The Continental Hotel has branches all over the world.
On the surface it's just a hotel; under the surface it's the largest gathering place for killers on the planet. It's the home of the assassins' code. There are two rules at the Continental. First: no blood is to be spilled on Continental grounds. Second: any contract laid before an assassin must not be violated.
The first rule is obvious — no violent incidents. The second is for killers: each member of the League carries a token of identity. If someone invokes that token for help, the request must be honoured. Refuse, and the offender answers to the League.
In practice the Continental operates like a neutral safe house, a sanctuary where business happens under strict rules. You cannot execute a target here. Break the rules and the League will deal with you.
Ethan knew what that meant. The Continental was a secure place for a transaction. Owen Davian's men wouldn't dare violate the hotel's rules. If the IMF staged the exchange there, Ethan would have the cover he needed to switch the Rabbit's Foot.
"You have to know the Continental's security is tight," Arthur said. "Do you really think you can swap the Rabbit's Foot inside?"
"Of course," Ethan replied with the calm of a man used to impossible tasks. "If I proposed this site, I can get it done."
"Good. Plan set." Arthur gestured to Dade.
Dade opened the box that would be the centrepiece of tomorrow's trade. "This is the crate they'll hand over."
"I'll have Dade fit it with a tracker," Arthur said. "When the Rabbit's Foot lands in John's hands, we'll know where he goes."
Ethan's face tightened. "What do you make of Theodore?" he asked. Even now, despite cooperating, he still weighed the men who'd given the orders.
"You'll see when John takes possession," Arthur said. "John's ambitions run deeper than you think. For now, stick to the plan. Continental tomorrow."
They climbed into their vehicles and left.
After Arthur and the team pulled away, Luther sat back and spoke the obvious out loud: "This mission is to flush the mole inside the IMF, right?"
They'd all heard Arthur's plan. No wonder Theodore had been cagey about the briefing. The first step was clean — the swap at the Continental. The second step, catching Owen and the mole, was the hard part.
"That's it," Ethan nodded. He'd already placed John high on his list of suspects. If John was the leak, the consequences for Theodore would be catastrophic.
"Take it one step at a time," Ethan said, rubbing his temples. "We'll be careful. Continental's not a place to take chances."
"By the way — Jane, what exactly did Arthur do to you?" Ethan asked, easing the tension.
Declan grinned. "I think that's the leader of the Round Table. If someone's got looks, money, and the skill — why not?" Luther added, with a wolfish chuckle.
Jane rolled her eyes, embarrassed but amused. They bantered for a moment before Ethan sent the transaction coordinates to Theodore. Then they dispersed to make preparations.
At the same time, John learned the trade would be set at the Continental. His face hardened. The choice of venue made Irving's men hesitant to move openly; it would be difficult for Owen Davion to take violent action there.
John had done the math: if the Rabbit's Foot arrived in Ethan's hands at the Continental, Ethan could stage a swap. That would force Owen to commit, and he'd make his buyers wait while he negotiated. John smiled at the leverage. He sent Owen a confirmation and left.
⸻⸻
Berlin, Owen Davian's estate.
Owen stared at the email on the screen. He didn't know who had sent it, but the data inside was correct. The IMF had picked the Continental for a transaction with the Round Table. His men had been in Morocco for days with deposits from the buyers in the Middle East. If he failed to deliver, the penalties would be lethal.
He'd already accepted deposits; he'd promised delivery within a week. Two weeks had passed. If he missed the next window he'd lose millions — and risk retribution from the buyers.
The Continental made him cautious. The League's reach meant any rash move inside the hotel would draw assassins from across the globe. He couldn't afford that.
"Monitor closely," he ordered. "And remember: nothing inside the Continental. No action unless absolutely necessary."
He did not dare anger the League.