Fifteen operatives surveil the V.I.P. section, yet I continue to stare through a gap in the curtains behind the stage. The drug distributor hasn't arrived yet, but the undercover agents he's meeting with are cuddled at his table nursing drinks. Stefano's ordered a Negroni cocktail since they don't serve straight Campari.
Tucked in his muscular embrace is Kara-Dee Miller, a new recruit who has mistaken his encouragement during training sessions as genuine interest. Their cover as a married couple allows Kara-Dee a bit of leeway. Though still planning to dislocate her jaw if she sticks her tongue in his mouth one more time.
"Heads up," boss says through the earpiece.
Sweep the crowd. Two Caucasian men in dark suits descend the stairs. It's the perp, Ethan Drage, with his bodyguard.
Back at the table, Kara-Dee climbs into Stefano's lap. The ho-bag presses her mouth to the side of his neck like a blood-thirsty vampire and reaches around to grope at his backside.
Whoa! That firm Italian ass is mine, puta!
Stomach twinges with raw anger. How dare she take advantage of him during a mission when he can't break character. Have to do something. Hands skim up the leather corset to the thin knife concealed between my breasts. Can't carry a gun in this get-up.
Drage joins them, offering Stefano a handshake and smile as Kara-Dee makes it clear that she's comfortable at the center of their attention.
Lady Gaga's "Poker Face" fades out. The performer flits offstage. Another girl appears at my right with a whiny, "Get out of the way!"
