DAY ONE
"Ese no es Harry?" (Isn't that Harry?)
"It is. Qué hace aquí? Tiene siglos sin aparecerse." (Why is he here? He's been gone so long)
"Tú crees que se viene un peo?" (You think there's trouble?)
"Who cares? Verga... se puso más bueno!" (Heavens... He got hotter!)
Harry, decked in a black dress shirt and slacks with a duffel bag in his hand, walked toward the two lingerie-dressed girls on the long, red lantern-lit hallway. They swung back their hair seductively, trying to show off parts of their bodies they felt were their best assets as he approached.
The bustier of the two ran her hands over them, pushing them up deliberately while the other batted her lashes, running a finger down his arm.
"Atlas?" Harry asked.
The girl's faces fell and they took a step back. They both pointed down the hall.
"Last room to your right," the busty girl added.
Harry gave them a curt nod, took two steps away from them and stopped. He withdrew two wads of cash from the duffel bag, threw it into their arms and watched their faces lit up.
That was more than they would make in a night. He knew that.
He pointed a finger at himself, brought same finger to his lips and pressed it over them. The girls understood, a single nod from them passing that information across. Harry continued briskly down the hallway amidst squeals from the girls, ignoring the sounds coming from the room lining the hallway.
THE RED DISTRICT.
One of the biggest in the city, second only to the one the Don handled himself — where most of his business deals took place. This was one of the places he'd run whilst still in Venezuela. It was Vlad's turf now.
*Makes me wonder why she's here. She never got along with Vlad.*
He stopped at the door the girls had pointed to and knocked. There was no answer. He tried again. Same. He pressed his ear to the door, trying to pick up any sound from the room.
*She's not with someone, is she?*
Glancing down the hallway, he stepped back and lunged forward to slam into the door. The door opened just as he did so and unable to stop himself, he collided with the person on the other side of the door and they met the floor.
"Okay," came a feminine voice from under him. "I quite like this position."
Harry pushed to his feet, shut the door behind him and turned back to the bathrobe clad lady in front of him. "Atlas."
She was still as lanky as he remembered, with eyes that seemed to always have a wild scenario running behind it. She whistled.
"Damn, Harry boy," she teased. "Someone's been working out."
Harry ignored her, lowered himself into the single sofa in the room and dropped the duffel bag on the floor beside him.
"As grumpy as ever," Atlas said with a smile, pulling open the door of her wardrobe. She untied her bathrobe, let it pool at her feet. "Oops. Forgot I've a guest. You don't mind, do you?" She asked, a smirk on her face.
"Get it over with, we've business to discuss."
She chuckled, slipped into a short and pulled a sweatshirt over her head. "Is there a reason why you contacted me through Xander? I'm not exactly that hard to find."
"Need to be discreet. No one can know I was here." He glanced around the room. "Why are you in this crappy space?"
"Vlad. Your beloved Pana." (Buddy)
Harry tensed, his jaw locking. Atlas chuckled.
"Trouble in paradise, I see."
"Don't act like we didn't fall out a long time ago."
"What actually happened between you two? You used to be inseparable."
Harry looked away. "People can go from people you know, to people you don't."
Atlas quirked an eyebrow, placed a hand over her heart. "Does it hurt? I mean, if it's what I think, you were just—"
"Not sure where you got the idea that I want to be understood," Harry interrupted.
"Cold motherfucker," Atlas muttered. "What do you need my help with then?"
Harry pushed the duffel bag toward her with a leg. "To find a shipment."
Atlas's lips shaped a silent O. "You know I don't handle the Logistics and Dispatch anymore, right?"
Harry stood. "I deducted that much. Just as I know you're cunning enough to keep your fingers dug in somehow."
Their eyes met, held and slowly, Harry raised an eyebrow. The corner of Atlas's lips tugged up. "You're too smart for your own good, Harry boy, but then, that's part of your charm."
"So. You can get in?"
Atlas picked up the duffel bag, unzipped it and grinned at the contents. "With this? Of course! They call me Ghost Router for a reason."
"Used to."
"You don't need me changing my mind, do you?"
Harry raised his hands in surrender and nodded at the bag. "Everything you need's in there. And no, there's nothing that traces back to me. You taught me better."
He watched as Atlas set up a temporary station at her desk: there were three monitors. Only one was on. The others blinked black, sleeping — like attack dogs waiting for a whistle. She sniffed at the cash in the duffel bag with a grin before dropping them on her bed, and proceeded to the other contents — a flashdrive, a barcode sticker, an invoice sheet, a scroll and a burner phone.
She pointed the burner phone at him. "Your number had better be in here."
Harry gave her a look and she laughed. "You're lucky I'm still your *favorite* hacker. So, what are we looking for?"
Harry came to stand beside the desk as the other monitors came on. "Drug shipment bound for Don Marquez."
Atlas whistled. "You got into hot shit this time around, Harry boy. Suspect?"
"Vlad."
Atlas froze, her eyes slowly moving to meet Harry's. "You're positive?"
"Said so himself. Gave me a *fucking* ultimatum."
"I think I said the favourite hacker line too soon," she muttered, slotting the flash drive in with one hand, already typing with the other. "That motherfucker. Tell me about the ultimatum. How long do you have?."
She listened as Harry narrated the events of yesterday to her. Once he was done, she nodded in understanding, giving him a look of concern.
"You sure you're okay?"
"Are you always this nosy or am I just lucky today?"
Atlas laughed and pushed the scroll open — A map. Her eyes narrowed on the red markers all over it. Harry's notes were all over it in shorthand, showing possible theories and entry points. She raised amazed eyes to him.
"Is this—?"
"Vlad's known and unknown warehouses and docks, with routes and weak spots? Yes," Harry supplied.
Atlas bent over in laughter. "Damn. You work hard and smart, Harry boy. You made my work easy, I could kiss you now."
Atlas got to work: fingers flying over the keypad and screen, marker between her lips to cancel out sites, switching between flash drives, maps, chats and calls to her logistics, and dispatch allies.
"How much longer?" Harry asked, tapping his fingers on the desk, his eyes skipping to the door occasionally.
Atlas sent him a quick glare. "However long I need. What were you doing when they were hauling the shipment away, by the way?" She asked absentmindedly.
Harry flinched but said nothing. Atlas's gaze skidded to him and back to the monitor. "I saw that press release, you know. The one...with the doll-like but sharp features, petite, ceramic shine redhead."
Harry frowned. He opened his lips to speak but caught himself.
"She must have paid well for you to take on the case personally, she's definitely loaded. She has a weird flawed, outworldly beauty going for her. Even her freckles are cute." Atlas glanced at Harry again. "Yes. I paid that much attention. If I didn't know how emotionally unavailable you're, I maybe would've combusted with jealousy. I mean, just that one drunk kiss and you almost cutoff our friendship."
Harry tensed. "Why are you bringing all that up?"
*I don't want to think about her right now.*
Atlas shrugged. "You know I ramble when I work, helps me focus. Is she that beautiful or was it just the cameras?"
*She is.*
He said nothing.
"Vibe killer," she mumbled under her breath. "This will take while. You might want to lie down. You hungry?"
Harry sighed and moved to sit on her bed. He fished out his phone and just like he'd done yesterday, stared at her text, fighting the urge to open it.
*Not now. Not yet.*
With a sigh, Harry pressed the power button and the screen of his phone went blank. Placing it on the bedside table, he lay back on the bed, hands behind his head.
"How did you end up here?" He asked.
Atlas sighed over at the desk. "Similar to this: shipment I routed went missing."
Harry frowned. "Doesn't sound like a problem for you."
Atlas scoffed. "Yeah. Right. Except that the thief brought the shipment back to the Don himself and became the hero."
It was tuned down but Harry still caught the hiss in her voice. He knew who Atlas hated even the air he breathes.
"Vlad?"
"Who else. The snake replaced me with one of his, probably why he knew about your shipment, and I ended up here."
"Where he would've eyes on you," Harry mumbled under his breath. Atlas nodded in agreement. "Good thing I stayed in the shadows on my way here, then."
"You know he's planning something, right? Building. All these aren't fucking coincidence."
Harry nodded.
*He's probably preparing for the succession. Nipping every possible threat in the bud. Great foresight. Hasty decision. Bad execution. He's making more enemies than friends. He never learns.*
"When does he get here?" He asked, glancing at his wristwatch.
"His men and I run the show here," Atlas answered, her lips turned down in disapproval. "He shows up when he wants to have fun with the girls, or when he's angry and needs a mat to vent on."
Atlas glanced behind at Harry and as their eyes met, the same realization occurred to them.
"Are you thinking what I am?"
Harry nodded, turning to stare at the ceiling. "M-mh. He's going to be pissed knowing I'm in Venezuela and not tagging behind him as always. Probably more because he can't figure out my whereabouts."
"He was here last night. Was wondering who pissed him off. He'll probably be back tonight."
Harry stood. "I'll need to keep moving then. What—"
"Or you could stay here. My room is off-limit."
Harry shook his head. "Vlad is rash but not stupid, Atlas. I've been under the radar since last night. He'll get worried. Paranoid. And since he knows our history, won't be long before he comes knocking. He's your boss, you can't stop him from searching."
"Don't remind me of that. I still can't believe I'm working under the motherfucker. Ugh!"
Harry smiled. "You'll get used to him."
"Like you did?"
"Okay. Enough banter. What's the status?"
Atlas turned back to her monitors. "Still a couple of routes, warehouses and docks to check, but I confirmed that he received a shipment from Barcelona. Which—"
"Means the shipment is in one of his warehouse here in Venezuela."
"Bingo. Makes sense. He would want to keep it close since he knows he's dealing with you."
"How soon can you track it down?"
"Before he gets here," Atlas answered, getting back to work. "I need to wipe all this before he does. Ghost, remember?"
Harry scoffed but nodded in approval. "I'll need my off-books crew for the hit," he thought out loud. He turned to Atlas. "I'll leave this to you, I've a few other things to put in place." He gestured to the burner phone. "We'll stay in touch. Don't get caught."
Atlas nodded and stood as Harry made for the door, snatching his phone off the bedside table. She watched him reach for the door, something unreadable crossing her eyes — too knowing, too familiar. "Try not to die, will you?" she murmured, placing a hand on his arm. "We only just reconnected."
Harry gave her a little smile and a nod. Then, he was gone, the door closing softly behind him.