“I didn’t mean to scare you,” his boss’ face had some humor in it, “after you put the limo away, I need you to take care of some odds and ends for me. Okay?”
Uncle’s touch made him feel sick. His stomach fell like a stone, his rectum clenched and he felt faint for a moment and had to steady himself against the limo’s trunk.
“Feeling all right? Something wrong?” Uncle’s face was inches away. Billy could feel heat—anger?—emanating from him.
“Yeah. Fine. Just a little tired.” Billy struggled to maintain himself and not lose it.
“Ah well, it has been one helluva day.” Uncle released his arm and turned back to his guests.
Billy only had to pull the limo up and park it a few hundred yards away under its covered space in front of the casino. It wasn’t a whole lot of time for him to call Williams, but he would have to make it work. He pulled out Father Bob’s phone and hit the redial.
“Williams.”
“It’s me, Billy.”
“What is it?” Williams sounded concerned.
“He’s starting the ceremony earlier.”
“What! I’m scrambling as it is now. How soon?”
“He wants to start an hour earlier.”
“Christ! That means we are an hour and ten out.”
Billy started and he looked at his watch. The day had raced away; Williams was right. “There’s another thing—”
“What?”
“I think he suspects me.”
“Fuck! Well maybe you should just come in then. You won’t do me any good if you’re dead.”
“But that might make him more suspicious—he might kill everyone as soon as he knows I’m missing.”
“You’re right. Do you have a weapon?”
“I did, but he borrowed it earlier and hasn’t given it back.”
“Great.”
“Don’t worry. I think he needs me for a while at least.”
“Okay, well when you feel like you can duck out without being missed, do it. Like you said, he needs you. But I want you to get out of his reach as soon as you can. There is no sense in sacrificing yourself. I’ll try to move things up, but we need to make sure we get everyone involved, all of the evidence, and save the hostages.”
“Not in that order, right?”
“What? Oh no, not in that order—of course not.”
Billy wasn’t so sure. He had the feeling that the FBI was political, just like any organization, and everyone was looking out for themselves. “Okay. I’ve got to go.”
“Okay, Billy. Be careful. Call me at about twenty till and I’ll tell you where we want you.”
“Yes.” Billy closed the phone, got out of the limo and jogged back to the casino, trying to stay calm.
Williams closed his phone and pocketed it. His assistants were buzzing about, talking on the phones and working the computers. It was controlled chaos and he needed a minute. He went out on the balcony and lit up. Across the city the shimmering white of the Azteca gleamed. Inside, just like the tombs of old, it held treasure. If this Billy was right, it held enough solid physical evidence to solve hundreds of crimes and perhaps bring down a group of criminals across the country. The horrible nature of the crimes and their ties to the occult would attract the attention of the globe and he was lead investigator. His ship had come in … his golden fleece was within his grasp.
The Vegas heat pounded him, cooking him and he began to sweat. A breeze pushed his cigarette smoke behind him. He looked west and saw thunderheads building. The breeze increased, not a cooling breeze, but the heat of a barbecue. His cell phone rang again and he sighed, stomping out his cigarette with his heel. He went back into the building, answering as the door closed behind him.
Tom jogged the horse across the casino’s giant parking lot. It might have been an almost normal day, except Tom was suffering from a bullet wound across his shoulder while riding a stolen police horse. Farley was darting from car shadow to car shadow trying to save his paws from the searing asphalt. Tom called him and the dog leapt onto the horse. The police horse, to his credit, only sidestepped a bit and snorted. Tom reassured him and in a few yards the horse seemed to accept this latest indignity. Farley leaned against Tom’s chest, loving this closeness to his master. Much as Tom wanted to race up to the building at a gallop, he slowed the horse to a walk, trying to figure out his approach.
Chapter 56
Taylor saw his guests checked into their rooms then headed up to his office to sit and think. He pulled a bottle of vodka from the bar freezer and poured himself a tall one. He sat back down in the dark and sipped and thought. He still had Billy’s weapon. It was unlikely Billy had already gone to the cops, but it would be best to get rid of him before he became a problem. He would do it tonight, at Ash’s memorial, along with Susan, the cowboy’s wife and the priest. He was certainly going to give his guests something to talk about. He would rather have stretched so many victims out into a period of days, but things felt out of control now and he needed to tidy up loose ends. He had lost much of his trusted crew—Ash, Weasel, Steve and now Susan and Billy. It would take time to find and train replacements. Plus he had a new son, a baby to care for—tonight was going to be insane.
He had let his anger get to him when he had talked to Billy at the limo. He needed to collect himself and put on his poker face until they were all together at the memorial. He glanced at his Rolex—he had fifteen minutes. There was not time to arrange for seating above the shark tank or black candles or any of the things he had planned for the original event. His guests would be waiting for him in the lobby to escort them down to the basement for the special treat he had promised them. He drained his glass and slammed it down hard and summoned the energy to stand. He felt bad—numb and tired, and was it dread he felt tingling in the back of his head? But what could he do? He had to deal with the mess. His highest duty was to dispatch Susan, author and artist of this whole fucked-up scenario. He paused to look out his large window; the Vegas sun was slipping behind the mountains and it looked like they were in for a thunderstorm. Far off downtown he could see a whole slew of emergency lights inching this way. No doubt those Mother Nature First characters had caused something—he could still see them below, blocking the freeway exit. And there in the parking lot he saw a lone horse cop slowly approaching the building. He felt unsteady and ill as he watched the horseman near. Here undoubtedly was the purest cop ever. Thank the One he was patrolling the parking lot and not in here.
He turned away from the window and headed to the elevators, and with every step away from the window he felt better. If he wasn’t so tired he might have wondered about his reaction to the figure so far below in the parking lot, but his mind went to the pathetic creatures in the basement and the pleasure of watching his sharks eat them.
The elevator doors closed behind him and a force began to exert itself in the hidden room. A tiny whirlwind picked up the photos of the trussed boys and girls and scattered them. The fluorescent lights flickered, buzzed and went out. A black candle tumbled out of one of the cupboards and flickered to life, igniting a pile of photos, and this in turn burst into a flame that would soon set fire to the ether in the adjacent cabinet, creating an explosion.
Because the hidden room was built into a small, but long empty channel that ran through the center of the Azteca, the fire would have plenty of oxygen. It would gain a foothold through the whole building, long before the fire alarms and sprinklers were to go off.
Billy watched his boss via security camera as he collected his guests in the lobby and took the elevator to the basement. The second the doors closed, Billy dashed across the hallway and used his pass to take the elevator to the executive offices. The smell of smoke was strong and he could feel heat as he ran past the bathrooms and the hidden room. He stopped and ran back to the elevator, stuffing a small lobby table into the doorway so the door wouldn’t close somehow and leave him trapped here. There were stairs, but Uncle always kept them locked and no on
e asked why. Then he ran back to his office and snagged the priest’s bag. He put the giant gun into the back waistband of his pants. The thing was heavy and he worried it might pull his pants down. Now he could see smoke coming from beneath the maintenance door. He would try to call 911 when he got downstairs. He kicked the table out of the way and the elevator doors closed. Who would start a fire? It had to be Uncle, but why? He had not watched him every second, but it seemed impossible, but who else? Uncle must be out of his mind to start a fire in his own casino. Whatever was going on, Billy knew that Uncle had to know about him. The man had set his own fortune afire—he was past desperate and crazy. Back in the lobby, Billy knew his safest and wisest choice was to leave the casino and wait outside for Williams.
Chapter 57
“He wants Landon,” Cami called to Father Bob; she was shuddering badly now and her teeth were chattering.
“I see,” Father Bob called back. He watched the toddler in his arms. It would make sense for Taylor to replace Ash. It made him sick to think of the sweet baby becoming a trained monster. This might mean he would have a few minutes before they took Landon from him. Cami wouldn’t be so lucky. “I think you best keep the scissors. What do you want to do?” He felt there was little he could do to help Cami.
“I don’t know. They will probably kill me.” The words seemed unreal to Cami. “But I want to take that big bastard out with me or at least hurt him badly.”
Oddly she felt sorry for the bitch that was responsible for bringing her here. Perhaps she had been an innocent child like Landon at one time and she had been raised without love, only to live and serve a hateful uncle and the darkest of entities. Cami wondered how close to death the woman was—the small form would shake occasionally and her breathing was shallow.
Cami felt badly for the woman the same way she felt for the rattlesnakes she sometimes saw on the highway—run over in the middle and damaged beyond repair—suffering incredibly, yet still deadly poisonous, with enough strength to strike out blindly in maddening pain. The little woman had to be near death—vomiting blood was never a good sign. Cami felt the uncle would deal with his niece first—he seemed to have a deep hatred for her—perhaps even a fear-based hatred? Strange how the fiend could fear a young woman who might weigh one hundred pounds soaking wet. This thought made Cami leery enough to expect no good from the small form near the edge of the platform, and although she pitied her a bit, she hoped the little bitch would distract the tall man enough that she might have a chance to damage him—she didn’t hope to kill him, much less survive her attempt, but to damage him very badly, perhaps was the best she could hope for. She stood and brushed her free hand on her extremities, trying to warm them into functionality.
The ding of the elevator froze Cami for a moment, and then she and Father Bob looked across the void at each other.
“Pray for me, Father Bob. Protect Landon.” It seemed to Cami that her words didn’t belong to her.
“I’m praying for you now. I’ll protect Landon. Be strong, Cami.”
The sound of voices approaching the aquarium reached Cami and Father Bob. It almost sounded like a tour group, with the steady buzz of conversation and occasional laughter. A group of men and women climbed the stairs to the platform with Taylor towering above them all. Cami steeled herself and held on to the railing; she stood as tall as she could and did not try to hide her nakedness. When they saw Cami and then Susan and then the sharks, the questions flew. Taylor held his hands up and silenced them all. “It is a very long story, but it boils down to this …” He gestured below. “My pets.” He gestured to Susan. “My stupid, treacherous niece.” He gestured to Cami. “Wife of the murderous cowboy, kidnapped by Susan. And last, but not least, a snooping priest, who is holding the cowboy’s son, who is soon to become my son and apprentice.” He pointed at Father Bob and Landon.
“And now back to my pets, who haven’t eaten for quite some time.”
“Don’t feed that woman to the sharks! She’s gorgeous—I’ll buy her from you.”
“A priest! Let’s have some fun with him.”
“Feed Susan to the sharks!”
“It might make them sick!” There was laughter at this.
“I can’t feed Susan to the sharks. She must take the blame for the kidnapping of this woman and the disappearance of her son. ”
The babble and questions rose again and Taylor tried to silence the group again, but all of these victims and the novelty of the shark tank and the demise of Susan, the hated one, was too much and the din continued.
Billy stood in the lobby. The building was on fire, but he and Uncle were the only ones who knew that. Uncle was in the basement about to kill innocent people and the FBI was still a long way from the scene. He walked in circles for a few seconds like a chicken missing its head, wondering what to do, when he noticed people pointing and staring out the windows of the lobby.
A very tan and strong-looking man riding a police horse with a dog in front of him was approaching the lobby doors. He wore a white shirt with a lot of blood on it and he had a gun in his hand. Billy went out to meet him though he was not sure why. He felt like he was in a dream.
“Stop there,” the man said as soon as Billy came out the door. Billy stopped. “You’ve got Father Bob’s bag.” The man said the words slowly, disbelieving, and he stared at Billy like a predator.
“I’ve got his cell phone too and his gun. My boss has him handcuffed in the basement. Mister, I don’t know who you are, but I need some help. There’s a lady and a baby down there too and I think he’s going to—”
“Cami? Landon? Are they okay?” The intensity of the cowboy cranked up and he rode the horse so close to Billy that he could touch it if he wanted to.
Billy stared back into the intense eyes, trying to calculate why he was talking to this man and how he fit in with the priest, the lady and the baby. He gave up. “They’re alive, but we’ve got to hurry. I called the FBI, but they won’t be here in time.” He glanced at the limo. “Come here quick!” He ran to the limo and pulled out the gray opener. “Here!” He tossed the opener and Tom caught it with his gun hand against his chest. “Down to your right is the basement door. I’m going to take this”—he pulled the .357 out and gestured towards the hotel—“and meet you on the other side after I get off the elevator. My boss has my gun—a sixteen-shot Beretta—I don’t know about the others.”
Tom sat staring at the opener for a moment and then watched the man run back towards the casino.
“Hurry!” the man yelled over his shoulder. “There are sharks!”
Tom’s brow wrinkled, but he squeezed the horse into a gallop towards the ramp that must lead to the basement. He wondered at what the man had said. It sounded like “sharks,” but that couldn’t be right, could it? Who was this guy and how could someone who worked for Taylor possibly help him or his family? He brought his focus back to the now and the large automatic door before him and pushed the button.
Chapter 58
Taylor felt his blood pressure rising as the questions and talk of his guests bubbled on. He heard the ding of the elevator and saw Billy coming out of it. “Billy! Hurry up! Fetch the baby!” Billy trotted to obey and climbed down the ladder to Father Bob, who held the child in his arms.
Taylor turned away towards the sound of the automatic garage door and didn’t see Billy quickly exchange the child for Father Bob’s big silver gun.
Taylor turned back to see Billy climbing out of the tank with the child. He hit a button on the railing of the platform. Instantly, the gate separating the tanks began to ratchet down. The water streamed over the edge into Father Bob’s tank. The sharks knew this game, because they were at the gate, waiting for the moment when they could cross over to their meal.
“Richard! What are you thinking? A priest is a rare treat! Let’s feed your sharks a tourist instead!”
Taylor held up his hands for silence. “There are some problems that have come up. I don’t have time to explain now
, but this is my casino and my call and this is how it is going to go down. The woman and the priest will feed my pets. Susan will die of her injuries, sustained from her accomplice, who also will die. The child will be my newly adopted son, heir and apprentice.”
The guests looked back at him. “Her accomplice?” asked an older man with a Russian accent.
“Billy,” Taylor smiled, “my newly promoted right-hand man, as treacherous and untrustworthy as my niece … aren’t you, Billy?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mr. Taylor.”
The water was already at Father Bob’s knees. In only minutes it would hit his chest and the sharks could swim to him. “Give the baby to its mother so she can kiss him goodbye,” said Taylor coldly, “and uncuff her.”
Cami took Landon and held him as best she could with her free arm while Billy unlocked her wrist from the handcuff. “Oh, his binky. It fell. Can you get it for me?” Cami asked Billy. Billy looked at her blankly.
“His pacifier. It’s in the grate.” Cami stared into Billy’s eyes and winked.
Billy looked down. “Oh.”
And then he saw something extra on the binky and wondered at the woman’s ingenuity. He slipped the shot into his hand, holding it hidden behind his wrist with two fingers. “Here,” he said, handing her the binky.
“Come here, Billy. I am going to shoot Susan and then you are going to eat your gun—or at least it will look that way.”
“Maybe you should eat that gun yourself.” Standing there, below the last three steps of the platform, was the cowboy.
Taylor knew it had to be him. How the hell he got here was a mystery. Yes, the eyes that stared unflinchingly back at him, the Colt .22 leveled at him, the growling dog with hackles raised—it was the cowboy.
The Sacrifice Page 23