Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 114492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
Josh exhales with frustration, but I don’t look at him.
“What do we know so far?” Jonas asks.
Henn launches into telling Jonas and Sarah what he (and Josh and I) discovered last night: namely, that The Club’s operations are way bigger than any of us expected.
“What about a member list? Any luck on that?” Sarah asks.
My phone buzzes with an incoming text and I take a quick peek. Shoot. It’s from my boss. This isn’t gonna be good. I’ve been putting her off for days.
I open the message:
“Kat!” my boss writes. “Wow, wow, wow! Just got the signed contract and full retainer from this new client of yours! Holy crap! Biggest up-front retainer we’ve ever landed, by far. I know you’re in meetings all day on your new account (!), but call me ASAP. I want to hear all the details. If you need me to fly to Las Vegas to help you with anything just say the word. Fantastic work! Of course, take as long as you need out there. Just check in occasionally to give me an update so we can manage our workload internally. Keep up the great work! We’ll drink champagne when you get back!”
I keep reading and re-reading the email, not comprehending what my eyes are seeing and feeling like I’ve slipped into some sort of gap in the space-time continuum. Did I take acid and not remember? Have I been roofied? What the hell is she talking about?
I look at Josh, but he’s listening intently to whatever Henn’s saying.
“The identity of that über VIP guy seems like something we’d better nail down,” Henn is saying. “His emails are double encrypted, but I cracked an email from Oksana to Max forwarding one of the über VIP guy’s emails—and the guy said shit like ‘my security personnel will post outside the door.’ He’s got security personnel? And they ‘post’ outside doors? Like, who the fuck says that?”
“A rock star?” Sarah suggests. “Guys like that always have bodyguards.”
“No,” Henn says. “Not based on what I’ve seen.”
“Yeah, I know plenty of rock stars with bodyguards—and they don’t talk like that,” Josh says.
“I’ll keep working on it,” Henn says. “Okay, so are you guys ready for your minds to be officially blown?”
“You mean there’s more?” Sarah asks.
“Oh yeah. The next part is what makes this so much fun.” Henn looks at me. “I figured this next part out right after you left last night.”
I look at the group apologetically. “I finally had to get some sleep.”
“That’s what happens when you don’t subsist on a diet of caffeine and nicotine,” Henn says.
“Did you leave to get some sleep, too?” Jonas asks Josh, flashing him a knowing look.
“Yeah, I couldn’t keep up with Henn, either,” Josh says. “I think I left around the time Kat left.” He glances at me, his eyes full of apology. “Maybe just a little bit later.”
It suddenly hits me like a thunderbolt: Josh. Whatever my boss was just babbling about in her email, it was Josh’s doing.
I ask Henn a question absentmindedly, requesting clarification on something, but my mind is shifting into frenetic overdrive. There’s no doubt in my mind: Josh contacted my boss and requested my personal “PR services” out here in Las Vegas.
“Oh my God,” Josh mumbles in response to something Henn just said, his entire body stiffening next to me. He pulls his hand away from the back of my chair and rubs his eyes like he’s blown away by something. Uh oh. I wasn’t paying attention. What did I just miss?
“What?” I ask, my stomach twisting with dread.
“They’re funding the Ukrainian separatists,” Josh answers, his face draining of color.
I don’t have the faintest idea what the hell that means.
“Which means Oksana’s funding Putin through the back door,” Jonas adds, as if that would make things clearer for me.
But it doesn’t. Ukrainian separatists? Putin? Who’s Putin? That sounds familiar, but I forget. Wait, isn’t he that Russian guy? Obviously, I just missed something major when my brain was fixated on my boss’ email.
“You guys, break it down for me,” I say. “Sorry.”
“Okay, back in the day, there was the U.S.S.R., right?” Jonas says. “Then it got broken up into all these pieces—Russia and Ukraine and the Baltic states. Well, now Putin wants to put all the pieces of mother Russia back together again, to resurrect the former empire—and he wants the diamond of his new Soviet Union to be Ukraine.”
“And is Ukraine down with that plan?” I ask, wishing I’d paid more attention in my political science class in college. I honestly don’t even know exactly where Ukraine is, to be honest.
“No, not the official government,” Jonas says. “But there’s a faction within Ukraine—the separatists—and they want to separate from their government and go along with Putin’s reunification plan. So the separatists have waged armed conflicts with their own government, funded by the Russians.”