Dark Market

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

Savage checked his watch as he approached the executive elevator on the forty-sixth floor.

11.59am.

Then a chunky hand on his chest stopped him getting any closer. The owner of the hand had no neck, and an ill-fitting suit.

'Where are you going, sir?'

'Executive floor.'

'Name?' he said. Savage just knew no-neck would make a great after dinner speaker.

'Paul Roberts,' he said.

The man scowled at the list on his podium. If he leant his great weight on it he would have snapped it in two. 'You're not here,' he said, stubby finger still on the list.

'I am expected,' Savage showed the man a fake card in Robert's name and then placed Sutherland's card on top.

The man's tight lips and frown told Savage how little he thought of him. No-neck dialled a number and gave Robert's details. Listened to the voice at the other end, then jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the open elevator.

Gentle speedy seconds later, Savage stepped out onto the executive floor.

He wore a shirt, cuffs folded back and carried one of those fat leather cases techies like, filled with goodies from his shopping trip.

Paris Hilton on the front desk looked up at him with big girly eyes. She was pretty in a fashion-of-the-day type of way, but still a girl, not a woman. Fashion, she hadn't figured out yet, was not style.

He handed her his card. 'I believe you're expecting me?'

She hovered, one finger in the air. Trying to remember where she'd put something. She opened up the computer instead, and clicked a couple of buttons.

'There's nothing in the diary.'

'Really? My boss called this morning. I've got to tweak your nodes.'

She narrowed her eyes at the fake ID badge around his neck. He kept a straight face.

'Who was that?' she said flatly.

'Blonqvuist.'

'I haven't spoken to him.'

'Her.'

'I haven't spoken to any Blonqvuist this morning. I would have remembered.'

'Really?' Savage placed the CEO's card on the flat surface between them. 'He was adamant it was fixed. They won't have secure comms until I'm done.'

She wasn't impressed by Sutherland’s card. Okay. Not as brainless as she looked.

He wanted her to check messages, but wanted her to think of it.

'She was pretty pissed about it too,' he said, sliding over Natasja's card.

Paris's eyes widened. A little panic.

He poured it on. 'She said they were at some function and that it had to be secured by the time they got back.'

'Maybe there’s something in messages,' Paris said.

'No stress. If there isn't I'll take the morning off and bill it anyway.'

He didn't know if her fear of the PA rather than the CEO was relevant. She could simply be doe-eyed for the big boy. Sex skewed everything.

The reception area was exactly as Echo described it. And no internet points. He took out his phone and pressed connect on the wifi control.

The connection icon told him it was a WEP protected log-in for the area. Sercure-ish. Enough for Joe Public.