Evan had been unwilling to admit to himself what a toll the last week and a half had taken. But now the rawness overtook him, threatening to divert his focus. He snapped himself back into line, reminded himself where he was and what was at stake. He was in a shark cage circled by great whites; the last thing he could afford right now was a stroll down memory lane. Jack was dead. It was up to Evan and Evan alone.

The bidders had settled in to wait not so patiently on the folding chairs, quarreling or sitting sullenly. Candy McClure and Orphan M were the only two not in the room. Evan wondered what plans they were hatching in private. As much for show as for anything else, René kept one dedicated guard standing by the vault door, his AK trained on Evan. Back by the grand piano, Assim was on his knees, cutting precise lengths of det cord off the spool.

A ring of duct tape dangling from his mouth, Assim walked back to the Lexan vault again. With shaking hands he taped a length of det cord along the hinge side of the door. He used smaller strips to augment the main charge. When he was done, he stood back to admire his work.

For a moment he and Evan faced each other through the Lexan.

“Ready to get yanked through the looking glass?” Assim tapped the Lexan. “We’re minutes away.”

Evan felt his heart rate quicken, so he focused on his breathing. Right now there was nothing to do but inhale and exhale, inhale and exhale.

Heading back down the aisle toward the staging point in the rear of the ballroom, Assim snapped his fingers. Two guards carried over a hefty olive green ammo can. They moved cautiously, setting down the metal box with extreme care. Assim unlatched the lid, smiled down at the contents. It took two men to lift out the initiation assembly. They did so gingerly. It was a factory-assembled unit, fifty feet of wasp yellow nonelectric shock tube wound around a coil, the blasting cap already crimped onto the end. Given that it was shock-sensitive, even a four-foot drop onto the hardwood could set it off.

The non-el shock tube, once unrolled and connected to the det cord, would function like a fuse. From a healthy standoff, Assim would flip a lever, propagating the firing impulse through the shock tube snaking across the ballroom floor to the vault door. A fraction of a second later, Evan would be lying on his back inside the blasted-open Lexan vault, bleeding from his ears.

Sensing that a climax was near, the bidders vacated their chairs, gathering around Assim.

René turned to Xalbador. “Two of our guests are missing.”

One of the other narcos said, “They’re resting in their room until the auction starts.”

“Get them,” René said.

Xalbador nodded and started out.

René turned back to the room. “Are we ready?”