The Detachment - Barry Eisler [32]
Besides, they’d agreed Rain would do the actual hit. He had the most esoteric experience—the rest of them were strictly firearms guys. In fact, of all the men Treven had killed, more than he could remember in combat, assassinations, and self-defense, he couldn’t think of a time he’d used anything other than a gun. Not that it would be so terribly complicated to spray someone in the face with cyanide, but on the other hand aerosolized cyanide was dangerous shit, and in an op anything could go wrong. The surest, and safest, way to deliver the dose would be directly into the target’s open mouth, and if there was anyone who could get close enough to make that happen, he guessed it was Rain.
He walked back to the free weights area. Shorrock, a wiry guy of about fifty wearing Under Armour shorts and a tee shirt, was doing pushups, his movements crisp and efficient. He had an iPod Shuffle strapped to his arm. Treven noticed he’d set down an aluminum water bottle at the base of the dumbbell rack, probably filled with some sports drink. The guy looked at home in the gym. Treven started to turn away, then noticed something on the carpet next to the water bottle. Son of a bitch, it was a keycard, in the hotel’s signature flaming red.
His mind raced through the implications. They’d expected Shorrock to take a locker in the spa. Obviously he hadn’t—maybe because he didn’t have time, maybe because Eucalyptus steam baths weren’t his thing. He’d come straight to the fitness center, after which, presumably, he’d be heading straight back to his room.
Was there a way to get the room number? There was a sign-in sheet at the desk outside. To use the gym, Treven had needed to write down his name and room number. The people at the desk then checked the computer to confirm he was a registered guest. Presumably, Shorrock had filled out the form, too. Maybe the bodyguards had told him not to, but Treven doubted it. Their security posture seemed pretty relaxed. It was a Las Vegas casino, after all—what could possibly happen?
He stood behind the massive pillar in the center of the room so the bodyguard outside couldn’t see him if he looked in, and glanced around to confirm no one was within earshot. The place was huge and the closest people were on the treadmills and exercise bikes, a good fifteen feet away. The whirring of the machines was audible from where he stood.
He pulled his cell phone from his shorts pocket and called Rain. “He’s here,” he said quietly.
There was a brief pause. Rain said, “Okay. I know you can’t plausibly stick around much longer. We’ll rotate my partner in and I’ll head to the spa to wait.”
“No, the spa’s no good. I’m pretty sure he’s not using it. He set his keycard down on the floor right here, so I’m guessing he never got a locker.”
“His keycard?”
Treven moved from one side of the pillar to the other to ensure no one had approached. “Yeah, we’re thinking the same thing. I’ll check the sign-in sheet at the desk and see if I can learn his room number. You send your partner down to the spa—have him tell the desk he’s just checking it out to see if he wants to spend the forty bucks. There’s a bodyguard outside but I don’t think he’ll care about your partner if he’s heading into the spa instead of the gym. I’ll swap our friend’s card for mine—”
“Don’t forget, the Wynn stamps guest names on the cards. They’re not just keys, they’re like credit cards for the resort.”
“He’d have to look awfully closely to notice that—he’s just going to see his red plastic keycard where he left it, not the little gold lettering on the bottom.”
“You’re right. Keep going.”
“I’ll head to the spa like I need to hit the head, and hand off the key to your partner. He lets you into our friend’s room, then heads back to the spa on some pretext, gives me back the key, and I swap it back. You take care of business in the room, perfect privacy, and we’re done.”
“The room’s too risky. Security detail might routinely check it just before our friend goes in.”
“Fuck, that’s true.”
“Plus these keys are smart cards. They can be programmed