nightstand. “And for your edification, please observe—”
“Gross. Let’s get on with it. I’m getting the willies.”
“So did she, apparently.” Dom smiled.
“Double gross.”
Fifteen minutes later, they had scoured every corner, drawer, shelf, and container.
Nothing.
No weapons, no electronics, no clues.
“Not even a secret decoder ring,” Dom said.
“Now what?”
Dom glanced around the room and thought of another tasteless joke, but the serious look on Adara’s face told him to cool his jets. They were a committed, fun-loving couple when they weren’t at work, but out in the field she was all business. That was part of their deal. Her work ethic was just one of the reasons she got promoted to field operative from the position Lisanne now occupied so skillfully.
Instead he offered, “Let’s get back to our room and call Gavin. Maybe he’s got an idea.”
