Read RainStorm for Free Online Page B

an hour--a twinkling, by the standards
    of the room's diehards. He was still probing, I saw. He had a cop's
    instinct for irregularities. I nodded and smiled. "I've learned to quit
    while I'm ahead," I told him, holding up my chips.
    He smiled back, his gaze cool as always. "Yes, that's usually
    wise," he said.
    On my way out of the casino I stopped to use one of the restrooms.
    A full bladder would be a nuisance later this evening, and I
    also wanted to thoroughly wash my hands. Staph is nasty stuff, and
    I had no wish to consume some of it inadvertently.
    I took a cab to the Oriental and went straight to my room.
    Keiko was out, presumably still gambling with the money I'd given
    her. I grabbed what I needed from the safe, placed it in a small
    backpack I'd brought along for just this occasion, and went straight
    to Belghazi's suite. He would start feeling sick shortly and could be
    expected to return soon after that, and I needed to let myself in
    ahead of him. If he got in first, he might engage the dead bolt-- low tech, but inaccessible from the exterior--and I would lose this
    opportunity.
    I used the SoldierVision before going in. The blonde had said
    she was going to play craps, but people change their minds. The
    room was empty. I let myself in with my homemade master key. It
    would have been nice if I could have just stood in the closet or lain
    down under the bed, but those would be among the first places the
    bodyguards would check if they performed even a cursory sweep.
    Instead, I moved quickly to the larger of the suite's two bathrooms.
    I saw two sets of toiletries arranged across the expansive marble countertop
    around the sink--Belghazi's, presumably, and the blonde's.
    There was a vertical slab of marble joined to the front edge of
    the countertop, extending about a quarter of the distance to the
    floor. I took a SureFire Ele mini-light from the backpack--three
    inches, two ounces, fifteen bright white lumens--squatted, and
    looked under the slab. Hot and cold water pipes ran down from the
    sink handles above and disappeared into the wall. I saw the curved
    bottom of the ceramic sink, and an attached drainage pipe snaking
    down, then up, then, with the other pipes, into the wall behind.
    I smiled. If Belghazi had taken a more modest room, I wouldn't
    have been able to get away with this, and would have had to come
    up with something less optimal. As it was, the countertop was sufficiently
    grand to leave a sizeable gap between the back of the vertical
    marble facade and the underside of the sink basin behind it. It
    would be a bit of a squeeze, but there was just enough room in
    there for a man of my size.
    I reached into the backpack and took out a specially designed
    nylon sling, which, unfurled, looked something like an uncomfortably
    thin black hammock with four aluminum cams on its ends. I
    squatted down again, held the SureFire in my mouth, and looked
    for places to secure the cams. I could have replaced the cams with
    suction cups or with several other means of attachment, but there
    was no need: the marble countertop must have weighed at least
    a couple hundred pounds, and it was buttressed by a series of
    wooden supports, each of which provided a convenient gap for a
    cam. I attached the cams, tightened the horizontal straps of the
    sling, then hauled myself and the backpack up into it. I lay on my
    side, curled around the curve of the sink, the backpack tucked under
    my upper arm. It was uncomfortable, but not intolerable. I'd
    certainly put up with worse, and didn't expect to have to wait long
    in any event.
    I knew that the bodyguards, if they were any good, were likely
    to inspect the suite before Belghazi entered. But I also knew that, in
    his current condition, Belghazi would want to be alone and would
    therefore probably order them out--if he allowed them in at all-- before they had done a thorough sweep. Still, ever the good Boy
    Scout, I was equipped with a CIA-designed, .22-caliber single