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Flags?”
    “Did I stutter?”
    Antonio’s chuckle began in his chest and erupted into a full belly laugh. Jace could only gaze at the man and wonder if he’d lost his mind. He didn’t see anything amusing about any of it.
    “Care to share the fun?” he muttered.
    “What better place to hide a kid?” Antonio said breathlessly. “There are hundreds of people in that park at any given moment. Besides, nobody would think to look for them in a tourist trap like that anyway.”
    He reconsidered his earlier opinion that Dayne was insane. Maybe Herrera had a point. The best place to hide was in a crowd of people who looked just like you. There were bound to be hundreds of kids Ryan’s age in that park. Dayne and Ryan could easily get lost there.
    “I’m going to need transportation.” Jace sent Antonio a pointed look.
    “What do I look like, the Walmart underground?”
    “You owe me.”
    “I set up the contract, Jace. I didn’t tell you to listen at keyholes.”
    “You knew what was going on there.”
    “What makes you say that?”
    “Herrera, don’t screw with me. You knew the feds were meeting with Dolohov.”
    “It was just a rumor.”
    He growled in frustration. “You set me up with a contract so I could find out?”
    Antonio pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “Look, we aren’t going to get anywhere with this conversation, all right?”
    “Then get me some damned transportation.”
    Jace winced as his voice reverberated around the office. Frustrated and confused, he felt as if he was lacking half of the information he needed to smooth out this latest wrinkle in his life.
    “What kind of transportation do you want?”
    “Something fast and maneuverable.”
    “Can you handle a motorcycle?”
    Was the guy kidding? When you had the potential of being on the run every day of your life, you learned to drive everything.
    “I’ll take that look to mean yes,” Antonio said wryly.
    Antonio strode abruptly out of his office into the main garage. Jace followed him past the blank stares of his posse to a back corner of the garage. A tarp crinkled as it was tossed aside to reveal five motorcycles. While Antonio looked on, Jace checked out the selection.
    “This one’s nice,” Antonio pointed to a Harley VRod.
    “Too flashy. I don’t want that kind of attention.”
    “Honda Goldwing?”
    “Did you not hear me say maneuverable?”
    Hidden behind the chunky Goldwing was a smaller bike with clean lines, no gaudy chrome, and power. The corner of his mouth twitched. This was a bike he could ease in and out of traffic on. And he would have enough speed to lose someone if he was tailed.
    Jace settled himself astride the machine and grinned. “This’ll do.”
    “Ducati Monster, nice choice.”
    “You can add it onto your next commission.”
    “Gee thanks, Jace,” Antonio said caustically. “And I suppose you’re going to need a weapon too?”
    “That would probably help.”
    “Didn’t make it through customs with yours, huh?”
    Jace didn’t bother to answer. He wheeled the Ducati into the open and checked it over.
    Antonio looked offended. “What? You think I don’t keep my bikes maintained?”
    “This is a chop shop.”
    “That one’s all original.”
    “If you’re charging me for it, it’d better be.”
    Antonio handed Jace a Glock .357sig and three extra clips.
    “You and your Glocks,” Jace grumbled as he stashed the clips.
    “It happens to be my weapon of choice. Beggars can’t be choosers, McKay.”
    “I’ll remember that next time I have you on the business end of my scope.”
    Antonio held out a yellow and black helmet that closely resembled the paint on the Ducati’s gas tank.
    He shook his head. “I have a feeling I’m going to need my peripheral vision.”
    “I know you’ve got every reason to be angry, McKay, but don’t direct it at Dayne,” Antonio told him quietly.
    “Defending her honor are we?”
    “She didn’t want to be in the middle of this any