Nate stared at the hacker, ready. Hardison was poised and ready for the mastermind's order. Then the grifter's cellphone rang loud and clear for everybody to hear. The mastermind picked it up on the very first ring after checking the I.D. He couldn't take the chance of the man hanging up before he had a chance.
"Hello, Moreau," he said.
Hardison gave him the nod and pointed to his laptop. Not only was he tracking their mark, he was also moderating the mastermind's voice. There was no way Moreau would be able to trace them either. The hacker had even gone through the trouble of routing their call through Highpoint Tower's system. They were more than prepared for the next stage of their plan.
"Who is this?" Moreau's angry voice growled through the phone. His manner's thankfully seemed to have stayed exactly where they belonged.
"I've got your wife," Nate replied, "That's all you need to know right now."
"Whatever you want you won't get," Moreau replied sharply, "I know my wife. She's a handful. You'll be begging me to take her back in the end and when I do I will end you."
"No, that's what I'm going to do to you," Nate rolled his eyes. Parker giggled at that.
"I want twenty-three million dollars delivered to my account exactly one week from today," he explained, "That is next Friday at twelve thirty p.m. exactly. I'll even give you the benefit of within the thirty-two second mark it is currently at. Nod your head if you understand."
Eliot smirked at the image of Moreau on the six plasma screens. The man looked startled that they had the ability to control the video surveillance cameras around Los Angeles. He was visibly enraged by the fact that his position was known. He grimaced at the camera and carefully nodded his head.
"Good boy," Nate encouraged enjoying himself a little too much, "Now the money isn't all I want. I also want you to fire exactly one third of your corporation. Say yes if you understand that demand."
"Yes," Moreau's voice said sounding highly annoyed by the command.
"I suggest you fire the child prostitution ring," the mastermind continued, "Your wife doesn't seem to enjoy the idea of you getting your kicks from anybody not her."
"Isn't she excellent in bed?" Moreau hissed scornfully.
"Wouldn't know," Nate replied in a growl, "I'm not that kind of man. Talk again and you will have to give up another fifty percent of your business. And I'll take something else away from you besides your wife. Turn around in a clockwise circle if you understand."
The man did as instructed with a grumble and another roll of his eyes.
"Good," Nate smiled, "Now here's the kicker. You're going to deliver ten million dollars in non-sequential cash bills to the drop site address I give you. I will send this address when I receive the twenty-three million in the account I send you when we hang up. If you do not deliver the money and fire one third of your business you will never see your wife again. I will take you down and you will lose all of your power. You may ask one question to show you understand."
"You're going to give me my wife when I drop off the ten million, yes?" He asked.
"Naturally," Nate nodded, "but only after you do everything else understand. If you go back on your word you will suffer tenfold. I'm warning you, Moreau. Do not double cross me. You will not like what I do in response. Understand?"
"I understand," Moreau replied, "I want proof of life."
"And you will have it," Nate agreed, "but only when I give it to you. Be expecting a check-up of your movements within the next forty-eight hours."
The mastermind hung up the phone and quickly shot off a text to the bank account Hardison gave him. He then watched as Moreau struggled to compose himself. The man immediately started dialing numbers. He ignored the text message and looked very unpleasant as he spoke.
"That went well," Parker commented simply.
"Why did you only ask for thirty-three million dollars?" Hardison asked softly, "There are four of us."
"I only need three million," Nate shrugged, "The non-sequential dollars in cash are for Parker. You two will split the wire transfer."
"Why don't you want any money?" Parker asked, "I mean you're doing the planning. Don't you want a piece of the pie?"
"We're not going to give Moreau his wife," Nate explained, "We're going to end him. We just need him to think it's just a simple ransom."
"So the money's a distraction?" Hardison questioned in surprise, "Poetic."
"And you will be getting a lot more money," Nate nodded, "We just have to work at Moreau a little at a time."
"That's going to take months, man," Hardison complained.
"Then you better start working," the mastermind suggested, "Eliot and Parker, I'm going to need the two of you to start making plans for infiltration in several of the world's top security systems. I want several contingency plans for going up against a Steranko. Hardison, locate every single one of Moreau's grunt workers."
"And what are you going to do?" Eliot demanded briskly.
"I'm going to go talk to our guest," he replied taking a bottle of scotch and two glasses with him.
The three thieves watched their mastermind close the door behind him. They all looked at each other with different degrees of interest and surprise on their faces. They couldn't understand why he was so interested in the Black Queen of Death. They also didn't care. If he wanted to get himself killed he was free to do it. They didn't care.
Sophie… no Charlotte Moreau was once again sitting seductively on the bed. This time Nate was prepared for the game she would be playing. He politely showed her the bottle and two glasses. Then he poured them each a drink.
"You thirsty?" He asked, "It's pretty high quality scotch. Only the best for you really."
"I'm not a big fan," Charlotte replied, "but I can see you are."
"I'm an alcoholic," Nate smiled, "Good call."
"Do you normally inform people of your weaknesses so easily?" She asked taking the proffered glass as she spoke.
The mastermind ignored the gibe and instead observed the grifter. She did nothing more than sniff at the drink before her eyes were on him. She was expecting some sort of drug in her drink. Clearly she wasn't new to this lovely game. Somehow that only made the mastermind feel more anger towards Damien Moreau. She should have never known what it was like to suffer.
"I figured it was only fair," he whispered into her ear.
The shiver that ran up her spine only worried him more. It was only a soft tremor that could be felt in close proximity. The temperature around her changed to freezing and her eyes sparked with anger. She was reeling for a strike. So the mastermind took his life into his hands and calmly placed a steady hand on her shoulder.
"Relax," he cooed, "I'm not going to hurt your son."
She didn't say a word. She didn't even react to the way he spoke about her son. Instead she took a giant gulp of the drink and even poured herself another. She refilled his glass while she was at it. Of course he couldn't resist one small jab.
"That's something your husband would do."
The look he received was interesting to say the least. His glass was taken into her mouth as punishment. Then she poured herself another glass and started showing just how much alcohol she could imbibe. He removed the temptation before she could get at it.
"No," he said, "You are not allowed to get drunk. That's my job, remember?"
That made her angry.
"What do you want?" She hissed.
Her left hand was on his lapel and her breath buzzed with alcohol. It was such a familiar scent that the mastermind couldn't help but be lured by her bait. Her breath was hot on his skin before he managed to snap himself out. He shook his head like he was in a daze. The evil smile on her face told him she knew exactly what she was doing.
"Was he sad?" She asked, "On the phone. Did he sound completely distraught over my kidnapping?"
Nate turned away from her oncoming rant. Instead he picked up the scotch and dumped it into the sink. Then he burst into laughter at the irony. He was dumping alcohol to stop her from being drunk. If his version of her was there she would appreciate it. She'd laugh and tease him relentlessly. Then they would kiss and the night would never end. Now she was glaring at him for the spilt alcohol. And she hated him for it.
"Or did he sound relieved?" She finished softly, "After all with my death he is free to reign."
"You're the mother of his child," Nate replied.
"All the more reason for my death," she smiled, "He doesn't want me to turn that young mind against him. I'm the only one who can."
"Why would you turn your son against his father?" the mastermind demanded softly.
She looked him straight in the eyes with that cold smile still firmly plastered on her face.
"Why would you voluntarily kidnap a monster?" she asked.
The smile on her face grew into a chilling laugh. She literally enjoyed the misery written so clearly on his face. She loved the horror and hatred he experienced because of her husband. The evil she had performed thrilled her beyond no compare. Sophie Devereaux really was gone forever.
"He's going to kill you if I don't," Nate gasped, "He's going to blame me no matter what happens next."
"Your hands will be just as red as mine," Charlotte nodded at his realization, "Why not dip them fully into the blood?"
Her lips were on him in an instant. The alcohol buzzed in his mind and all he could feel was his grifter's soft skin again. But the image flashing in his mind was nothing compared to what he felt. He felt used and weak. All of the anger he felt at Moreau was bubbling faster and faster to the surface. Something was wrong.
He pushed her away and stared into her black, soulless eyes. She smirked at the lust she could so obviously read within him. He slammed her roughly against the wall. Her whimper of pain was quickly masked with another giggle of evil. He hated that sound so he devoured it with his lips. He hissed at the taste. Her kiss was wrong.
"No," he shook his head.
She watched him with anger as he backed away. The hatred on her face was evident now. Her plan was foiled and she was not happy about it.
"No?" She questioned, "What do you mean no?"
"I didn't before," he replied, "I won't now. Not even for you."
He opened the door and silently mourned the woman he used to know. He felt the anger build in his stomach until all that was left was longing.
"It's a shame you will always be waiting," he sighed. Then he closed the door behind him.
The sound of shattering glass showed exactly what she thought of that. Her plan had failed and he was one step closer to his plan coming to fruition. Moreau was going to pay… for everything.
"Moreau's not going to meet our demands," he called off, "Time to teach him that we mean business."
"What are we going to do?" Eliot asked bitterly, "Are you going to assault his wife?"
"No," Nate smiled, "I'm going to do one better. We're going to take out one of his men."
"Who?" Hardison asked typing away as he spoke.
"The President of San Lorenzo," the mastermind replied.