'Before I answer, would you mind if I did a Raw scan?' Stone asked.
'What's that?' Richmond asked.
'A check for radio waves,' Stone said. 'I want to make sure you're not broadcasting to someone on the outside.'
'Fair enough,' Richmond said.
Mandor shrugged.
Stone went to the luggage stand at the foot of the made bed. He removed a device that looked like a small flashlight with an earplug.
He put the plug in his ear and slowly shone a cone of pale yellow light down each man in turn. He seemed satisfied with the results.
'Would either of you care for something?' Stone asked. 'A beverage?'
'I'm okay,' Richmond said.
'Me, too,' Mandor told him.
'Tell me about Pete,' Richmond went on.
'Peter is an old friend of my employer.' Stone drew a cell phone from the inside left pocket of his tailored black blazer. 'You may phone Peter if you wish. He will vouch for us.'
'I already spoke to him,' Richmond said. 'He told me you were okay, but he did not tell me who you work for. Or what you want.'
'Or what it pays,' Mandor added. That was the only thing he cared about. If the price was right, he would pretty much do anything for anyone.
Stone sat in one of two wicker chairs beside a small dining area table.
He invited the other men to sit. Richmond took the other chair. Mandor perched on the edge of the bed.
'I work for a gentleman who is an intelligence officer and political activist who has a great many supporters in the international business sector,' Stone said. 'Peter Farmer is one of those men. When the time comes to tell you more, you will be very proud to be a part of what we are doing.'
'Will we?' Richmond said laconically.
'That's assuming we decide to become a part of this,' Mandor said. He did not know what Richmond was thinking, but Mandor did not agree to anything blindly. 'You want us to trust you, but you're not trusting us.'
'An employer's prerogative,' Stone said.
'We're not employees yet,' Mandor said.
'True,' Stone said. 'Let's see if we can remedy that.'
Stone was smooth, probably a lawyer. Mandor did not like him. The young man smiled confidently as he slipped a slender hand into his shirt pocket. He withdrew a small manila envelope and placed it on the table. The package clanged lightly.
'There are two keys inside,' Stone said. 'One of them operates a charcoal gray Dodge van on the bottom floor of the parking structure.
The van is in your name, Mr. Richmond. The second key opens a safe-deposit box at the Las Vegas International Trust and Fund Company on Flamingo Avenue. Inside the box is twenty-five thousand dollars in cash. That is half the payment you will receive for what will be three days' work. Would you like to hear more?'
Richmond and Mandor looked at the envelope and then at each other.
'Why the van?' Richmond asked.
'The windows are dark and bulletproof,' Stone said.
