Read Online Radiant Angel by Nelson DeMille - Free Book Online

ladies were doing it for love.
    It would be good, though, if we could compromise Petrov and get him booted out of the country, which would make our unpaid labor worthwhile. Meanwhile, I have to serve drinks to topless ladies.
    The speakers were now blaring,
Jeremiah was a bullfrog
, and I felt like dancing. In fact, a few corpulent gentlemen were gyrating on the deck with a few of the ladies, who seemed intent on drinking these guys handsome. The bad light helped.
    Our drink orders were ready, and as Tess and I moved off with our trays, five ladies, led by Tasha, lined up at the edge of the pool, took off their tops, then slid off their bottoms and dived into the pool in unison, which got a round of applause.
    Tess said, “This is too much. John?
John?
”
    “Huh? Oh… I can’t watch. I need better light.”
    She made a sound of disgust and walked away from me.
    Anyway, the music switched to Russian nightclub music, like Pitbull, the drinking and dancing continued, and more people got naked in the pool or the hot tub. Tasha and a few of the other ladies were now sitting on the hairy shoulders of the guys in the pool, playing some sort of game with a beach ball. I couldn’t figure out the rules, but it looked like everyone was a winner.
    Tamorov was still knocking down frozen vodka and smoking up a storm, but Petrov and his two companions just sat there, making perfunctory conversation, barely noticing the naked ladies. Clearly they had more important things on their minds. In fact, I noticed that Fradkov seemed almost nervous, though Igor appeared calm and alert, like a pit bull waiting for a command. Petrov glanced at his watch, then checked his cell phone for a text.
    Tess came up to me and said, “They’re laying out another buffet, so I’m going to the kitchen.”
    “Okay.”
    “Are you coming?”
    “I’m still on surveillance.”
    “Take a break, John. You’ll get eyestrain and go blind.”
    “Right. We need more tonga torches.”
    Naked Tasha was kneeling on a guy’s shoulders, her arms outstretched, waiting for a beach ball pass. The pass came, wide, she reached for it and fell into the water, and everyone laughed. I wondered how much of this I should put in my surveillance log. That reminded me that I had to call Tasha tomorrow.
    “John? Are you coming?”
    “You go ahead.”
    She turned toward the house, but I said, “Hold on.”
    “What?”
    I tilted my head toward the ocean and she followed my gaze.
    Coming toward us were the running lights of a watercraft, maybe a hundred yards from shore, and as the craft got closer I could hear its motor. I also noticed that one of Tamorov’s security guys was on the beach, holding a flashing green light.
    I looked toward Petrov and saw in the flickering lamp light that he was standing, along with Fradkov and Igor. Tamorov, too, was standing, and he was now barking orders in Russian to his security guys. Dmitry, Petrov’s driver, stayed in the pool, as though he’d been pre-instructed to stay put.
    Tess asked, “What’s happening?”
    “Don’t know. But Petrov does.”
    The security guys were quickly rounding up some of the Russian ladies, who were slipping back into their bikinis and cover-ups, grabbing their bags, and assembling near the steps that led down to the beach.
    The boat got closer and I could see by the light of the rising half-moon that it was maybe twenty-five feet, with an open deck and a man steering from the covered cockpit, and another man sitting beside him.
    Tess observed, “It’s heading right to the shore.”
    “Seems so.”
    “Who are they?”
    “Don’t know.”
    I didn’t sense any danger, and it was obvious that the boat was expected. Nevertheless, it was times like this when a boy missed his gun. I said to Tess, “Go back to the kitchen. See if you can get a call off to Matt. We need aviation and harbor units.”
    She hesitated, then said, “Let me see what’s going on so I know what to say.”
    I didn’t want to