Fired Up

“The money chain has got to be a major weak point for Nightshade, one of the places it’s vulnerable.”
    She looked intrigued. “Have you talked to Fallon about that? Maybe he could use some help. From the sound of things he’s very shorthanded.”
    “Maybe I’ll give him a call after dinner.”
    She smiled a little. “You do that.”
    An hour later they left the casino and went out into the neon-lit fantasy world of the Strip. The night was chilly, but the sidewalks that linked the big resorts were crowded with people making their way from one glittering hotel to the next.
    Along the way Las Vegas Boulevard was crammed with special effects: Full-scale pirate ships floated on man-made seas and launched cannon attacks. Flames roared from a large volcano. Gondolas drifted on a canal that looked as if it had been plucked from the heart of Venice. Fountains danced to music across a vast lake. Huge marquees emblazoned with the names of the stars and shows appearing in the big theaters glowed as bright as suns in the night.
    Jack stopped on the steps of a Roman forum and made the call to Fallon.
    “You got something new for me?” Fallon asked impatiently. “I’m a little busy here.”
    “I’ve been thinking about the money angle.”
    There was an unnatural pause on the other end.
    “What about it?” Fallon asked. But now he sounded curious.
    “Just wondered how far you’ve been able to pursue it with this Nightshade operation.”
    “Not far.” Fallon let out a deep sigh. “On paper, at least, the labs we took down all appear to be independently owned and operated. No links to anything.”
    “That’s impossible. There has to be a way to feed money up the chain of command to the guys at the top. There must be a way to move the drug as well.”
    “I agree,” Fallon said. “But my people haven’t been able to find any connections. When it comes to organization, these guys are good, Jack. Don’t forget, it was set up by a man who spent years working undercover for a government black-ops group.”
    “If it’s so well run, why are they using cheap, low- end muscle to do the dirty work?”
    “You’re talking about the two bikers who tried to grab the lamp?”
    “They were hunters, but they weren’t exactly top- of-the-line talents.”
    “Nightshade uses a lot of cheap muscle,” Fallon said. “Probably because it’s widely available and also expendable. You can always find more labor where that came from, if you see what I mean.”
    “Where?”
    “What do you mean, where?”
    “Where do you go to get an endless supply of expendable street muscle?” Jack asked patiently.
    “Hell, try L.A. or San Francisco or Las Vegas. Guys like them are everywhere.”
    “But somehow you have to recruit them, get them started on the drug and then maintain control of them. Can’t see a bunch of corporate suits sending people from whatever passes for Nightshade’s human resources department into dark alleys to interview possible job candidates.”
    Fallon was silent for an uncharacteristically long moment.
    “Got any ideas?” he said eventually.
    “I’m thinking about it.”
    “Do that. Call me as soon as you come up with something solid. I could use a break here.”
    The phone went dead in Jack’s ear. He looked at Chloe.
    “I think Fallon just hired me to work for J&J,” he said.
    “Good move on his part.” She looked back over her shoulder toward the hotel. “Well, I suppose I should go back to the room, pack and make a reservation on a morning flight to Seattle. When are you leaving?”
    “Hadn’t thought about it.” It stunned him to realize that was the truth. Suddenly, returning to Seattle and his cold concrete-and-steel condo was the last thing he wanted to do.
    It wasn’t until he reached for her hand that it occurred to him that they had never done anything as simple as walking hand in hand together.
    His fingers tightened around hers.
    “It’s been a fast few days,” he said, searching for a way into the conversation. “We haven’t had a lot of time to talk about other things besides the lamp.”
    “Such as?”
    “Such as what happens now,” he said.
    “Now?”
    He looked at her. “You’re not making this any easier. I’m trying to talk about us.”
    “If you find it hard to talk about us maybe that’s a sign that you should try another subject,” she said gently.
    “I’ll admit I’m not good at discussions like this, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to