Casino Infernale

by Simon R. Green

  “I’m right here, and I’m not sure I do,” said Molly.

  “I’d leave the Casino right now, if I were you,” I said kindly to the Little Lord. “Hotel Security are probably already on their way here to investigate the shooting, and Casino Security will be hot on the trail of their stolen null generator. Besides, I don’t think the Casino’s a healthy place for you. Now you’ve got your soul back, there’s always the chance you might be tempted to gamble it again.”

  “I didn’t mean to,” said the Little Lord. “I was just so desperate to get home again.”

  “Then you’d better have some money, too,” I said. “To help you on your journey.” I produced a thick wad of notes from my pocket, and offered them to her. The Little Lord put her gun away, and accepted the money almost shyly.

  “Yes,” she said. “Thank you. I . . . I’m out of here. I’m going home!”

  She turned and left. I went over to the door and pushed it shut. I turned back to find Molly looking at me.

  “You really think she can get out of this hotel, and evade Casino Security, on her own?”

  “Why not?” I said. “She has a portable null generator and I’d like to see anyone stop her, the mood she’s in. She’s going home. Wherever that might be. Planet of the Aristocratic Imposters, perhaps.”

  “Oh, I can tell you where she comes from,” said Molly. “The Nightside. She’s an old friend of Razor Eddie, Punk God of the Straight Razor.”

  I sighed, quietly. “Tell me she’s not the Little God of Transvestites, or something.”

  “No,” said Molly. “Nothing so grand. She’s from some other-dimensional city port called Haven, and the sooner she goes back there, the better. You know, you really are too good for your own good, sometimes. Come here.”

  Not long after that the door slammed open again, and Frankie came hurrying in.

  “What the hell happened to the lock on your door? Did something happen while I was gone? Oh God, you’re at it again. Don’t you ever stop? Look, you have to listen to me! This is important! Really important!”

  “All right,” I said, stepping away from Molly. “I believe you. What is it, that’s so very important?”

  “It’s your parents!” said Frankie. “I’ve found them! I got lucky first time out, talking to the right person. The Casino is holding your parents prisoner, and I know where!”

  “Where?” I said, and something in my voice and in my gaze made Frankie stumble for a moment.

  “Right here in the hotel,” he said finally.

  “Are you sure?” said Molly.

  “Of course I’m sure!” said Frankie, regaining something of his usual assurance. “I told you—I can find out anything! The Casino has both of them locked up in a specially guarded holding cell, down in the hotel sub-basement. But you have to come with me, right now, because they’re about to be moved!”

  “Let’s go,” I said.

  Frankie dithered impatiently, while I made sure I had all the Armourer’s special weapons and devices stored away somewhere about my person. I wanted to be sure I was ready for anything. Molly stuck close to me, comforting me with her presence, making it clear that she was ready to back me up, in whatever I chose to do. Finally, I nodded to Frankie, and he led the way out of the room.

  • • •

  As we hurried down the deserted corridor towards the elevators, I rehearsed in my head all the things I intended to say to my parents when I finally caught up with them. To Patrick and Diana—or Charles and Emily. I hadn’t spoken to them since my family home returned from the alien world it had been exiled to. We’d meant to sit down and talk, and catch up. But we’d all been so busy, and then Casino Infernale got in the way. There was so much I wanted to say to them, so many questions I needed answered. . . . I was still angry with them for abandoning me to the Droods to bring up. For not letting me know they were still alive. And, for betting my soul and losing it, without even asking my permission. But I was a field agent, just like they had been for so many years. I knew that sometimes you have to think on your feet in dangerous situations, and make sudden decisions for the good of the mission. I wasn’t ready to judge or forgive them, just yet. I was ready to listen, and try to understand.

  There just might be a lot of shouting involved, first.

  We waited impatiently before the closed elevator doors, as the damned thing seemed to take forever to arrive. I kept looking up and down the empty corridor, but there was still no sign anywhere of any kind of Security. If I was Scott, I’d give them a real earful for their poor reaction times. But it was just as well, for the Security goons. I wasn’t in the mood to be messed with. The elevator doors finally opened, and we all hurried inside. Frankie hit the button for the sub-basement, the doors closed, and the elevator started its descent.

  It took a long time to pass all the way down through the dozens of floors, to the very bottom. I kept checking my pockets to make sure everything was where it should be. I was still dangerously tense; Molly was poised and ready for anything; and Frankie seemed to grow more and more nervous. I didn’t blame him. He wasn’t the fighting sort and he was about to see a Drood enraged. It was not going to be pretty. The elevator finally slowed to a halt, and we all braced ourselves as we waited for the doors to open. When they did, I was first out.

  And then I stopped, and glared at Frankie.

  “Wait a minute! I know this place! This isn’t the sub-basement; it’s the underground car park!”

  “Same thing!” Frankie said quickly. “They don’t have a call button marked for the car park, or anybody could get in! Now will you please keep your voice down! We’re not supposed to be here, remember? There are still some staff around. . . .”

  “I have to wonder,” said Molly, looking carefully between the rows upon rows of parked cars, “when we were here before, did we perhaps pass right by the holding cell, and not even know it?”

  “This hotel is full of secure locations,” said Frankie, hurrying on ahead and glancing quickly about him. “They’ve got stuff holed away here you wouldn’t believe. There are whole sections of Casino Infernale that don’t even talk to each other. Now will you please hurry up and follow me!”

  He quickly threaded his way through one particular set of parked cars, and I was right there behind him, with Molly bringing up the rear and shooting dangerous glances in all directions. The underground car park was exactly as I’d remembered it. A great stone cavern full of very old and very new cars, sitting silent and still in their orderly rows, and no sign of any staff anywhere. And then Molly stopped, abruptly. I sighed, and looked back.

  “What is it, Molly?”

  “Something’s wrong,” said Molly. “As in, something doesn’t feel right.”

  And that was when the Casino Security people dropped their concealing illusion, and a whole army of very well-armed guards appeared all around us. We’d walked right into their midst, completely unaware. What looked like all of the remaining Jackson Fifty-five were in position around us, cutting off all the exits, pointing all kinds of guns at us. I stood very still and after I glared at her, so did Molly. From out among the parked cars, sauntering along, came the hotel manager himself, Jonathon Scott. Frankie looked at me, shrugged and smirked, and then moved over to stand with Scott. The Jacksons let him pass, unchallenged. Molly made a deep growling noise.

  “So,” said Scott, stopping a respectful distance away from me and Molly. He looked me up and down with more than common interest. “You aren’t the shady and shifty Shaman Bond, after all. Instead, you’re a Drood in disguise. And not just any Drood, but the almost legendary Eddie Drood. Your reputation very definitely precedes you. Though I always thought you’d be taller.”

  “I get that a lot,” I said. And then I looked at Frankie, who flinched under my gaze, but quickly recovered.

  “Sorry, boss. I really was with you all the way; right until yo
u started that nonsense about bringing down the Shadow Bank. I was listening outside the door. Old habits. I am too old and too experienced to work with crazy people. So I went straight to Mr. Scott, explained my position, and struck a deal. He was most understanding. And it must be said, the Shadow Bank pays a hell of a lot better than the Droods.”

  “You really are a bastard,” said Molly.

  “One of the Grey Bastards,” Frankie said proudly. “The clue is in the name.”

  “Don’t try anything, witch,” said Scott. “We have a full-strength portable null zone generator working down here.” He indicated a large machine, standing to one side, guarded by half a dozen Jacksons. “Your infamous magics are being very thoroughly suppressed.”

  “I don’t believe it,” Molly said to me. “You’re legendary, but I’m just infamous?”

  “How about the machine?” I said.

  “Oh, that. Yeah, scumbag here is right. I’ve got nothing. Getting really tired of that, I have to say.”

  “You don’t have to say anything, witch,” said Scott. “So shut up. Let the people who matter talk, or I’ll have you gagged.” He waited a moment, to make his point, and then gave me his full attention. “So, a Drood without his torc. No sign we can detect that you ever had one . . . I never thought to see such a thing.”

  “Giving it up wasn’t easy,” I said. “But bringing you down will make it all worthwhile.”

  “Typical Drood arrogance,” said Scott, entirely unmoved. If anything, he seemed amused. “You have no idea how much money I’m going to make out of you. From auctioning you to the Major Players here. The secrets waiting to be dug out of your mind, and after that’s gone, your body . . . What your new master will tear out of you will change the order of the world. . . . Drood secrets, for sale to the highest bidders.” He stopped, and thought for a moment. “I suppose . . . I could always ransom you, back to your family. . . . They’d pay really big money to keep your secrets from getting out. But no. Too risky. Your family has a reputation for dealing harshly with anyone who wants a more equitable playing field. No, I think it best they don’t know anything about this until it’s all safely over, and it’s too late for them to interfere.”

  He broke off to smile on the increasingly fuming Molly. “I’m sure we’ll get a decent sum for you too, witch. And oh the things we’ll do to you, before we let you go. I’m sure your new owner won’t mind if we have some fun with you first. As long as your mind’s intact, they won’t care what we’ve done to your body.”

  I must have moved forward, because all the guns immediately moved to cover me, and Scott actually fell back a step. He glared at me.

  “Stay right where you are, Drood! And don’t try to run. I need you alive, not intact. Having the Jackson Fifty-five chase after you and drag you down would just be embarrassing for all concerned. Now, Eddie, please be so good as to remove that nasty gun of yours from your hidden pocket dimension, and drop it on the floor. And when you’ve done that, you can empty out all your pockets, and show us all the lovely toys the family Armourer gave you just for this mission. I’m sure my superiors will have such fun, working out what they do, and how best to use them against your family.”

  “Can I ask a question?” I said.

  “What is it?” said Scott.

  “Do you really have my father and mother imprisoned down here somewhere?”

  “Of course not!” said Scott. “Haven’t a clue where they are. Didn’t know they were your parents, until Frankie volunteered the information.”

  “One more question,” I said.

  “It’s no use trying to put it off, Drood,” Scott said pityingly. “It’s over! You lost. I never thought to see the legendary Eddie Drood beg and plead for just a little more time, before the inevitable awfulness.”

  “I just wanted to ask,” I said, “whether you’ve informed your lord and master, Franklyn Parris, as to who I really am?”

  “Not yet,” said Scott. “That’s going to be my little surprise at the end of Casino Infernale. My gift to him to ensure my promotion.”

  “That’s all I needed to know,” I said. “Lady! Now!”

  And the Scarlet Lady came roaring forward, blasting out of her parking space just behind Jonathon Scott; sounding her horn loudly as she came charging to the rescue. She swept past Scott, who threw himself to one side, crying out, and ran right over the Jacksons defending the null zone generator. She smashed right through the machine, blowing it to pieces, and then spun around to run over the Jacksons she hadn’t hit the first time. They opened fire on her, and their bullets ricocheted harmlessly from her chassis. They just had time to scream once, before she ran them down and chewed them up under her wheels.

  I drew my Colt Repeater, and carefully shot Scott in the leg. So he couldn’t run. I didn’t want him dead, just yet. He screamed almost hysterically, as though he couldn’t believe such a thing could happen to someone like him, and then he collapsed, clutching at his leg with both hands. He shouldn’t have threatened my Molly. I turned my gun on the nearest Jacksons, and picked them off one by one.

  Their bullets flew past me, but none of them even came close. They had their own problems.

  With the machine destroyed, Molly had her magics back, and she was not in a good mood. She gestured sharply, and all the cars around us exploded. The Jacksons standing among them were caught completely off guard, terrorised by the sudden fiery explosions. Some were killed instantly, others caught fire. Those remaining tried to target Molly, but she was off and moving. Here, there, and everywhere. Popping up between the remaining cars, hitting the Jacksons with energy bolts, shaped curses, and really nasty hexes that made their flesh run away like water. Eventually, she got tired of playing with them, and summoned up a great storm wind that came howling through the underground car park. It ignored me, but picked up the Jacksons and slammed them into walls and ceilings and support pillars. With such force they all blew apart like rotten fruit under a hammer.

  I lowered my gun. There was no one left to shoot at.

  Frankie ran for his life. I ran after him. He really could run, but all the parked cars and blazing wrecks slowed him down. I used my pattern-spotting ability to work out where he was heading before he even knew himself, and then it was easy enough to get myself in just the right place to intercept him. I vaulted over a parked car, landed on him hard, and threw him to the ground.

  We rolled back and forth on the concrete floor. Frankie tried to fight me, but he didn’t really know how. And I’ve been trained. I knocked the breath out of him, and then slammed the back of his head against the hard floor. He stopped struggling. I hauled him back onto his feet, and he stood before me, holding his head with both hands, crying like a child.

  “Where are my parents?” I said.

  I had to slap his face a few times to stop him crying. Anyone else, I would have felt like a bully.

  “Where are my parents?”

  “I don’t know!” said Frankie. “No one knows where they are! I only said they were here to get you to come with me! It was all Scott’s idea!”

  “You betrayed me,” I said. “And Molly. And the family.”

  “They were never my family!” said Frankie. “Never. I’m a Grey Bastard, and I have to make my own way. Please don’t hurt me. I can still be useful to you.”

  “You really think I’d trust you again, after this?” I said. “You’d sell my true identity in a moment. To Franklyn Parris, or the Major Players, or anyone at all, first chance you got. For money, or spite, or just to prove to yourself that you were still your own man.”

  “All right,” said Frankie, drawing himself up with something like wounded dignity. “What are you going to do? Kill me in cold blood? That isn’t you, and you know it.”

  “No,” I said. “I’m going to kill you in hot blood. For what you would have let happen to me, and Molly.”

  I
set the barrel of the Colt Repeater right between his eyes. I really did mean to kill him. I had to think only of what Scott had intended for Molly, and I got sick to my stomach. But in the end, Frankie was right. I couldn’t do it. Couldn’t just look into his pleading eyes and execute him. I stepped back, lowered the gun, turned my back on him, and walked away. Frankie laughed at me. And the Scarlet Lady went roaring past me and ran him over. I heard Frankie scream, and then go quiet. I didn’t turn back to look. Just kept walking. After a while, the car came back to join me, idling along at my side.

  “Some shit I just don’t put up with,” said the Scarlet Lady.

  I nodded. I couldn’t bring myself to thank her, but I think she understood.

  • • •

  I rejoined Molly, standing guard over Jonathon Scott. He had his back propped up against a support pillar, sitting in a pool of his own blood, trying to hold his shattered knee-cap together with both hands. Blood pumped between his fingers. His face was pale and beaded with sweat. His eyes were wide and shocked, but his mouth was set in a flat grim line. He was hurt, but not broken. He looked up to see me approaching but he didn’t flinch.

  “Frankie?” said Molly. I shook my head. She nodded, briefly. “Good. Now, what are we going to do with this vicious little shit?”

  “I’m thinking,” I said, staring down at him.

  “You don’t dare kill me,” said Scott, forcing the words past his pain. “The Shadow Bank would declare war on the Droods for such an open insult.”

  “Over one failed mid-management type?” I said. “I don’t think so. Your kind are always going to be expendable in such a big organisation. But you could still be useful to me.”

  He looked up at me then, the beginning of hope in his eyes. “I know things,” he said. “I could tell you all kinds of things. . . .”

  “Yes,” I said. “You will.”

  I looked round at the Scarlet Lady, who’d parked just behind me.

  “Do you know where the nearest Drood field agent is, Lady?”