Deadly Paths

by Jack Parker

  "Only if I get to find you later at the hotel too," Carlo replied in his most charming voice. Rain laughed at his little flirt, but she would find out soon enough that he had meant every word. He might as well get some tail out of this. Spy Games was very nearly becoming more trouble than it was worth. He swept Butch's hand off his shoulder as if it were lent.

  "Lead the way. The show must go on."

  * * *

  "Show must go on," Mako said under his breath as he tossed a few coins into the street performer's guitar. Behind him, he could feel his partner Charlie make a face as they walked along the walkway that would take them over Las Vegas Boulevard from the not yet open Grande Chapel Hotel to the Caesar's Palace outdoor pavilion.

  "Thank you, sir," said the scraggly looking musician.

  "Ugh, why bother with that rabble?" his partner asked when they were further along the walkway. "You'll just encourage them."

  Mako shot Charlie a side-long glance without turning his head. He hadn't decided if he liked her yet, but at least she might be useful. She was a good shot. An Olympic silver medalist clay pigeon shooter by the time she was eighteen, Charlie was sometimes recognized on the street. So far, this had not been a liability. Instead, she had demonstrated she could use her fame to get special privileges. It occurred to Mako she would probably not make a very good soldier, but he respected women like her. Female snipers had played a big role the defense of the motherland, and his grandmother had been one. His grandmother had inspired so much of who he was, how could Mako not respect a woman that could shoot?

  "You don like music?" Mako asked curtly, keeping his Russian accent strong. After fifteen years in the United States, one could start to develop different accents. Mako was too proud of his Russian heritage to let that happen. He had fought and bled too much for the motherland. Most of it had been shed in Afghanistan, well before most American's even knew where to find that shithole on a map.

  "It's not about music," Charlie said. "It's the principle of the thing. They need to go get a job."

  "Not so easy finding a good job sometimes, no?"

  "Of course it's easy! Just walk into any Walmart. They're always hiring."

  At this Mako stopped and looked at her, fingering the paintball gun hidden underneath the large brown duster he had purchased. He knew she was similarly armed and was keeping hers underneath the large tan women's trench coat she wore. They were a smaller type of paintball gun designed for the show that carried only a small clip of five rounds to make them more concealable, but they were still far too bulky for Mako's taste.

  Charlie was a few inches shorter than he was, and probably a good twenty years younger. She had short, spiky blond hair and a little gold stud on the left side of her nose. There was fierceness in her eyes that suggested she might actually have what it takes to gun down another human being. He hoped for her sake she never had to. Sadly, her argument suggested to him that she was also quite naïve about the state of the world. He wondered for a moment if he might teach her a lesson with part of his story, but decided against it.

  "Want to have gunfight about it?" he asked, keeping his voice even.

  She laughed. "Oh shut up, Mako, you know you'd lose that in a heartbeat."

  Doubtful, little girly. Keep living in you're safe world and we will never find out.

  He did not laugh with her. Instead he simply resumed walking.

  "Come. Let's go make money. This is good job."

  And it was a good job. He didn't have to kill anyone for real, didn't have to torture, didn't have to spend hours and hours hungry and cold and motionless. All he had to do was find out who was useful to him and make the most money he could. The way this game was set up, making the most money meant taking the side of this silly Malevolent Anarchist something or other. Most players of this game thought it was too risky to do right from the start, but that was for people that did not know how to keep their intentions hidden any better. Survival in this world meant money, and Mako planned to make enough in this one silly show to retire from a life Charlie had never dreamed anyone would live.

  "Are you sure we shouldn't just lay low this round?" Charlie asked as they approached the check in point at the bottom of the spiral staircase leading to the pavilion. "I mean you figured out I was for MANTA pretty easily, maybe it's a little too obvious at this stage of the game."

  "Do not worry, my Devotchka," Mako soothed. "I am much better than most of these fools. Just follow what I say. Ya?"

  "Sure, pops, whatever."

  The check in point was a simple table designed to look like a vendor selling humorous T-shirts with slogans that might also be found on bumper stickers. Mako wondered if the television network kept those proceeds or if an actual vendor was involved. There were several people in line, including a flamboyant looking man in white with a Cowboy hat and a striking woman in a green dress. Mako was being watchful for couples in particular, and any number of the seven people in line could be members of the show. He was about to ask Charlie if she recognized anyone from the previous two rounds when a round of fireworks lit up the night sky, causing them both to look up.

  "Govno. It's started," Mako observed.

  "Gov-wha?"

  Mako took Charlie by the arm, leading her back up the stairs.

  "Nevermind. A bad word. They will make us wait until the next round now."

  "Yeah, so we lost a few thousand. We can still shoot him next round."

  Foolish girl, Mako thought with frustration. Must I explain everything?

  "Our advantage as MANTA is gone in the second round, Devotchka. Unless . . ."

  "Unless what?" Charlie was starting to sound impatient. Mako ignored her tone.

  He leaned forward to whisper in her ear. He wasn't sure if it would matter, someone was always listening. He had already noticed at least three cameras set up down in the pavilion, where there were undoubtedly several hidden among the decorations to get every detail of the action possible. Mako always tried to be aware of every camera, weather they were benevolent for the show or meant for actual security. It always paid to know were the blind spots where.

  "What gadgets you choose?"

  Mako looked upon the Spy Games gadget rule with mild distaste. The rule allowed every player to pick out two pieces of equipment called "gadgets" at the start of a mission. Most of the items a player could choose were completely Hollywood inspired, and offered little real use unless you found yourself in the exact situation the producer's hoped you would. There were items like watches with cutting lasers in them—little more than fancy laser pointers. But if you needed to cut your way into a safe or through handcuffs, you could declare that you were using your device and if you were using the gadget in the correct place then someone would come unlock the item for you. The further a player got in the game, the more they could use points to get gadgets which gave them advantages.

  Mako was glad there were at least some gadgets that had actual usefulness, provided one had an open mind. He had chosen a simple smoke bomb for this mission, which was contained in the butt end of a small flashlight. The other was a simple recording device disguised in a working cigarette lighter. He only hoped Charlie had been as practical in her selection.

  "Oh, nothing I think that would be helpful now," said the young woman. "Just a lipstick with a camera in it and my purse has a makeup kit with a talcum powder case that actually releases tear gas or something. I don't think that's real."

  "Let me see the case. And give me your pop-gun."

  Charlie furrowed her brow. "My paintball gun, why?"

  "Just do it."

  She slipped him the gun discreetly from beneath her trench coat, and he let her observe him as he unscrewed the CO2 cartridge from the pressurized weapon. She watched him as he found a bench to sit on and unscrewed the canister from his own gun, then emptied the paintballs from both. He worked quickly, not bothering to explain, as time was of the essence. At last it was obvious she could no longer hold back her curiosity.
<
br />   "What are you—"

  "Get ready with your charms, Devotchka. Here is what we are going to do."

  Chapter Seven

  "Take those damn things off!" Nova snarled at Jake as she swiped at his sunglasses. He jerked his head back and dodged her for the third time, then flashed her a toothy grin as he caught her hand to make sure she did not grab for them again.

  "Aw, but dear without them I'm just a guy in a cowboy hat," he said with an overly dramatic whine. "It's totally Vegas to wear them."

  "It is not!" she countered, lowering her voice to an angry, harsh whisper. "The last thing we want to do right now is stand out, and you my idiotic friend stick out like a Wookie in an Ewok parade!

  "A what in a what parade?" Jake asked with a laugh.

  "Nevermind," she said, her tone sounding defeated. "We'll split up. You go left and I'll go right."

  The man selling T-shirts had finally cleared them, and it was obvious to Jake that Nova did not want to waste any more time getting to Bennedetto. They had been forced to pretend to be browsing through the whole fifteen minute firework show and the ridiculous crowd confusion that followed as the wealthy man on stage was led away by a petite red head and a giant. It was frustrating after all they had been through in this mission to not be in the first group, but at least they had seen an example of what not to do.

  "Are you sure about that?" Jake asked cautiously as they walked with the flow of pedestrian traffic toward the casino. "You saw what our targets goons can do. Rain and Butch were lucky for the distraction of someone shooting. We won't have an extra pair in our group. It'll be us and just one other couple."

  "I know. Don't worry about me. I can take care of getting by those idiots. Have you recognized anyone yet? I'm empty."

  Jake had not, but he found her question to be a little ironic, since the task of recognizing anyone in this crowd was the exact reason for wearing his sunglasses. They were his gadget, and as persistent as she had been about him taking them off, he did not want to reveal to her just yet what his chosen gadgets for the mission were. It was a mistake that he had seen other players that were far too trusting make, allow opposing players to know your typical gadget selection, and they would know what to expect to counter you later on in the game. The sunglasses were connected to the 4G internet much like a cell phone would be, but they were preprogramed with the database for every contestant on the show, with a short bio. All he had to do was capture a face within about thirty meters from a small camera hidden in the bridge of the glasses, and the system would try to match the face to the database. The glasses had been a reward for him for completing his previous mission in first place. They were imperfect, as there were numerous false reports that flashed before his eyes when using them, and they had taken some getting used to for sure. They were also extremely lousy at blocking out any sunlight at all.

  "Not yet," he told her. "But I'm working on it. I'm pretty good with faces."

  "Yeah? Maybe you'll have better luck with your other gadget."

  Jake stopped short, nearly running into a trio of chattering women walking the opposite direction. How had she known? Was she just guessing?

  "What do you mean?"

  "Come on Jakey, we don't have time for you to play dumb. Is there anything you have that can help us better than those ridiculous glasses?"

  She cocked her head and fluttered her long lashes at him expectantly. He sighed, truly baffled at how he had met his match against this woman.

  "Cell phone works as a tazer," he said with a sigh. "Provided the bodyguards follow the rules. Did you see how hard they went after poor Rowdy?"

  "Is that the guy who got tackled on stage?"

  Her tone was sweet, but was already laced with poisonous intent. After a moment's hesitation Jake decided he had no choice but to answer truthfully.

  "The same."

  "Glad to know it. Now take of the stupid glasses. I'll even say please. I'd make you toss the hat too but someone might try and return it."

  He tried to give her a superior look, as if he could somehow convince her she was the one being foolish.

  "You don't think I should keep trying to identify our competition this round?"

  "Does it really matter?" she shot back at him.

  Jake looked away from her and took off the sunglasses.

  "Anyway, they've noticed us," she said as she kindly placed a hand on his shoulder. "We need to move."

  "Who. . ."

  Turning around and glancing behind them, Jake noticed two serious-looking men in white suits weaving through the crowd towards them. One of them spoke into a lapel microphone and was gesturing towards Nova. Jake spun back to look at the stage, where the body guard that had roughed up Rowdy seemed to be listening, two fingers pressed to his earpiece. The voice of the master of ceremonies boomed over the audio system.

  "And now, ladies and gentleman. Here to kick off our celebration of the Chinese Lunar New Year, please welcome the hotel kingpin that will soon be bringing you the Grande Chapel Hotel and Casino behind you, Mr. Carlooooo Benedettoooooo!"

  Jake spun back to Nova. He was going to ask her how the hell these guys knew who they were already. Carlo's security wasn't supposed to know them from Adam and Eve, and yet security was clearly alert to their presence. But Nova was gone, disappeared like Batman in mid-conversation with Commissioner Gordon.

  Where the hell she go?

  The bodyguard by the podium whispered something in Benedetto's ear before he stepped to the podium, and the hotel tycoon nodded, smiling as if just being told some good news. He looked as far to the right as he could, then back towards the stage. He even tried to see if he could spot Nova by the direction the bodyguards were moving, but she had disappeared into the crowd as seamlessly as throwing salt into water.

  "Fine," Jake spoke to himself in a disgruntled tone as if Nova could still hear him. "You went right. Guess I'll go left."

  Jake had to say, "Excuse me" several times as he gently nudged people out of the way and started to make his way towards the left side of the stage. The crowd was quite a bit thicker this time around, probably because the word had now gotten out to bystanders that this was a little bit more than a Chinese New Year's fireworks show. Jake saw more than one person looking at people near the stage with suspicion and pointing them out to their friends or lovers.

  Jake made his way past a father holding his kid on his shoulders, and took Nova's advice. Removing his hat, he tossed it in a trashcan with a swing-shut lid. This seemed to do the trick, as he witnessed the two bodyguards that had been tailing him through the crowd stop and look around in confusion.

  All the while Benedetto was repeating his small presentation word for word.

  "We are honored to have famous fireworks guru Cai Gui-Qiang with us tonight to give us a special demonstration of this ancient art. If you will remember the two thousand and eight Olympics . . ."

  Jake just laughed as he tuned Benedetto out. It's pronounced Chang not Quang you idiot. One would have thought somebody would have corrected him after he messed it up the first time. I guess no one is listening to this crap after all.

  Jake had almost reached the stage. Ideally, he and Nova would rush up there and nab Benedetto at the same time, but he still had no idea where the smartass harpy was. How had she disappeared so completely? Benedetto seemed to be scanning the crowd closely now, and Jake could not blame him.

  "So what was part two of your master plan, Super-Nova?" Jake muttered to himself as he palmed his fake cell phone. "Let me do all the work?"

  Jake feared it wouldn't be long before the bodyguards located him again. The cell phone fired a small imitation of a large electronic staple, which with hook itself onto the clothing of anyone he fired it at from a range of about five meters. It would then give the person a small electric shock, not enough to actually hurt or knock them out, but enough to let them know they should pretend to be electrocuted. This was all assuming the Benedetto's guys would play by the rules. Jake de
cided his best chance was to rush the stage at the moment when Benedetto went to set off the fireworks, just like Rain and Butch had. Only he would attempt to get the big guy with all the fancy jewelry out of the way with his cell-tazer. If that didn't work, he was allowed to wrestle, and maybe he could keep the guy occupied long enough for Nova to grab baldy. If only he could get some sort of distraction.

  A blond woman with short spiky hair on the front row opened her trenchcoat, flashing Benedetto. The bald man reacted by chocking on his words mid-sentence as his jaw dropped.

  Ask and ye shall receive, Jake thought.

  He crept towards the stairs, slipping under a velvet rope that was often used inside fancy theaters. Someone bumped into him as he stood back up, running into his shoulder and nearly knocking him over. For a moment, Jake thought someone from security was already on him, but a leathery looking man dressed in an old faded black duster glanced back at him and said, "Sorry."

  "No problem!" Jake called after the man, who did not look back as he worked his way back into the crowd. Had that man just come from this side of the stage? Jake was in what was supposed to be a secure area, already a casino security guard was calling out to him. Why didn't they notice the other guy in the duster?

  "Hey you!" called the guard. "Get back on the other side of the rope!"

  This got the attention of Benedetto's men, both the one on the stage and off.

  Jake rushed for the stairs. The two in the crowd would never catch him, but as predicted, the giant met him at the top of the stairs. Past the bodyguard, who grinned at him with a golden tooth gleaming in the casino lights, Jake could see Benedetto look reluctantly up from the topless woman at the foot of the stage and notice his bodyguard's actions. People in the crowd began to cry out in warning.

  Jake lifted his cell phone tazer, pressed the activation button, and fired the electric staple directly into the gold chain around the big man's neck. The big man screeched in surprise, pawing at his neck as the chain amplified the small electric shock, and stumbled backwards enough that Jake was able to knock him over with a well-timed shoulder tackle. But like he feared the bodyguard did not care about pretending as he reached for Jake, catching his ankle as he tried to run by. Jake fell to the floor of the stage face first, but managed to catch himself with his arms and yank his foot free. At that moment, Nova finally appeared.