The Millionaires - Brad Meltzer [75]
“That’s why you gotta go with Lego,” Charlie adds, unable to stop himself. Spreading his arms, he waves hi to the guard with square shoulders. The guard nods awkwardly and looks away. He wants two brown-haired brothers—not a flaky blond kid traveling alone.
Finding nothing, the black guard lowers his detector. “Have a safe trip,” he tells Charlie.
“You too,” Charlie adds. It’s a great act, but there’s not a single ounce of color left in his face. Stumbling forward, he can’t get out of there fast enough.
One by one, the rest of the line takes their turn. As I step through the detector, Charlie turns around and glances back. Just to make sure I’m okay. Passing the two guards, I keep my mouth shut and glide by. And just like that, we’re in. Nowhere to go but south. Nonstop to Miami.
30
Glaring at the back of Gallo’s thick neck, Joey watched him walk across the street, back toward the apartment building. Halfway there, he shot a wave to his buddies in the van, who flashed their lights back. With a punch of the pedal, the van pulled out of its spot and hummed past Joey’s car.
“Nice seeing you!” the driver shouted to Joey.
She forced a grin, pretending it didn’t matter. Typical tech losers, she thought as they disappeared up the block. Within seconds, the black bag guys were gone. And as Gallo stepped inside the apartment building, so was her biggest obstacle.
“What was that about?” Noreen asked in her ear.
“Nothing,” Joey shot back. She kicked the car door open and crossed around to the trunk.
“Maybe you should call the boss—he’s got some buddies in the Service.”
“Noreen, not now,” Joey said, her voice echoing as she leaned down into the trunk. She pulled out a shiny metal suitcase and balanced it on the edge of the trunk. Locks popped and flipped open. Inside, it looked like a high-tech tackle box, with folding stackable trays filled with wires, mikes, and small metal gizmos that resembled miniature cellular phones. At the base of the box was a bulky radio receiver and collapsible headphones.
“What’re you doing?” Noreen asked anxiously. “Where are you?”
Joey didn’t answer. She stuffed what she needed in her pockets and crossed the street.
“You’re not going back in the apartment are you?”
“Nope,” Joey said, picking up speed.
“I heard you fidgeting with the goody box—just tell me where you’re going.”
Joey stopped in front of Gallo and DeSanctis’s car.
“They took all my taps, Noreen—and you know what it’s like getting back in while they’re listening…”
“Wait a minute… you’re not—” The slam of a car door cut Noreen off. “Joey, please tell me you’re not in the Secret Service’s car.”
“Fine, I’m not in their car.” Joey eyed her watch. There wasn’t much time. It may’ve looked like they were helping Maggie back upstairs, but it was probably just Gallo’s way of getting another peek around the apartment. Over her shoulder, Joey took one last glance at the building. Two minutes at the most.
“Joey, they can shoot you for this…”
Right next to the moon roof, Joey reached up for the dome light that lit the inside of the car, snapped off its plastic covering, and quickly undid the two screws that held the tiny bulb in place. “They started it, Noreen.”
“They started it? You’re bugging the United States Secret Service! That car’s federal property.”
“It’s also the only place these bastards are too cocky to look,” Joey pointed out. “Hell, they’re so sure of themselves, they even left the doors unlocked.” She connected a tiny microphone to the red wire that dangled down toward the bulb. It was a trick she learned years ago. The dome light was one of the few places that always had power—even when the car was off. Hooked in there, you could spy on someone for months. All it took was a little risk.
“Please, Joey—they’re gonna come any minute…”
“Almost done…” Snapping the dome back into place, she ducked down in the back of the car and reached under the driver’s seat. There was