Troy stepped out of 'The Spade Hart', the crisp night air biting against his face as he walked toward the waiting black sedan. He pulled his phone from his coat pocket, dialed a secure line, and brought the receiver to his ear before the driver even opened the rear door.
It picked up on the second ring.
"What do you want this time, Troy?" a raspy voice asked without greeting.
"Watch your words," Troy said, sliding into the leather back seat and shutting out the street noise with a heavy thud. "I need to know Rivers' moves for the next few days. Every flight plan, every meeting, every dinner reservation. Where is he going to be?"
There was a brief rustle of papers over the line, followed by the faint clinking of glass. "The guy's schedule is pretty hard to obtain, but word is he's heading to Geneva on Friday for the international auction."
Troy leaned forward, his brow furrowing as his fingers dug into his knee. "Geneva? Why do you think he's going there?"
