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“Oh, that’s where you’re wrong,” Win said.
The car drove down the Strip and through the gate that protected the tarmac for the private jets. Myron saw Win’s parked out to the right. The lights were on inside.
“Where is Spark?” Myron asked.
“Right there.”
Another SUV pulled through the gate.
“How did we beat him here?”
“He hit traffic.”
“It’s the same route we took,” Myron said.
“Come. Let’s say goodbye to our guest, shall we? We can even apologize if you’d like.”
Myron looked at Win. “You have another idea, don’t you?”
“I’m taking a page from your playbook,” Win said.
“Meaning?”
Win didn’t reply. He got out of the car. Myron didn’t like where this was going, but he also knew that sometimes when the “WinMobile” was swerving all over the road out of control, it was best to stay out of the way.
Win started toward the SUV carrying Spark. Spark got out. Again Myron was surprised by the sheer size of him. It wasn’t just the height. His chest was broad enough to handle a paddleball match. Myron watched Win head toward the big man with his hand extended for a handshake.
“I’m sorry this didn’t work out,” Win said.
Spark looked as though he was on the verge of losing it. “I just want to get home.”
“I understand.”
Win, too, was a good athlete. He wasn’t a pro-level one like Myron, but he made up for it with constant training and a detachment that made him border on the genius. He had learned self-defense, speed, strength, planning, coordination, takedowns, maneuvers, strikes, weaponry from literally the world’s best teachers. He planned fast. He saw the angles. He coldly and mercilessly took advantage of every opening.
He also had remarkably fast hands.
Spark was carrying his phone. One second the phone was in his hand, the next moment, Win had snatched it away.
“Hey! What the—”
Win looked at the phone. “As I feared, the phone is locked. Facial recognition and all that.”
“Are you kidding me?” Spark had had enough. “Give me that goddamn phone or I’ll bust you wide open.”
Win grinned at the much, much larger man. Myron spotted the look on Win’s face. He didn’t like it.
Myron said, “Win.”
Spark stepped closer. It was always a mistake to crowd your opponent. Even if you’re the bigger man. You think it’s going to intimidate. It may. But it won’t intimidate those who know how to fight.
Just the opposite in fact.
“I don’t give a shit how rich you are,” Spark said. “Give me back my phone, asshole. Now.”
Win didn’t move back a step. He craned his neck, looked up, and said, “I don’t think so.”
Myron again said, “Win.”
