Chapter - 329
The Grand Ballroom of the Warner Chateau was a masterpiece of old-world intimidation. Crystal chandeliers the size of small cars hung from vaulted ceilings frescoed with scenes of Greek tragedies. The walls were lined with tapestries that cost more than the GDP of the countries the guests were currently discussing how to exploit.
Rick stood at the service entrance, peering through the small circular window of the swinging door. He was back in the kitchen, but his mind was in the ballroom, projected there via the HUD in his bio-mask.
"Status," Rick murmured into his throat mic.
"The wine is poured," Nadia's voice came back, crystal clear. She was moving among the tables, a vision in the severe black-and-white uniform of a sommelier. She moved with the grace of a predator, filling the glasses of the world's most powerful men and women with the Screaming Eagle 1992—laced, of course, with Rick's $250,000 Grapes of Wrath nano-swarm.
