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on Monnet. As usual, he hadn't been able to rattle him with threats and noise. But he had something special for Dr. Monnet, something he'd saved till now.
"I especially wish the good doctor could join the parties. I will be serving a nice little wine I picked up recently. A Bordeaux. You have heard of Chateau Petrus, yes?"
He saw Monnet stiffen. His tone was guarded. "Yes."
"But of course you have. It is from your homeland. I am silly. Yes, I bought six bottles of Chateau Petrus 1947 Cru Exceptionnel last night, and I will be drinking them all this weekend. It is such a shame you cannot be there to have some. I understand it is quite good."
Milos watched with glee as the color faded from Monnet's cheeks, leaving him wide-eyed, livid, and—for once—speechless.
"Have a nice day," Milos said, then turned, unlocked the door, and pushed out into the hall.
6
Luc fought to regain his composure as the door shut behind Dragovic. If he had a gun right now, he would walk out into the hall and shoot the man. He'd never fired a gun before but somehow, with Dragovic as the target, he was sure he could manage it.
At least he would if he could make his legs work. Dragovic's words had left him weak in the knees. Had that… that ape been tailing him? That could be the only explanation. One of Dragovic's men must have followed him to Sotheby's and called his boss when Luc started bidding. Dragovic had sat home and outbid him.
Why? Luc wondered. Certainly not because his Slavic palate could appreciate a fine Pomerol. The only reason could be… simply to frustrate me.
Again, why? Because I don't tremble whenever he looks my way?
If the wine episode was meant to drive home that Milos Dragovic was not a man to be taken lightly, he'd wasted his money. Luc had been forced to accept that.
Brad Edwards moaned as he stepped to the door and relocked it. "How did we ever get involved with this maniac?"
"You know how," Kent Garrison said. He mopped his florid face on his shirtsleeve. "And you damn well know why."
Brad nodded slowly, sorrowfully. "Yes, I do." He dropped his tidy frame back into a chair. "But what's worse, I don't see how we'll ever be free of him."
"I do," Luc said, finally finding his voice.
His partners sprang upright, chorusing, "You do? How?"
"By not supplying him with any more Loki."
"Not funny, Luc!" Brad said, holding up a manicured hand as if to block the words in midair. "Don't even joke about that!"
"I'm not," he said, feeling the dread slip over him. "We may not have a choice."
The sound of Kent's nervous swallow filled the tiny room. "You mean what you said about the source drying up? You don't think that's happened, do you?"
"No. We're safe this time. I would have been informed to the contrary." At least Luc hoped Oz would have called. "But I have my doubts, serious doubts, about next time."
"Oh, God!" Brad said, visibly trembling. "You mean this could be it? In four weeks we come up empty? Dragovic will kill us!"
"Yes," Luc said softly. "He probably will. Or at least try."
But he'll have to find me first, Luc thought.
He could get lost in Provence where no one, especially a Serb swine, would find him. But Kent and Brad…
Kent made a noise that sounded like a sob. "We have to tell him, prepare him, convince him that it's not our fault!"
"Do you really think you can do that?" Luc said. "The man is an animal. But despite all his threats we've had nothing to fear from him because we are the world's only source of Loki. But once we stop supplying him he'll think we're either holding out for a higher price or we've found another buyer—that's the way they do things in his world. And if he can't have it, he'll finish us. Our only hope is to stabilize the Loki molecule. If we—"
"But you can't!" Brad cried, his voice rising toward a wall. "You've been trying to stabilize the molecule since you discovered it and you've failed every time. We spent a fortune on that lab of yours. For what? Nothing! And
"I especially wish the good doctor could join the parties. I will be serving a nice little wine I picked up recently. A Bordeaux. You have heard of Chateau Petrus, yes?"
He saw Monnet stiffen. His tone was guarded. "Yes."
"But of course you have. It is from your homeland. I am silly. Yes, I bought six bottles of Chateau Petrus 1947 Cru Exceptionnel last night, and I will be drinking them all this weekend. It is such a shame you cannot be there to have some. I understand it is quite good."
Milos watched with glee as the color faded from Monnet's cheeks, leaving him wide-eyed, livid, and—for once—speechless.
"Have a nice day," Milos said, then turned, unlocked the door, and pushed out into the hall.
6
Luc fought to regain his composure as the door shut behind Dragovic. If he had a gun right now, he would walk out into the hall and shoot the man. He'd never fired a gun before but somehow, with Dragovic as the target, he was sure he could manage it.
At least he would if he could make his legs work. Dragovic's words had left him weak in the knees. Had that… that ape been tailing him? That could be the only explanation. One of Dragovic's men must have followed him to Sotheby's and called his boss when Luc started bidding. Dragovic had sat home and outbid him.
Why? Luc wondered. Certainly not because his Slavic palate could appreciate a fine Pomerol. The only reason could be… simply to frustrate me.
Again, why? Because I don't tremble whenever he looks my way?
If the wine episode was meant to drive home that Milos Dragovic was not a man to be taken lightly, he'd wasted his money. Luc had been forced to accept that.
Brad Edwards moaned as he stepped to the door and relocked it. "How did we ever get involved with this maniac?"
"You know how," Kent Garrison said. He mopped his florid face on his shirtsleeve. "And you damn well know why."
Brad nodded slowly, sorrowfully. "Yes, I do." He dropped his tidy frame back into a chair. "But what's worse, I don't see how we'll ever be free of him."
"I do," Luc said, finally finding his voice.
His partners sprang upright, chorusing, "You do? How?"
"By not supplying him with any more Loki."
"Not funny, Luc!" Brad said, holding up a manicured hand as if to block the words in midair. "Don't even joke about that!"
"I'm not," he said, feeling the dread slip over him. "We may not have a choice."
The sound of Kent's nervous swallow filled the tiny room. "You mean what you said about the source drying up? You don't think that's happened, do you?"
"No. We're safe this time. I would have been informed to the contrary." At least Luc hoped Oz would have called. "But I have my doubts, serious doubts, about next time."
"Oh, God!" Brad said, visibly trembling. "You mean this could be it? In four weeks we come up empty? Dragovic will kill us!"
"Yes," Luc said softly. "He probably will. Or at least try."
But he'll have to find me first, Luc thought.
He could get lost in Provence where no one, especially a Serb swine, would find him. But Kent and Brad…
Kent made a noise that sounded like a sob. "We have to tell him, prepare him, convince him that it's not our fault!"
"Do you really think you can do that?" Luc said. "The man is an animal. But despite all his threats we've had nothing to fear from him because we are the world's only source of Loki. But once we stop supplying him he'll think we're either holding out for a higher price or we've found another buyer—that's the way they do things in his world. And if he can't have it, he'll finish us. Our only hope is to stabilize the Loki molecule. If we—"
"But you can't!" Brad cried, his voice rising toward a wall. "You've been trying to stabilize the molecule since you discovered it and you've failed every time. We spent a fortune on that lab of yours. For what? Nothing! And
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