“You don’t think Ivanov is arrogant?” I asked.
“Oh fuck, you are…them,” Reid said with an exhale. “You fuckers had me worried. I thought maybe the stress was getting to you.”
“Brainstorming, man,” I said, retaking my seat.
“How did you die?” Reid asked me.
“Shot. I’m Gorky.”
“It was nice knowing you,” Reid said with a grin, pulling up something on his phone. “Here’s the message from Ivanov. He has agreed to meet with you in New Orleans during the tournament.”
My head shook. “No way is Madeline going to that tournament.”
“She doesn’t have to,” Sparrow said. “But we will.”
“No,” I said. “I don’t like it.” I turned back to Sparrow. “Back to our role play. Why would you agree to meet?”
“Either I’m planning a bold move to take me out or I’m ready to concede that the declaration of war is withdrawn and ask for a peace treaty.”
Sparrow looked from one of us to the other. “That gives us at least three days. The fate of Chicago and Detroit will be determined in New Orleans.” He looked to me. “I will talk to him. Let him know what’s happening. We’ve never had a problem. I don’t want to start one now.”
By him, Sparrow was referring to the king of New Orleans, one of his counterparts.
“I’ll assure him,” Sparrow went on, “that there will be no repercussions for his city. We aren’t looking for land or manpower from him. We only need space to end this.”
I remembered something Madeline said. “I don’t particularly want her there, but Madeline offered to translate with Bykov. I believe that would work with Ivanov too.”
“I got this,” Mason said. “Russian and the different derivations aren’t that tough.”
A grin came to my lips. “I forgot we have the master of languages amongst us.”
“Can you arrange a meeting with Bykov before the tournament?” Sparrow asked. “It would be nice to walk into New Orleans knowing Bykov is ready to succeed Ivanov. If not, there will be fallout.”
“Let us meet with him,” I said, looking at Mason and speaking to Sparrow. “You were right. Ivanov will have eyes and ears everywhere. He already distrusts most everyone around him. One rogue sighting of you near Detroit or Bykov near Chicago will set him off. Bykov doesn’t need to meet with you yet.” I motioned between the other three of us. “We’re his equal.” It was similar to how Sparrow was on a par with the leader of New Orleans. “We can lay out the offer and give him some time to work up the support in the ranks if he agrees. If he doesn’t and turns on us, telling Ivanov our plan, Detroit is on its own for a while. The blood will be on their hands.”
Sparrow nodded. “Let’s do it.”
Madeline
“You’re saying that Andros didn’t sign me up for the tournament—Marion did?” I asked not only Patrick but also the other three men sitting around the penthouse’s kitchen table. Being it was Monday afternoon, we were the only ones present.
Araneae was in the home office working via video conferencing with her assistant Jana and her partner in Denver, Louisa. Ruby was in our apartment. Since we were on what was referred to as lockdown, I could only assume that Lorna and Laurel were also somewhere within the confines of our domain.
“Yes,” Reid said. “Registering you over a month ago with a million-dollar buy-in.”
My fingers itched for the feel of cards. It was the one thing that made me someone beyond what Andros considered me to be. Yes, he’d facilitated my playing, and up until now, I never questioned why. That was a thought for another day. Now I needed to concentrate on the tournament at hand. “Over a month ago?” My head shook. “More evidence that he and Andros had my sale planned long before Chicago.”
The four men remained silent.
“Will it help at all if I play the tournament?” I asked.
“No,” Patrick said. “You’re not facing Ivanov or Elliott.”
I laid my hands upon the granite table, sensing all four sets of eyes coming my way. “Gentlemen, gambling is my claim to fame. I’m not interested in fame, but I am capable of making a good show. I suddenly wonder if that wasn’t what I was all along, a show, a diversion allowing Andros access to cities for other reasons while the attention was on me. And as for Marion, what is he going to do? He’s already insinuated that I’m mentally unstable.”
“That was a countermeasure to discredit you if you chose to tell the world the truth,” Sterling said, “about the transaction between him and Ivanov.”
“I won’t,” I replied. “Who would believe me?”
“We do,” Patrick said, reaching for my hand.
I grinned his way. “And I appreciate that. You know that horrible world exists. Most people think it only happens in fiction. They don’t want to know it’s real. The cell house where I was held? I couldn’t tell you where it was located even though I was there for four months. My guess is that the neighbors didn’t know what was right there. They each made plausible explanations in their minds for the coming and going of cars at all hours. That’s what people do. They see what they want to believe. I won’t stand up at the tournament and declare that Marion Elliott, esteemed oilman, bought me. However, maybe if I’m there, I can distract him or Andros for your benefit. Please…” I looked from man to man. “I want to help.”
Patrick exhaled. “Elliott is our wild card in this whole thing. Why is he loyal to Ivanov?”
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “I get the feeling that things go way back. Marion admitted being at my auction in McFadden’s home. Before I knew that, he mentioned something about being friends with a politician—”
“We can assume McFadden,” Sterling interjected.
I tried to think back. “He also mentioned Antonio Hillman’s mother. I think her name is Ruth.”
Everyone nodded.
“Marion said they were very nice and helpful after the death of his wife and daughter.”
Sterling shook his head. “Ruth is Wendell’s only wife. He never had a daughter, only Antonio.”
“No,” I corrected. “Marion’s wife and daughter. It happened over thirty years ago. He lost both of them in a small plane crash.”
All four men looked from one to the other.
“I don’t recall that information,” Reid said. “I thought I knew what there was to know about the guy.”
I shrugged. “When I looked him up before the Chicago tournament, I found one reference to him marrying young, then nothing else. He told me that it was too personal and painful, saying he paid the right people to keep the story buried. I told him the world is different today. One tweet can go viral lightning fast. Damage control doesn’t work as well as paying off the major news outlets thirty years ago did.”
Patrick’s brow furrowed. “So he lost his wife and daughter more than ten years before he was at the auction?”
I nodded.