by Ian Jones
‘Yeah. That sound like Richard to you? You really believe that he would send me over here to get paid? And you are telling me you seriously believed the fact that Pablo is skint is down to his father? The man who built the hotel in the first place?’
‘Pablo explained everything. There are massive debts everywhere. He’s doing what he can.’
John gave up. What did he care about Thomas anyway?
‘Thomas, where’s Abby?’
‘Abby? What do you want her for?’
‘That’s why I’m here. Richard is worried about her; he’s not interested in the money. When did you last see her?’
Thomas looked surprised.
‘I haven’t seen her for a while, why?’
‘I need to find her Thomas. As I said, that’s why I’m here.’
‘Well she’ll be at the penthouse, with Pablo. They’re getting married. Pablo told me.’
Thomas finished the second drink and looked hopefully at John, who had heard enough. Thomas and Honeys deserved each other, so let him get on with it. He stood up and threw ten dollars on the table.
‘I better go check out the penthouse. Keep the change,’ he said and walked out the bar.
Thomas picked up the note and watched John confidently walk out the bar. What did he know?
But there was something about what he said …
No. He fished his mobile out of his pocket, he had to make a call.
Back in his office Pablo hung the phone up.
Maybe. This was a chance, and he had to take it. So Smith had given Ron a hiding but he was fat and old. Pablo was smarter. Now he knew where Smith was heading.
He called Skinny.
‘Skinny, get hold of Biscuits, and right now. I need you and him at the hotel in fifteen. You wanted the job, you got it, but it needs patience. It’s a waiting game, could be a long night.’
He hung up the phone and placed it on the desk, and then used the desk phone to call room service and ordered coffee.
As a prison this wasn’t so bad he decided, at least it had a bathroom and he could get fed and watered. And it was safe and out the way.
With luck, and if he was careful by the time the sun came up everything would be resolved.
Chapter Seventeen
As he headed for the strip he checked his phone. No calls. It had now been nearly six hours since his conversation with Patrick. It looked like he would have to deal with this without getting any help. Not bothering to conceal himself anymore he caught the monorail back to the MGM Grand and then crossed over walking back down the strip, which despite the rain was as busy as ever. He skirted the Mandalay Bay and made for the golf course, and dug one of the Glock’s out of the bag. He shoved it down the back of his trousers and concealed the bag inside the hedge again, then entered the hotel and went up to his room.
He got the binoculars and focused on the Penthouse. There was a dim light on in one part of it, but the rest was in darkness. There was no sign of any movement, but the blinds were still drawn. He sat very still for a long time, watching, waiting, hoping for a sign. He knew this was a 50-50 call. He could march straight in and start kicking in doors but there was every chance that if she was there she was sitting watching TV or eating dinner with Pablo, which would mean a pointless stand-off. Or, she could be buried out in the desert. Or she could be in a totally different city or state somewhere. He looked long and hard at the hotel down below. The place was open to him, Pablo had nobody left who could get in the way as far as he or George knew, so he just had to decide.
His phone rang, he didn’t recognise the number but he answered anyway.
‘John, it’s Patrick.’
‘Hey Patrick, anything in it?’
‘John, where are you now?’
‘In Vegas. Watching the Acropolis.’
‘OK. Stay clear. This is rolling fast.’
‘Does this mean you’re going to get over here and have a look?’
‘I’m in the Vegas field office right now. We just seized three serving FBI agents, and now we’re on our way to arrest two of Las Vegas PD’s finest, one of them a lieutenant.’
‘Jesus. I said I wanted it looked at quick, but I never expected you to get it moving like this.’
‘Like I said John, it’s rolling fast. Coincidentally, I am in charge of the department that investigates exactly this kind of crime. I believe we should be better than this John. The FBI are not perfect by any means, but there’s a clear line and it’s been crossed by a mile.’
‘So what’s next?’
‘Well speaking bluntly, we’re busy. Like I said we have got to swing by some police officer’s houses. This Pablo Escola, he has been paying off cops, the justice department, the FBI, probably even the man from the IRS for years. It was right there as soon as I looked at it. I could have got my most junior guy, hell even the janitor to take a look and it would have been obvious. I knew in five minutes I had to act.’
‘So what about Pablo?’
‘We’re picking him up after the cops. I got someone watching. We know he’s somewhere in the hotel.’
‘Have you got enough do you think?’
‘Everyone is singing John, so far they can’t stop talking. So yeah, it’s looking good. I’m real glad you called.’
‘OK, well I am too. I think I’m not too far from finishing my work here now. I think I know where Abby is.’
‘Right, well I will be in touch. And John, stay well away from the Acropolis OK? Don’t go anywhere near the place.’
‘OK Patrick, talk to you soon.’
So the decision had been made for him. He’d have to apologise to Patrick later. John checked his watch, just gone 2am. He pushed the Glock into his waistband, picked up the passkey and left the hotel.
He jogged across the road and walked up the steps into the Acropolis. As usual, there were plenty of people around so he wasn’t worried about Patrick’s comment about watching the hotel, his was just another face in the crowd.
He entered the building and crossed Reception heading for the door he had been through on his last visit, which was now standing wide open. He walked through into the large office behind, there were a couple of people working but they took no notice of him. The door on the other side was also open, and he saw a cleaner with a vacuum cleaner working in the corridor beyond. He followed it round to the glass panel door which was also propped open and headed for the lift. All the doors in the corridor here were closed and everywhere was silent as he passed by. If Abby was just sitting in the penthouse he was going to end up looking pretty stupid, Richard would no doubt ask why he hadn’t checked there first. But he always trusted his instincts, they had definitely kept him alive. As when he had been here previously the lift doors in front of him were standing open so he walked in and pressed the ‘P’ button. The doors slid closed and the lift climbed away up to the top of the hotel.
Once at the roof level the doors opened again. John pushed himself into the corner of the lift and took the Glock out. The penthouse was silent. The top half of the back wall of the lift was a mirror, which meant he could use it to see out. This was useful but it also meant anyone waiting outside would be able to see him too.
Nothing he could do about it, so he got on with it.
There was a simple square lobby which was lit by lamps on the wall. To the right he could see an opening to a room but from where he was standing there was nothing else he could make out. He ducked well down low and cautiously looked out round the doors. The lobby was empty, and from his viewpoint the opening to the right led to a large darkened room with all the blinds pulled. John calculated the far wall was the one visible from his hotel. Carefully he leaned out further and looked to his left. There was a closed wooden door, and a small table, and nothing else. He wedged the table to stop the lift doors closing again and made his way over to the opening, hugging the wall by the lift as he went. Once at the corner he peered round into the room, which was big, very untidy and smelt stale as if t
here was no air. In front of him was a long u-shaped sofa arrangement, with a low glass table in the middle. The only light was in from the lobby or the neon from the strip through the blinds. He crossed over to the far side and looked in again. Now he could see all the way into the room. There was a large round dining table ringed with chairs at the far end. There was no sign of life, the place was silent as a grave. He entered the room and slowly made his way around, treading carefully in the gloom. He took in the large screen TV, white powder on the table and dirty dishes everywhere. He circled the dining area and turned right through another opening which led into a long state of the art kitchen which had the blind open at one window and was lit by the glow from outside. The room didn’t look like it had ever been used. It ended with a huge fridge freezer and a door on the right. He stood to the side and slowly opened the door. Behind was much darker, and it appeared to be a simple corridor with closed doors on the left. John guessed that it had to lead back to the lobby at the top. It was completely empty, and there was no sound from anywhere. He slowly and silently made his way down and opened the first door. This was obviously the master bedroom, which was a mess, there was a large unmade bed and clothes scattered around the floor. At the far end on the right was an en-suite bathroom. Both rooms were completely empty. Leaving the door open he moved along the corridor and opened the next. This was a bathroom, apart from some towels thrown on the floor there was nothing to see here either. The next room was the first one which interested him. It was a much smaller bedroom, and it was also a mess. John checked the corridor again and closed the door. He turned on the lamp standing on the bedside cabinet and then stood in the middle of the room trying to make sense of it. There was a double bed against the far wall with the covers everywhere, he looked at it more closely and saw there was blood among the other stains present. He reached into his back pocket, put on the gloves and looked at the bedside table and the floor around the bed. There were squares of blackened foil and syringes lying around and two empty vodka bottles. Next to the door was a bloody handprint and the plasterboard was damaged around the frame. John kicked around broken glasses with the toe of his boot and saw more stains on the carpet and then opened the door and stepped back into the corridor. With the light from the bedroom lamp glowing he could see more clearly now. Ahead of him there were two more doors, one on the left and one on the right. He walked up to the end and tried the right door; as he had expected it was the one that opened to the lobby he had seen earlier. He left that door open and then turned and went back to the last door, which was standing not fully closed. He could see it was full dark in the room through the narrow gap. He prodded it further open with the Glock. With the light from the bedroom lamp and the lobby he could see that the room was in the middle of some construction, the walls were unfinished and it had a bare concrete floor. It looked roughly square and didn’t appear to have any windows. He was tempted to ignore it, but he still hadn’t found Abby and realised he needed to check it properly just in case so stepped down into the room, pushing the door fully open as he did so.
He took two steps across the floor and then felt the cold muzzle of a gun pressed firmly against the base of his skull. He froze, and the Glock was yanked from his hand, and then he felt like a truck had slammed into him. He was sent flying into the middle of the room, landing on his knees and falling onto his front. Trying to work out what had happened and instinctively defending himself he rolled over twice and then jumped to his feet facing the door. A bright light was suddenly snapped on and he blinked forcing his eyes into focus. Skinny was standing watching with a big grin on his face.
‘Not so tough now smart guy,’ he said slowly.
Now all the open doors downstairs made sense. He had walked straight into it. Idiot. He only had himself to blame; he had only been thinking of finding Abby. As a result he’d ignored all the warning signs, and there had been plenty of them.
He wondered how they had known he would be coming.
‘Thomas,’ he said aloud as the realisation dawned on him.
Skinny applauded sarcastically.
‘Right on! No loyalty to his Brit brother! That asshole was grassing on you the second you left the bar. And now you’re all mine to deal with. And I’m really going to enjoy this.’
Apart from the gun in his hand John wasn’t too worried about Skinny, but the other man in the room standing next to him was much more of a concern.
He was a giant, a freak of nature. Easily the biggest man John had ever seen, and not just his height which John calculated was even taller than Robert. He was wide too, and his thighs were bigger than John’s waist. He was wearing what appeared to be dungarees and a red shirt. John watched him warily; the man had sparse black hair under a filthy baseball cap and sunken piggy eyes. He had a ghostly complexion and was sweating and twitching, never still. Standing there his huge hands were at the same height as his knees. His fingers were studded with chunky rings that looked like wheel nuts.
So this is what had happened, this man had just pushed him. It was literally as if he had been run over. John stared at him stunned. Skinny did the introductions.
‘Oh yeah! You like this guy right? Mr Smith, this is Biscuits. Biscuits, meet Mr Smith. He’s kind of a pain in the ass.’
Biscuits took a step forward and without realising he was doing it John took one back.
Skinny moved and slammed the door shut, and then locked it putting the key in his jacket pocket. He looked at John triumphantly.
‘Hey John, can I call you John?’
‘Fine,’ John replied without taking his eyes off Biscuits and moving slowly to his right, attempting to stay in the centre of the room.
‘Well John, there’s good news and there’s bad news. What do you want first pal?’
‘I think I’ll take the good please Skinny.’
‘We ain’t gonna kill ya. Pablo wants to send you home so’s everyone can see what he did.’
‘Right. Very magnanimous of him, and the bad?’
‘Biscuits is really gonna hurt you. And I ain’t a bit sorry.’
John had to agree that was on the cards. He quickly took in his surroundings; the room was not that big and he could easily get trapped in a corner in which case it would be all over in seconds, Biscuits would pummel the life out of him. All he could do was try and keep out of the man’s immense reach. Skinny was hovering excitedly a few feet in front of the door holding the gun, behind him to one side there was a stack of cement bags and some lengths of timber and on the other side the light came from a builder’s lamp on a stand. It looked like the room was being fitted out as a sauna or maybe a gym.
Biscuits had a weird expression on his face like he was trying to smile. It was impossible to tell if he even knew where he was, his eyes were like black pinpricks in the massive face. He took two lumbering steps forward and began swinging his huge arms, John danced back but still felt the wind.
He was in real trouble here, and he had to try and think clearly. Normally John was good in a fight because he could always keep calm, and forever had a surprise up his sleeve. But that was no good in this situation; he could never get close enough to Biscuits to do him any real damage without being totally exposed. Even if he was able to time it right and get in between the mighty swings and land a punch he still wouldn’t be able to get free again safely. And he doubted one single blow would have that much effect, but there would be no time for a second. John kept himself very fit, and if it came down to it then he knew he would be able to outlast this freak but that meant doing it without getting hit, which was impossible. One good punch from one of those hands and it would be game over, it would only end one way and that meant badly for John.
He glanced at Skinny who was chuckling and waving the gun around. There had to be a way, had to be. He kept moving, circling from one side to the other, thinking hard, then it came to him. There was something he could do, at least try anyway. Without taking his eyes off Biscuits his brain went into overdrive
as he worked out how he could maybe turn this around, but it was going to be difficult. It was a long shot, but all he could think of. Go for it. No choice. No choice at all. He decided to take a dummy run first.
He took a deep breath and stood up to his full height, which was not much at all compared to Biscuits, and with exaggerated steps feinted right and then immediately darted to his left and ducked down. Biscuits moved to his left as expected and then when John moved he lurched and immediately swung his right; narrowly missing John who jumped back up again ending up in the same place he had started from.
So it was maybe possible, but difficult. Biscuits was uncoordinated in his movements, almost like a toddler. John started edging round to his right, keeping his distance and getting nervous of the wall which was now not far behind him. Biscuits turned with him and began to close in. John moved left and then ran straight at Biscuits keeping to his right and ducking down.
With a growl and a grunt Biscuits swung his left fist, which John ducked but Biscuits was twisting and he managed to grab John’s jacket and threw him back in a heap on the floor.
Skinny let out a loud cheer.
John got to his feet and moved back. He was getting dangerously close to the corner. He had only one shot left at this. He repeated the same movement, but this time rotating to his right, trying to line up but at the same time doing everything he could to distance himself from the corner, which was becoming increasingly difficult. This was it, all or nothing. He drew Biscuits in until it was nearly too late, then ran to his left, again ducking down, missing the huge right that was thrown. But again Biscuits recovered and twisted around, then lunged out with his left which caught John a glancing blow across his right eye. Glancing, but still enough to send John sliding over the floor on his front.
He ended up against the wall on his side, stunned and shaken and weakly trying to stand.
Skinny began whooping and hollering.
‘Woo-hoo! You finish that motherfucker Biscuits, pound him bad. Break every fucking bone!’