Tricks and Traps (Gray Spear Society Book 7)

by Siegel, Alex

  On the third hand, he received a king. He didn't have much else and eventually folded. Just before returning the cards to the dealer, he tucked the king up his sleeve. It was a move he had practiced ten thousand times during his longs shifts in the security booth. He could perform it effortlessly.

  The next deal gave him another king. He smoothly swapped the king in his sleeve for a jack in his hand. Now he was holding a high pair which was good enough to win a decent pot and put him fifty dollars ahead. Like taking candy from a baby, he thought.

  * * *

  Sheryl drove the car into the parking lot of the Pot of Gold Casino. She wasn't happy to be back. Aaron sat beside her in the passenger seat. He had still felt loopy when they had left headquarters, so she had taken the wheel.

  "They have valet parking," she said.

  "Don't use it," he said. "Always know where your car is."

  It was Tuesday afternoon, but the parking lot was almost full. Don't these people have jobs? Sheryl thought.

  She drove around the big casino. There were no girls in bikinis out front this time. Two guards in tan uniforms had taken their place, and they wore guns openly.

  Aaron directed her to a spot in back that had open space on all sides. He made her sit and watch her surroundings for a minute before she was allowed to expose herself.

  They finally stepped out into the hot summer air.

  "Leave it unlocked," he said.

  She gave him a curious look. "Why, sir?"

  "So we won't have to fumble with keys if we're running for our lives."

  She frowned. I had to ask.

  He was wearing loose blue jeans, a black pullover shirt, and a brown leather jacket. Mirrored sunglasses were a stylish touch. No doubt he had a small arsenal of weapons hidden under his clothes.

  He had demanded she also dress for a fight. She had chosen a baggy green dress which was ugly and too heavy for the warm weather. Instead of her usual heels, she was wearing white sneakers. Three guns and a knife were concealed on her body. She had never carried so many weapons at once, and the weight felt strange.

  Both of them also wore light Kevlar vests under their shirts. It was Sheryl's first time in body armor, and she didn't like it. The slick material trapped sweat and made her itch. It was hard to take deep breaths.

  "What's the plan, sir?" Sheryl said.

  "Find Jack and quietly stick a knife between his ribs," Aaron said.

  "You're not going to talk to him?"

  "Do I need to?"

  "You worked with him for years," she said.

  "This task will be dangerous enough. We'll be assassinating a traitor inside a heavily guarded installation. There's no reason to add extra drama. Ideally, he won't even see me coming."

  She knew he was right, but his explanation still left her cold. It wasn't how these things were done in the movies.

  The shadows on his face were darker than normal, and it wasn't a trick of the light. She would never get used to that effect. She was starting to grasp what the darkness meant. We live in the shadow of death, figuratively and literally. Tawni can even control the shadows.

  "You have two responsibilities," he said. "First, be the eyes in the back of my head. Second, cling to me like you love me."

  She raised her eyebrows. "Why, sir?"

  "Why do you think?"

  She paused to consider. "Because a man with a woman appears less suspicious than a man alone."

  "Correct, and which side will you stand on?"

  "Your left, so I don't block your shooting hand." She was proud of herself for figuring that out on her own.

  He smiled slightly. "You'll make a fine legionnaire. Ready?"

  "Not really, sir."

  "Let's go."

  They began the long walk around the casino.

  She was already sweating under her body armor. She shrugged in an attempt to make herself more comfortable. "This vest is the worst."

  "You'll get used to it," he said. "When I was a police officer, I wore a vest all day every day."

  "You were a cop?"

  "Chicago PD. I was a detective at the end."

  "Then you quit to join the Society?" she said.

  "No, I was fired. It was a low point in my life, but it taught me something. Just doing the right thing doesn't always produce the results you want. You have to be smart, too. The successful heroes are the guys who know how to beat the system. They live to fight again."

  "A hero never sacrifices his life, sir?"

  "It's better to make the enemy sacrifice his life instead." He grinned in an unpleasant manner.

  They eventually reached the front of the casino. They passed through giant golden doors and entered the first game room.

  The glaring lights and loud noises made Sheryl wince.

  "I hate this place," she muttered.

  "Not nearly as much as I do," Aaron replied. "I can feel it eating my soul. Let's get into character and start searching."

  She stood on his left and held his hand. His palm and knuckles had hard calluses which weren't pleasant to touch.

  They moved swiftly through the casino. Every room was annoying and bizarre in its own particular way. It was hard not to become disoriented. The gamblers were playing the games obsessively, oblivious to their environment. A few had urine stains on their pant legs.

  It took about twenty minutes to sweep the first floor. Aaron was walking so quickly Sheryl had to trot to keep up. She didn't complain though. She just wanted to finish this nasty business and get out of here.

  They walked up a broad staircase to the second floor. It was a little smaller than the first floor but even more labyrinthine. It took the same amount of time to determine Jack wasn't there.

  Aaron stopped and frowned.

  "You're sure he's here, sir?" Sheryl said.

  "Yes, unless the casino already kicked him out. That doesn't seem likely. I'm sure he brought plenty of money."

  "You have money in headquarters?"

  "It's in the closet in the back of the security booth," he said. "A million dollars in greenbacks and thirty bars of gold."

  The large amount didn't surprise her. That's petty cash for the Society, she thought.

  Aaron faced a narrow stairway leading to the third floor. A velvet rope blocked it, but the bigger problem was two beefy security guards in tan uniforms.

  "We have to go up."

  "I don't think they'll just let us through," Sheryl said.

  "There are several good strategies for situations like this. Generally, I like to use a distraction to draw the guards away. A small explosion will work."

  "You brought explosives, sir?"

  He nodded. "A packet of C-4. You never know when you might need to blow something up. In this case, I'm leaning away from the idea. There are a lot of security guards in this place. Agitating them will be counterproductive. I want a quieter approach."

  "I could talk to the guards."

  "Go ahead. Be very charming. If you find yourself in trouble, raise your left hand. That will be the signal for me to save your ass."

  "Yes, sir," Sheryl said.

  In a crazy way, she was starting to enjoy working with Aaron. He was always thinking ahead, and there was no obstacle he couldn't handle. He was truly a commander worthy of being followed.

  She approached the two guards. One had brown hair and the other was blond. Both men had thick beards.

  She smiled prettily. "Hi, guys! What's going on upstairs?"

  The guard with brown hair replied in a thick Russian accent, "The third floor is for VIPs and invited guests only."

  "Who do I screw to get invited?" She winked.

  "Please, move along, ma'am."

  "But it's boring down here. All the games are the same. Little balls rolling around little tracks and hitting little bells. I bet there are parties upstairs."

  "Not now," he said. "Just bigger and more expensive games."

  "What about the top floor?"

  "Management of
fices."

  Sheryl pouted. "I could go up if I had enough money?"

  "A lot of money. All the machines on the third floor take hundred dollar bills."

  She wondered how much revenue this casino was generating. The numbers had to be enormous.

  "Got it." She went back to Aaron and murmured, "If Jack is here, he's probably upstairs. That's where the high-rollers play. If we want to go up, we need to show them a pile of cash."

  "There is a cashier downstairs. I'll just charge it to my credit card."

  "I'm guessing your card has no limit."

  "Money is an illusion. It's all just perception of value and numbers in computers, and the twins control the computers." He paused. "At least they did."

  She patted his beefy arm. "I'm sure they'll be OK."

  "They'll be exactly what God wants them to be. Let's get some money." He looked at the games around them. "I'm extremely eager to finish up here."

  * * *

  The jangling of the monkey machines was making it hard for Jack to focus. The noise was entirely in his head, but it was still very distracting.

  He looked at the pile of poker chips in front of him. It had grown substantially since he had started playing. It was bad form to count chips at the table, but he estimated he was up four grand. With a combination of genuine skill and occasional cheating, he had steadily accumulated winnings. He wasn't done though. He wanted at least another five grand before he left the table and went back to the game room.

  He also needed to eat. He was getting weak with hunger. Food just hadn't been a priority lately.

  A big hand landed on his shoulder. He looked up at the scowling face of a security guard in a tan uniform. Two more guards stood behind him.

  "Can I help you?" Jack said.

  The guard grabbed his wrist and pulled a card out of his sleeve.

  "How did that get there?" Jack said innocently.

  "Stand up!"

  Jack stood. The guards patted him down and found one gun under his shirt and another strapped to his ankle. They also took his wallet. Jack was helpless to stop them. He didn't have the fighting skills of a legionnaire, and the three guards were big men. Even if Jack managed to defeat all three, escaping from the casino would be impossible.

  "Come with us."

  "What about my money?" Jack looked at his big pile of chips on the table.

  "It belongs to the casino now."

  Jack's arms were grabbed on both sides, and he was escorted to an elevator. The group went up to the top floor. This level had straight, well-lit corridors like a normal office building.

  The guards gave Jack a shove to get him moving.

  "Are you going to call the police?"

  "Not yet," a guard said.

  "Then what are you going to do with me?"

  Jack didn't get an answer.

  He was taken down the corridor to a small room. There was a table and two folding chairs inside. A stainless steel toilet with no seat stood in the corner. The guards pushed him into the room and closed the door.

  His side of the door had no handle. The only window was a small portal, and the thick glass was heavily reinforced with wire. Jack was in a holding cell.

  He sighed.

  He was now a prisoner without money or friends. There was nobody he could turn to for help. He would have to suffer with whatever punishment the casino decided to impose. The situation couldn't possibly get worse.

  Jack realized that wasn't true. When Aaron caught him, it would get worse.

  Much worse.

  * * *

  Sheryl was carrying the bag of money. Aaron had wanted his hands free, so the task had fallen to her.

  A hundred thousand dollars in cash weighed less than she had expected. It was just a few pounds of hundred dollar bills. It was hard to believe it was worth the same as a luxury car.

  They arrived at the velvet rope. When she showed the guards the contents of her paper bag, they immediately allowed her and Aaron to pass.

  One guard escorted them upstairs. They arrived at a large waiting area with plush chairs and couches. Blue paint covered the domed roof. The quiet was a huge relief to Sheryl.

  "Are you going to play together or separately?" the guard said. His thick Russian accent and military bearing marked him as one of the mercenaries.

  "Mind if we just look around first?" Aaron said. "I want to see my choices."

  "I can't allow you to bother the other gamblers, sir. The rooms are for private use."

  "Why? What are they doing in there?"

  "Whatever they want," the guard said. "Will you need one room or two?"

  "One will be fine. Just make sure it's a good one."

  "Of course."

  Aaron and Sheryl followed the guard down a corridor painted a tacky gold color. They were shown to one of the rooms and went inside. The guard closed the door behind them.

  Sheryl gasped in surprise. Glass walls created an enclosure in the middle of the room, and she and Aaron were inside the enclosure. The game was all around them outside the protective glass. Hundreds of metal tracks were arranged to form a very intricate, three-dimensional maze. Loops, jumps, springs, and holes created even more bewildering complexity.

  The control system was a mass of steel levers and buttons. Cables connected the controls to flippers and tilters on the other side of the glass. Nothing was labeled. It seemed a big part of the game was just figuring out the game.

  "We're actually inside a monkey machine," Sheryl said.

  Aaron nodded. "I guess that makes the experience more immersive. The workmanship is amazing."

  She traced the maze of tracks with her eyes. The course formed a series of interlocking challenges of increasing difficulty.

  "I think I'm starting to understand these machines a little. It's a puzzle blended with a slot machine mixed with a carnival game."

  "Don't think about it too much," he said. "We already lost Jack. I don't want your mind getting infected, too."

  "I'm not a gambler, sir."

  "I bet three quarters of the people in this casino would say the same thing. Just be careful. God's enemies play dirty."

  "Why do you think they're involved?" she said.

  "I recognize the pattern. They want to turn people into hopeless slaves. That's exactly what these machines do."

  "But why? What's their ultimate goal?"

  "Let's have this conversation later," Aaron said.

  He went to the door and cracked it open. He peeked into the hallway for a long moment. Sheryl stood near him.

  "It's clear," he whispered. "We have to move fast. It won't take long for security to chase us down. Surveillance cameras are everywhere."

  Sheryl grabbed the bag of money. They went into the hallway. He directed her to check the rooms on the left while he checked the right side.

  She opened the first door. This room was similar to the one she had just left. A woman on the floor was curled up in a fetal position. She was sobbing. Sheryl closed the door in horror.

  She went to the next room. In this one, a man was pounding on the controls frantically as he played the game. Now she understood why the levers were made of thick steel. Blood was dripping from a gash on his right hand, but apparently, he didn't care. The game was the only thing that mattered. The stupid grin on his face made her queasy.

  It's not Jack, Sheryl thought. Move on.

  The next room had a man masturbating on the floor.

  "Sorry." She quickly closed the door.

  She and Aaron had checked half the rooms in the corridor when security showed up. Four guards came running. Aaron turned towards them.

  "Sir!" one guard yelled. "Stop that!"

  "We're just looking for a friend," Aaron said in a confident tone.

  "Go back downstairs. You can't stay up here anymore."

  "But..."

  "Immediately," the guard said. "Both of you!"

  His three buddies gathered around Aaron menacingly.

  He sh
rugged. "Sure."

  He and Sheryl were escorted back to the second floor. The noise from the machines was like a drill bit in her ear after the quiet upstairs.

  "What now, sir?"

  "We'll have to wait for Jack to make an appearance," Aaron said.

  "Can't we just go home and chase him tomorrow?"

  He shook his head. "He knows far too much about the Society and our team. In his current mental state, I can't trust him to keep those secrets. We have to neutralize that threat quickly."

  Sheryl sighed with disappointment. "Yes, sir."

  "But standing in the open like a couple of dummies isn't an option either. We have to blend in." He looked around. "Let's find a game to play."

  "You're not actually going to play, are you?"

  "No," he said. "That would be stupidly dangerous. I'll just pretend while you stay with me and watch for Jack."

  They found an open machine within sight of the stairway to the third floor. The glass front was tall and narrow. A series of vertical flippers allowed the player to move a ball from the bottom to the top, but there were many obstacles in the way. A silver bell seemed to be the goal. A digital display showed the current number of credits, but otherwise, the mechanical construction was old-fashioned and quaint.

  Aaron reached down to insert money into the slot, but he palmed the bill at the last instant. It was a slick little move. He messed with the inert controls as if he were actually playing.

  "Pretend like you love me," he murmured.

  Sheryl put her arm around his waist.

  "You can do better than that."

  She clung to him and smiled warmly. She had never touched a man who was so big and muscular, and it made her feel like a little girl in comparison. She got up on her toes and kissed his cheek. Rough stubble irritated her lips.

  "Good enough, sir?"

  "Yes," he said. "Keep it up while you watch for Jack."

  She gazed at the velvet rope. "I'm glad Marina can't see me."

  "She would understand."

  "She mentioned she worked for the CIA," Sheryl said. "Was she a real spy?"

  Aaron nodded. "She was stationed in Eastern Europe. She gathered information about the black market in weapons, and occasionally performed assassinations."

  "Wow. That's hardcore."