“Line up the body shots please!” she yelled at the barman.
“Body shots?” Bronte asked.
“Yeah. Lay down on the bar. You’re going to be the body.”
“Say what?”
“We need to dial up the party, honey,” she smiled.
“Why don’t you be the body then?”
“In this catsuit?” she said, motioning to her dark shiny PVC outfit.
“Why not? The liquid would roll right off.”
“Lay down!” she said, clearing a spot on the bar.
He shook his head then pulled himself up to sit on the bar.
“Yo, ladies!” Salvi shouted. “Care for a body shot?” She pushed Bronte back to lie down, tore open his expensive shirt and sprinkled salt across his chest. She licked the salt off, downed her shot, then slammed her mouth against the wedge of lemon in his, pulling it out. She sucked the wedge, then spat it out and looked at the crowd.
“Who’s next?”
Several women raised their hands and stepped forward.
Salvi fixed her bright red lipstick in the bathroom mirror. The door opened and she paused when she recognized the face that walked through. It was Belle from Cyber. She looked straight past Salvi like she didn’t know her and subtly checked each of the stalls. One was occupied so she moved to a basin two up from Salvi and started messing with her long dark hair and adjusting her nose ring. Salvi, too, prolonged her beauty routine, waiting to see if Belle had a message for her.
While they fussed with makeup and hair, the other patron finally came out, washed their hands, preened and left. As soon as they were alone, Belle stepped right up to her and whispered.
“Cut that shit out,” she said. “You’re drawing too much attention. These guys like subtlety.”
And just like that, she swooped past her and was gone.
Salvi looked at herself in the mirror. She kept a straight face in case there was a hidden camera somewhere, but inside she cringed. Belle was right. She grabbed her purse and walked out.
Salvi emerged from the bathroom, found Bronte and moved him over to the lounge area.
“I think maybe we should go,” she said to Bronte.
“It’s only 2am.”
“I know, but I think I fucked up. We want to move up so we’re acting desperate. These guys won’t want show ponies drawing attention.”
“Good point.”
“I mean, we suddenly start turning up every night,” her mind turned over, “and then we’re being flashy with the bar shots. Discretion is the key to the basement. Besides,” she looked around, “I don’t see the ponytail guy tonight, and no one we’ve partied with strikes me as the type to have keys to the basement. Let’s face it, those with keys go straight up, they don’t hang here on the ground floor. Well, except the ponytail guy.”
Bronte nodded.
“We’ve announced our arrival,” Salvi said, “now I think we need to turn the volume down a little, so as not to frighten off the friends we want to make.”
“Alright. Let’s head home. Tomorrow we’ll skip a night, maybe try one of the other clubs, then we’ll come back.”
Salvi nodded, and they headed for the door.
Salvi stared at Ford.
“We gotta find another way in,” she said, as they stood in the empty office with Bronte, Kara, Sorensen and Noble.
“This is the way in,” Kara said. “You get to the ceiling, then you hit the basement.”
“You said it’s taken you months to get to the third floor. Every night that passes, more people die, and we’re no closer to finding the Chief’s daughter or Caine’s killer. We’re wasting time.” She looked to Ford. “Any homicides last night?”
Ford nodded. “There was a gang-fight over on the east side of the ‘Mission. Riverton is reviewing footage as we speak.”
“The ‘Mission?” Salvi said. “Our troubles are centered in the Sensation but it’s already spread to the Transmission. Our club scene, which is also the drug scene, and our tech scene. Drugs and tech. It’s this new experience; if this takes off it’ll be in the suburbs before we know it.”
“Hey,” Ford shrugged, “tell me about it. Our guys are working doubles trying to handle everything. If it keeps up, I’m going to have to pull in resources from other hubs.”
Salvi thought of Mitch then, wanted to check in with him and see how he was doing.
“How’d Farrugia and Burke go at Bounce?” Bronte asked.
“Alright,” Sorensen said. “They witnessed some dealing, but they’re staying low key for now.”
“We can’t wait,” Salvi said. “We need to accelerate things.”
“Yeah, but how do we do that without getting someone killed?” Noble asked.
Salvi looked at him, her mind turning over. “If we want to get the head, then we start with the head that we can see. Lance Chaney.”
“Easier said than done,” Kara said.
“Is he straight or gay?” Salvi asked.
Kara shrugged, “Straight, I think. Who knows?”
“So we send me in, alone, and I’ll find a way to work on him direct. I’ll get him to give me the keys to Ceiling, if not the whole damn basement.”
They all stared at her.
“It’s too obvious,” Sorensen said. “If he’s involved somehow, he’ll know about Caine, and if he doesn’t, he’s going to be suspicious of new people suddenly turning up in his life.”
“So we make it less obvious. Send me to another one of his clubs. Find out what night he’s going to be there, and I’ll see what I can do.”
Salvi watched as they considered her suggestion.
“I’m not keen on sending you in alone, Brentt,” Ford said.
“It will take months, finding the contacts and getting through the floors,” Salvi said. “We want the head of this ring, so we target the head of Floor to Ceiling. This is the only way.”
“He owns Floor to Ceiling,” Kara said, “but that doesn’t make him the head of all this.”
“Maybe not, but he can’t run the club and not know what’s going down in there. He may not be involved, but he’s certainly looking the other way.”
“What other
