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the limo driver, I’m sure.”
    “I guess. You didn’t pick him up?”
    Martini grunted. “No, though I can recognize his emotional feel now. But there’s a lot of interference here, even more than at the airport.” Made sense. Most emotions ran higher in Sin City, especially the closer you were to a casino, and we were very close. I decided not to worry about Oliver right now, especially since Martini still sounded annoyed.
    “Think the rest of the team is here already?” I asked as we waited for the elevator to arrive.
    “Unless they’re filming an orgy, yeah. I assume Oliver followed them here, not us.”
    “Good point. I think Tim and the girls might be open to the orgy idea, though.”
    “Thankfully, I know without asking that the flyboys are not.”
    “Your Puritanical attitude is rubbing off on them, I see.”
    “Like you wanted to be filmed?” he asked as we got inside the elevator.
    I shrugged. “Might be fun to watch.” I didn’t actually think so, but it was fun to needle him sometimes.
    Martini grabbed my waist with both hands, lifted me up and put me against the side of the elevator. “How fun?”
    I put my legs around his waist and pulled him into me. “Lots of fun.”
    We practiced for our next Vegas limo ride the entire way up. Fortunately, it was a high hotel. Unfortunately, we knew hitting the stop elevator button would cause alarms to go off. We compromised by making out wildly. I had to brush my hair again, and his, when the elevator stopped.
    Clothes adjusted, hair faking it, we got out and walked down the hall. I could hear voices as we neared a large set of open double doors. The suite Chuckie was in took up at least half of the top floor. Martini was muttering under his breath again before we were through the doors.
    Which was funny, considering his family was loaded and lived in a palatial estate in Florida. I hadn’t realized until today that it must have seemed like home on Alpha Centauri to Martini’s father. From what Christopher had said, they’d lived in a pretty palatial embassy when Terry was alive. Again, must have seemed normal to her. Chuckie’s money started to seem a lot more natural. I was an American, after all—royalty was interesting, but I was a lot more comfortable with the idea of success through capitalism.
    Everyone else from our team was there already, and so were Reader, Gower, and Christopher. The Pontifex, who also was considered a part of Alpha Team when it was convenient, was noticeably absent.
    This was the most comfortable briefing room I’d ever seen. The suite had a conference table, but it was loaded with food and drink, none of it alcoholic, I noticed. All the chairs were sleek and comfortable looking, and there were settees where the couples were perched.
    A can of Coke flew through the air. I caught it automatically. “Dude, you have got to stop that. I hate it when it sprays all over.”
    Chuckie laughed. “Sure you do.” Martini’s muttering got more intense.
    “Nice spread. I didn’t know we were moving in.” The place was huge, and the view was incredible. I stared down the Strip and found myself hoping we’d be here when it got dark.
    “Not at the moment.” Chuckie indicated we should sit as he went and closed the double doors. I heard him lock them.
    I decided not to rub it in and sat in a chair. Martini sat next to me and gave me a look. “His place, we play nicely,” I said quietly.
    “You’re so damned willing to play nicely with him.”
    “Because she’s smarter than you, Martini.” Chuckie sounded amused. He made eye contact with me, and I recognized his expression—there was someone nearby he didn’t like who didn’t like us right back. “But I’m willing to make allowances for Centaurion to be . . . adjusting to the way things are now.”
    “For the time being,” Martini corrected. I nudged him and tried to send an emotional “hush.” I caught Reader’s eye, he cocked his head, and I shook mine. He