Tricks and Traps (Gray Spear Society Book 7)

by Siegel, Alex

  Before leaving the booth, he checked Nancy. Her pulse was slow but steady. She was definitely asleep. With nobody at the weapons controls, he could leave headquarters safely.

  Now he had to find some clothes. He couldn't go to the casino wearing a bathrobe.

  Chapter Sixteen

  An hour later, Jack drove into the parking lot of the Pot of Gold Casino. The big sign in front was gone, and he wondered how that had happened. Maybe it was being replaced by an even bigger one.

  The casino had added valet parking. He drove straight to the front door and handed his keys to the attendant. It was early in the afternoon and not as busy as last night, but the parking lot was still almost full.

  When he stepped inside, the sounds of the machines washed over him. It was a welcome relief. He was back where he needed to be.

  Not everything was good though. Jack had left his phone behind so he couldn't be tracked, but Aaron would know Jack had come to the Pot of Gold. As soon as Aaron woke up, he would come looking with two fistfuls of God's wrath. Jack desperately needed to avoid that deadly confrontation.

  He tried to ignore the distractions all around as he made his way through the casino. The interior was a maze of irregular caves and passages. Brightly colored lights and blaring sounds added to the disorientation. There were no signs. The color scheme was startling. It was a place designed to trap gamblers in a surreal world until they ran out of money and were shown the door.

  Eventually, Jack found what he was looking for. A red velvet rope blocked a stairway leading from the second to the third floor. Two large men in tan security uniforms stood in front of the rope.

  Jack walked up to them. "I'd like a private game. I want a room to myself."

  One of the guards gave him a dubious look. He had a bushy, black beard and a scar over his left eye. He looked a little like a classic pirate.

  "I'm sorry, sir. The private rooms are for VIPs only," he replied in a heavy Russian accent.

  Jack was carrying a gray nylon gym bag. He unzipped it and showed it was full of stacks of hundred dollar bills.

  "Am I a VIP now?"

  "Yes, sir," the guard said. "Follow me."

  The velvet rope was unclipped, and they went upstairs to the third floor. The first thing Jack noticed was the quiet. The jingle jangle of the machines had been left below.

  The central room had a domed ceiling painted dark blue. Couches and chairs were arranged to create a large waiting area. Straight corridors branched off in several directions.

  Four men were sitting around a table in the corner. They were holding cards and pushing chips.

  "Is that poker?" Jack said.

  "We usually have a table going," the guard said. "The casino staff likes to play, but it's open to everybody, I suppose."

  "Why don't you use the monkey machines like everybody else?"

  The guard's face showed utter contempt. "Follow me, sir."

  They went down one of the corridors. Golden paint gleamed in soft light. Jack heard bells ringing behind the walls.

  The guard opened a door. "After you."

  Jack stepped into a room the size of a large bedroom. Tracks, tubes, ramps, and bells covered the walls. Thick glass barriers protected the delicate machinery from being touched. There was no way to cheat.

  "It's an inside-out monkey machine!" Jack said in a delighted tone. He was actually inside the machine.

  "Yes, sir. The money goes in the control console."

  Jack walked up to a complex hunk of machinery in the center of the room. It had more buttons, knobs, and levers than an old-fashioned pipe organ. All the parts were made of steel and looked capable of withstanding a lot of abuse.

  There was a slot underneath for accepting money. It was marked "$100 only." He took a bill out of his gym bag and inserted it into the slot.

  The machine came to life all at once. Balls were launched onto tracks from several locations, surrounding him with exciting activity. He felt an immediate thrill. Hesitantly, he pressed a control lever. A flipper on his left popped.

  This could take a while to figure out, he realized. Good thing I brought plenty of money.

  The guard said, "Enjoy, sir." He stepped out and closed the door.

  * * *

  Tawni looked out the windshield of the police car. They were driving into the parking lot of Jim Bob's Barbeque Ribs. The restaurant was painted to look like ancient weathered wood, but the surface was actually just stucco. The only real wood was an awning over the front door, and it looked new.

  Norbert was at the wheel. He drove around the restaurant and found a secluded spot in the back. After checking carefully in all directions, he parked.

  Everybody got out. Norbert opened the door for Ford so he could escape from the back seat.

  A blazing sun made Tawni sweat in her police uniform. Ford looked even more uncomfortable, and it wasn't the heat in his case. He was about to have the meeting of his life.

  Norbert opened the trunk of the car. He took out a small, steel case and walked over to Ford.

  "Is that the bug?" Ford said.

  Norbert nodded. He opened the case to reveal several small gadgets. He took one shaped like a pin with a black knob on top. He stuck it into the lapel of Ford's suit in a place where it couldn't be seen.

  Norbert took out an earpiece and slipped it over his ear. He gave another earpiece to Tawni.

  "Talk normally," he said.

  "One... two... three...," Ford said.

  Tawni heard his voice echoed in her ear.

  "It's working," she said.

  "The range is short," Norbert said, "so we'll be in the restaurant with you."

  "Won't that look suspicious?" Ford said.

  "Cops eat lunch, too. We'll go first and find a table on the other side of the room. Wait a few minutes, then come in. I don't have to tell you that running away would be a bad idea. You wouldn't get far."

  Ford frowned.

  Tawni looked around to make sure nobody was watching. She spotted the Pot of Gold Casino a quarter-mile away. The golden walls shimmered in the haze.

  "Hey," she said, "the casino is right there. That must be why Cantrell picked this restaurant."

  Ford peered at it. "Cantrell owns that?"

  "It just opened."

  "Where the hell is he getting that kind of money?"

  "Maybe he'll tell you," Tawni said.

  "Focus on the Indian Head project," Norbert said. "I bet that's where all this began."

  "All what?" Ford said.

  "Just do your job. We're going."

  Norbert and Tawni walked around the restaurant. After spending hours in the same costume, she was finally getting into the proper cop mindset. The police were arrogant, but they also had real responsibilities and faced real risks. It was a tough mix to get right.

  Norbert held the door for Tawni. She wasn't used to such chivalry and smiled at him.

  The interior of the restaurant was dimly lit. The aroma of barbeque made Tawni's mouth water.

  Cantrell was sitting in the darkest corner with two bodyguards standing nearby. He looked at Norbert and Tawni as they entered but didn't show concern.

  Norbert brushed by a waitress and went to the opposite corner of the restaurant. Tawni followed. They sat with their backs to the wall.

  She studied Cantrell while trying not to be obvious about it. He had a perfect nose and a strong jaw. His brown hair was straight and neatly trimmed. He had a face that could turn a girl's head.

  Norbert sighed.

  "What's wrong?" Tawni whispered.

  "I'm worried about the twins."

  "They're in God's hands."

  "Those hands aren't always nice," Norbert said. "I've seen how they can destroy."

  "What's the worst that can happen?"

  "Bethany and Leanna could be turned into walking, emotionless computers or aliens."

  "That's no different than before." Tawni smiled to defuse the tension.

  He shook his head
. "Not funny. They're very sweet young women. I'll grant they have quirks, but underneath, they still want to be loved. They still crave friendship and affection. That could be gone now. They may not even recognize me."

  She looked down. "I'm sorry."

  "All we can do is wait and see."

  The waitress gave them menus. Tawni immediately picked out a full rib platter as her choice. Ever since Aaron had started training her, she had been hungry all the time. She burned a huge amount of energy in those long sessions with him. She could eat as much as she wanted and still not gain an ounce. If anything, she was getting leaner.

  Ford entered the restaurant. He looked around, spotted Cantrell, and waved his hand. Ford hustled over to Cantrell's table.

  "Hey!" Ford said. "It's great to see you again. It's been too long." His voice came through Tawni's earpiece perfectly.

  "Yeah," Cantrell said. His voice was a little muffled but still understandable.

  The bodyguards immediately patted down Ford. They reached under his shirt and felt around.

  "What's this? You don't trust me?"

  "A man has to take precautions," Cantrell said. "It's a dangerous world, as you well know."

  The bodyguards backed away and gave the thumbs up.

  Ford sat at the table. A beer was already waiting for him, and he took a long pull on it.

  "What was your meeting about?" Cantrell said. "When did the CIA start conducting business in Illinois?"

  "We were talking about security for the Democratic National Convention in the fall," Ford said.

  "Oh, right. That's in Chicago this time."

  "It's a big deal. President Haley will be in town. A lot of federal agencies are involved. The Secret Service is cracking the whip to get everybody organized. Somehow, I became the CIA representative, at least for this week. But I'm not here to talk about my dull life. What's up with you? Are you still selling slot machines?"

  Cantrell nodded. "It's a great business. Gambling is recession proof."

  "It must be really great if you need bodyguards."

  "You know me, Mr. Paranoid."

  "That's true." Ford smiled.

  "Speaking of which, I had more trouble yesterday. You still haven't heard anything at your end?"

  "No. What kind of trouble?"

  Cantrell sipped from a glass of water. He wasn't drinking beer. "All I know is somebody is riding up my tailpipe pretty fucking hard."

  "Why would anybody harass a slot machine salesman?"

  "My interests have expanded."

  "Oh?" Ford said. "How?"

  His acting skills were impressing Tawni. He projected innocence and confidence perfectly.

  "That's not important," Cantrell said. "What matters is I have money, which I'm willing to share with my good friends. If you help me out, I'll certainly consider you a very good friend."

  Ford hesitated. Tawni could tell he was contemplating his allegiances. She quietly put her hand on the gun in her holster. One of the benefits of dressing as a cop was she could carry a weapon openly. Norbert grew more alert and tense.

  "I'll continue to make inquiries," Ford said. "It would help if you gave me more details."

  "Sorry," Cantrell replied. "I can't do that."

  "I'm a little surprised though. You always seemed like the kind of guy who could take care of his own business."

  "I will," Cantrell said. "I just need a little assistance this time."

  "You've certainly led an interesting life. Five years as a spy in Russia. The Indian Head mess. Now this business, whatever it is. Do you ever wish you were still with the CIA?"

  "Getting fired was the best thing that ever happened to me. It forced me to stand on my own feet, to follow my own vision. I was glad to put the agency in my rear view mirror."

  "You must have mixed feelings," Ford said. "The CIA trained you. They gave you a real job. You were just a two-bit hustler before you became a spy."

  Cantrell smiled a little. "Three bits, at least. For me, the real education was Indian Head. That project opened my eyes. That's where I learned power isn't just money. It's control over other people. It's holding their souls in your hand and squeezing." He made a tight fist.

  "You're being a little dramatic."

  "Maybe."

  "Do you stay in touch with anybody from that project?" Ford drank some beer. "You worked together for so long. You must've made some lasting friendships."

  Cantrell shook his head. "No. They were a bunch of boring science geeks. I was the only one who really grasped the implications of the research. I saw the meaning behind the math. I guess that's not completely true. There was one other guy who got it."

  "Who was that? Did I meet him?"

  "Dr. Vidal Santiago. I called him the mad scientist. His insights kick-started the whole initiative and pushed it in the right direction. A truly inspired man. I wish I knew where he was these days. I'd love to hire him. If you run him down for me, I'll be grateful."

  Norbert took out a notepad and wrote "Vidal Santiago." He underlined the words.

  "I'll try," Ford said. "Hold on. Don't tell me you're still interested in that research. If the CIA found out..."

  "They won't, right?" Cantrell said.

  "Right."

  The waitress came by and took Tawni and Norbert's order. Tawni didn't appreciate the distraction but tried to be gracious. Norbert ordered just a hamburger.

  The conversation between Ford and Cantrell switched to reminiscing about their days together in Russia. This topic was fun but irrelevant. Tawni waited impatiently for Ford to steer the discussion back to Indian Head.

  At one point, Cantrell confirmed he had met the Shkotovo Company while stationed in Russia. His bodyguards were mercenaries.

  The meeting dragged on. The only good part was Tawni got a chance to eat. The ribs were cooked to perfection, and she happily filled her belly.

  Finally, Ford said, "I really wish you'd tell me more about what's going on. It seems serious. I want to help you."

  "Sorry," Cantrell said. "Maybe if you prove yourself useful to me, I'll let you into my inner circle."

  "You're making me nervous. I have a wife and kids. I can't go to prison."

  "I guarantee I'm out of the espionage game. You have nothing to worry about. My last foreign contact was a call to customer support in India. These days, I'm just a businessman, and business is good. I have to get back to work. It was great seeing you again."

  Cantrell stood and left the restaurant. His bodyguards followed close behind. On the way out, he glanced at Tawni and Norbert. She looked back at him confidently like a real cop would.

  When Cantrell was long gone, Ford came over to sit with Tawni and Norbert.

  "Satisfied?" Ford said.

  "Not really," Norbert said. "You got one name out of him."

  "I learned that Indian Head isn't as dead as I thought."

  "You seem worried."

  "There is a reason the CIA killed that project," Ford said. "It was bad news."

  "Did it involve mind control and addictive behavior?"

  "That was the rumor. How did you know?"

  Norbert smiled. "If you want to see the end result of that research, visit Cantrell's new casino. Don't play the games though. You might never stop."

  "Are you serious?" Ford raised his eyebrows.

  "Go wait by the car. We have to make a phone call."

  "I thought I was done."

  "You are," Norbert said, "but we'll give you a ride back to the airport. We're headed in that direction anyway."

  Ford left.

  Norbert took out his phone and dialed a number.

  "You're calling Aaron?" Tawni said.

  He nodded.

  She heard it ringing, but Aaron didn't answer. She frowned. He always carried his phone and answered calls immediately. He prided himself on never letting it ring more than twice.

  Tawni grabbed her own phone and called Smythe. He also didn't answer.

  She and Norbert exch
anged alarmed looks.

  They tried calling everybody on the team, but Kamal was the only person who responded.

  "Something is wrong," Tawni said urgently. "Nobody is answering their phones. Where are you?"

  "At home," Kamal said. "I was asleep."

  "You don't know what's going on?"

  "Everything was fine when I left headquarters, but that was hours ago."

  "Shit!" she yelled.

  Norbert and Tawni ran out of the restaurant. They circled around to the police car in back where Ford was waiting.

  Norbert opened the back door, pulled Ford's belongings out, and tossed them on the ground.

  "Hey!" Ford said.

  "Find your own ride!"

  Norbert and Tawni got in the car. He turned on the sirens and drove off at high speed.

  The trip back to headquarters was fast. He kept the accelerator floored the entire time they were on the highway. He weaved around any cars that got in his way. Tawni had never been in a car travelling so recklessly, and it was frightening. Norbert was on a mission, and nothing was going to slow him down.

  They squealed around the last few turns and arrived at the Rosemont Tower Hotel. She looked up at the top story but didn't see anything obviously wrong. There was no unusual activity around the hotel. If anything, it was a quiet day.

  Norbert parked directly in front and killed the sirens. He and Tawni ran through the lobby to the special conference room. It was the quickest way up.

  They waved to the hidden cameras in the small room. They waited for it to rise, but nothing happened. The secret lift had to be activated from the security booth upstairs.

  "Damn it!" Norbert said. "The booth must be empty. We can't use the basement elevator either. We're stuck down here!"

  Fear tightened Tawni's throat. "There must be somebody we can call."

  "Marina. I still have her number in my phone from the old days."

  He took out his phone and dialed. He turned on the speaker.

  Marina answered quickly, "Norbert? Why are you calling me?"

  "We're in big trouble. Most of the team has gone silent. We can't reach them."

  "Who, specifically?"

  "The only people left are me, Tawni, and Kamal," Norbert said.

  She paused. "Where are you?" Her tone was all business.

  "On the ground floor of the hotel. Nobody in headquarters is answering their phones."