At the gate, I tell the driver to keep the meter running. One of the guards uses a golf cart to run me up to the house where I change into oxfords, jeans, a long-sleeve tee shirt and a sports coat. Pick up the phone and call my security firm.
A voice says, "Code, please." After I say the code, Sui, my personal security consultant, comes on the line and we exchange phrases to verify my identity. Finished, Sui says, "Ninety-one percent reliability on voiceprint. Might be worth the money."
"Got the job, Sui," I tell her. "I'll relocate from Salt Lake City to Reno. Report to work on Monday, October first."
"Does Peter Marriott have any idea what we're doing?"
"No," I tell her. When she is silent, I add, "Peter doesn't realize that by focusing on the job I'm doing for him, he's missing what you and Mei will be doing to his Las Vegas assets, Sui. In fact, after I signed the contract, he told me that he's looking forward to working closely with me on this."
"Good," says Sui, "because he's the only one at Ferro smart enough to figure it out, so keep him busy manipulating you for a year or so. After that, it won't matter." She pauses and says, "When you get back to Reno, you'll have two bodyguards on you while you're not at home or work. Yoshiro will run with you every other morning. I've selected your personal bodyguard for those times you're inside Doc's Place, but she's in Utah right now and she won't be ready for a couple months."
"I want to recruit her personally, Sui," I say.
"I'll arrange it," she says.
"Where are the keys to the Buick?"
"Good-looking Mexican kid will palm you the keys as you step out the gate. Just walk out to short-term parking and bear to the right and back. Can't miss it."
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