by Siegel, Alex
"We should give it a name," Tonya said. "All unique artifacts need a name. Something dark. How about the Raven?"
Charley nodded. "I like it."
"You have the item," a soldier said, "now go, please." He sounded afraid.
"Sure," Andrew said.
He left the truck, holding the Raven tightly against his chest. He made sure not to trip on the stairs.
His teammates followed, and everybody sat in the car.
"I'll let you hold it," Tonya said, "but you have to promise you'll be mature and responsible. A portable seam isn't a toy. Don't force me to take it away."
"I won't," Andrew said.
Tungsten started the car. "Onwards to Mama Dona's," he announced as he drove off.
"How did that guy know you?"
"I was something of a legend at Mumford. When a soldier needed to eat a slice of humble pie, they called me, but I don't want to brag. Let's just have some peace and quiet."
Andrew turned to Charley, and she shrugged.
* * *
Andrew sighed with boredom. If he had known the drive to Mama Dona's would be so long, he would've suggested the team try another destination instead. Apparently, prostitution was illegal in Clark County which contained Las Vegas. To reach any legal brothels, one had to leave the county.
The barren landscape hadn't made the trip any quicker. Southern Nevada was an endless wasteland of sand and dry brush. Distant mountains broke up the horizon, but Andrew didn't see any green on them either. Getting lost in the desert would be a death sentence. He didn't understand why anybody would want to live in such a desolate place, but he had grown up in verdant farmland.
"Why would a hitman choose a legal brothel?" Andrew said. "I'm sure tons of prostitutes work in Las Vegas."
"The brothels are safer," Tungsten said. "The girls have to get checked for diseases, and there is no chance of getting busted. They have the finest amenities. The top brothels attract the top talent. Discerning clients prefer them."
"Have you ever used one?"
"Sure, but you'll have to get me drunk to hear about it."
Finally, the car arrived at its destination. Several low, wide buildings made of wood and stucco connected to form a single aggregate structure. The exterior was a shocking pink. Painted black silhouettes of naked women hinted at the activities inside. The windows were small and covered with red gels.
"Do I have to go in?" Charley said.
"Of course," Tonya said. "You're part of this investigation."
"But..."
"It's not like naked women will be having sex in the hallways, at least I don't think so."
Everybody got out of the car and went inside the building. The reception area had a full bar staffed by a bartender in a spiffy black and white uniform. A small platform with a brass pole stood in the middle of the room, but nobody was using it. Small tables provided places for clients and girls to get acquainted.
Aside from the bartender, only two women were in the room. They wore lingerie which barely covered their private parts. They were older and fatter than Andrew expected. In movies and books, brothels were staffed with stunningly beautiful young women. Apparently, the real world wasn't as glamorous.
Tungsten hardly glanced at the women. He went to the bartender and said, "We need to see Mama Dona."
"She's asleep," the bartender said.
Tungsten showed his federal badge. "Wake her up."
The bartender walked off.
Andrew was holding the Raven, and he loved having so much power literally in his hand. The energy lubricated his mind. His awareness extended beyond the boundaries of his skull creating almost an out-of-body experience.
He looked at one of the prostitutes, and without effort, he touched her mind. She was judging Tungsten as a potential client.
"Andrew," Tonya said sternly, "mature and responsible. Remember? Get your dirty mind out of her dirty mind."
Charley also gave Andrew a sharp look.
His face grew warm, and he withdrew.
The bartender returned with an older woman wearing a bathrobe, presumably Mama Dona. Her hair was cut very short, and Andrew guessed she normally wore a wig. Makeup on her face was a little smeared. Her bathrobe was printed with flowers that had vaguely erotic shapes.
"We're fully licensed and paid up," she said. "No drugs or underage clients." She glanced at Andrew.
"I'm sure," Tungsten said. "We came here to talk about a client. He purchased services at this establishment five nights ago. I don't have his real name, but I have his picture on my phone."
He messed with his phone until he found the right picture. He showed it to Dona.
She crossed her arms. "Client information is confidential. Do you have a search warrant or a subpoena?"
Tonya glanced at Andrew and nodded once. He entered Dona's mind.
It was a murky land of ugly memories and emotional scars. She had become a prostitute at a young age and had suffered brutal exploitation. Climbing out of that cesspool to her current position of semi-legitimacy had taken extraordinary effort.
Andrew gave Dona a new belief. Tungsten was her ally and friend, and she would do anything for him without hesitation. She resisted the alien thought at first, but Andrew swept aside her mental defenses like they were just spider webs.
Her stance softened. "You look like a nice guy," she told Tungsten. "Let's go to my office. I might have something for you."
The team followed Dona through the brothel to a private office. Bills were stacked on the desk like any regular business. The cheap furniture was made of laminated wood. The only peculiar item was a desk lamp made to look like a naked girl.
"Do you have a transaction number or something?" she said.
Andrew pulled out the sheet listing the hitman's credit card transactions. He read a number and a specific time to her. Dona used an old computer on her desk to lookup the information.
"I found it," she said. "Two bottles of Champaign, a full body massage, and three hours with Bambi."
"I need to talk to Bambi," Tungsten said.
"I'll get her." Dona left the office.
Andrew looked at Tungsten. "Do the girls live here?"
Tungsten shrugged.
A few minutes later, Dona returned with a younger woman in tow. Bambi was wearing purple pajamas with fuzzy hems. She had light brown skin, but the shape of her face suggested Asian heritage mixed with something else. She had bloodshot eyes and sagging cheeks.
Tungsten showed her the picture of the hitman. "We're looking for information about this man. You had sex with him five nights ago."
"I have sex with lots of guys," Bambi said. "I never talk about them."
"This one is a killer."
She clenched her jaw stubbornly. Andrew went into her mind to change her attitude. He discovered she had run away from home as a teenager to escape an abusive mother. Prostitution was her only useful skill, but she hated the job. He implanted the belief that Tungsten was her ticket to a better life.
Bambi relaxed. "He's a regular customer. Whenever he's in town, he always comes by and asks for me."
Tungsten winked knowingly at Andrew.
"What's his name?" Tungsten said.
"Rocco. I don't know his last name, but he has Mafia connections. He always brags about how he's a made man and can get away with anything. Did something happen to him?"
"He was unmade. Who are his connections? Where can we go for more information?"
Bambi rubbed her eyes. "Rocco did some work for Green Grass Recycling. It's a local front for the mob."
"He told you that?" Tungsten said.
"I heard him talking on the phone, and I saw his business cards."
He nodded. "Thanks for your help. We'll go now."
Andrew decided he needed to do one last thing before they left. He reached into Bambi's mind again and gave her a belief in herself. She could turn her life around if she tried. She just needed to save some money and go back to school. She
didn't have to be a whore forever.
Tungsten led the sorcerers back outside. Andrew was smiling with satisfaction.
As soon as they were alone, Tonya tore the Raven out of Andrew's hand.
"What's wrong?" he said.
"You tell me!" she replied angrily.
"Are you mad because of that little thing with Bambi?"
"You think?" She glared at him. "Walk with me."
They moved away from the others until they could talk privately.
"She is so unhappy," Andrew said in a low voice. "I gave her life a push in the right direction."
"You played God with that woman!" Tonya said harshly.
"I just tweaked her attitude a little. I gave her a more positive outlook."
Her eyes widened. "You made her a different person! You had no right. You can't go around fixing people who don't meet your standard of happiness and productive citizenship. You can't monkey with people's brains like you're tuning a radio."
"It seemed like the right thing," Andrew said weakly.
"It wasn't! You can have this back when I decide you can handle it." She held up the Raven.
"But if you knew, then you were in my head."
"That's my job as your instructor," Tonya said. "Let's go."
They returned to Tungsten and Charley.
"Did I miss something?" Tungsten said.
"Yeah," Tonya said. "You missed Andrew making an immature ass of himself. It's a good thing Director Webster had the foresight to include me in the mission." She exhaled loudly. "Let's go. I'm done talking about this."
* * *
Tungsten parked the car in front of Green Grass Recycling. Andrew could smell the garbage even with the windows closed.
A high wall made of rusty sheet metal surrounded the plant. Andrew saw only the tops of big, yellow machines and cranes. Black smoke rose up from several locations. He heard a grinding noise which sounded like rocks in a garbage disposal.
"Why a recycling plant?" Andrew said.
"People pay dearly to get rid of their garbage," Tungsten said, "and they don't care where it goes. It's the perfect business for organized crime."
"But this place recycles."
"Do you really know that? Don't be fooled by the name."
The team got out of the car. Andrew tried to breathe through his mouth to avoid the stench of rotting food.
He looked at the Raven in Tonya's hand.
"Can I have that back?" Andrew said timidly.
"Not a chance." She shook her head. "Watch how a responsible sorcerer handles her business and try to learn something."
His shoulders sagged with disappointment.
They entered the plant through a front door and walked into a small office. A receptionist was playing with her phone, and she hardly glanced at the visitors. She was chewing gum loudly. Her slinky black dress looked ridiculous on a woman with her plump figure.
"We need to speak with whoever is in charge," Tungsten said.
"Who are you?" the receptionist replied with her eyes still on her phone.
"Environmental Protection Agency. We're here to investigate severe violations of toxic waste disposal regulations."
Suddenly, she was paying attention. She put her phone down and gave him a nervous smile.
"Green Grass just passed an inspection," she said. "We're fully compliant."
"Not according to my information. Who do I talk to?"
She pointed at a door. "Mr. Todaro is in there."
Tungsten opened the door without knocking and went through. The sorcerers followed.
They entered a small, cluttered office which stank of cigar smoke. Todaro was a hugely obese man with three chins. He was flushed and sweating even though the air wasn't very warm. Glasses sat on the end of his thick nose. A Hawaiian shirt barely fit around his midsection.
Piles of paperwork were stacked everywhere, even on the floor along the walls. An impressive collection of half-full liquor bottles stood on top of a filing cabinet. A line of shot glasses needed to be washed out.
"What is this?" Todaro said.
"Tell me about Rocco," Tungsten said.
"Who?"
Tungsten took out his phone and showed the picture of the hitman to Todaro.
"I don't recognize him." The fat man shrugged.
Andrew sensed Tonya's power swelling. He used his own abilities to sneak a peek at what she was doing. She touched Todaro's mind, lingered for just a moment, and then pulled back. She obviously didn't spend enough time inside his skull to get a good look around. She respected his privacy.
"Wait," Todaro said, "maybe I do. Rocco Graviano. He's an enforcer who lives in Washington, DC, but he comes to Vegas to party. Sometimes he does special jobs for me."
"Who is his boss?" Tungsten said.
Todaro resisted answering the question. Tonya gave his mind another nudge.
"You want his Capo in Washington," Todaro said, "or the boss here?"
"The boss here would probably be the one," Tungsten said.
"Mr. Panetta is the Don. All orders come down from him. He practically owns Las Vegas."
"Where can I find Mr. Panetta?"
"At his law office," Todaro said. "Panetta & Associates."
"He is a lawyer?"
"One of the best, but expensive. Very expensive."
"Thank you for your help," Tungsten said.
Tonya stepped forward and said, "Forget this conversation. You never saw us."
Andrew sensed her power surge as she gave the command.
Todaro nodded dumbly.
Tungsten and the sorcerers left the recycling plant quickly. As soon as everybody was in the car, Tungsten drove off. Andrew couldn't wait to breathe clean air again.
"You see?" Tonya said. "That's how it's done."
"I get it," Andrew said. "Can I have the Raven back?" He stared at the black statuette longingly.
"No."
He sagged.
"This is almost too easy," Tungsten said. "It feels like cheating."
"It is cheating," Tonya said.
"If you say so. Our next stop is Mr. Panetta. We're finally getting somewhere."
* * *
Tungsten parked the car in front of a brown, two-story office building. Andrew looked out the window at the nondescript structure. The narrow windows were so deeply tinted, they looked black. The only sign was a small, black and white placard above the door which read, "Panetta & Associates."
"Check out the security," Tungsten said.
Andrew looked around. Men in black suits and sunglasses guarded every approach to the building. Andrew had been taught to recognize gun bulges, and he saw plenty. The guards had radio earpieces like Secret Service agents.
The cars in the parking lot were another clue something fishy was going on. Andrew saw a silver Maserati that had to cost at least a hundred grand. An Aston Martin looked like an alien spaceship had landed in the lot. A Rolls Royce had gold-plated hubcaps and a golden grill.
"We found the mob boss," Tungsten said.
"They won't just let us walk into Panetta's office," Andrew said. "We don't even have an appointment, and if they pat us down, they'll find our guns."
"I'm certainly not going in there without a weapon."
Everybody had at least one gun hidden under their clothes. Tungsten had brought a full arsenal of weaponry from Washington in his luggage. As usual, he was prepared for war. When airport security had questioned him, his federal badge had been the answer.
Andrew didn't want to give up his gun either. Sorcery couldn't fix every problem. He liked having other options in a world where dead bodies were becoming commonplace.
The solution seemed obvious to him. He looked expectantly at Tonya for her to reach the same conclusion.
She sighed. "OK. We'll have to use a lot of mind-control to get to Panetta safely. It goes without saying that we won't tell anybody else what happened here, Webster in particular. Move quickly."
"There is no other way?
" Charley said.
"I'm open to suggestions."
Andrew looked at Charley. She had a pained expression but kept her mouth closed. She practically worshipped Tonya, and he wondered what Charley thought of her hero now.
"Let's get this over with," Tonya said in a bitter tone.
Everybody got out of the car. The many guards watched the newcomers closely.
Andrew tried to appear confident and relaxed as the team went to the front door, but his heart was fluttering. Tonya was clutching the Raven tightly in both hands, and Charley was hunched over anxiously. Only Tungsten had a bold stride.
Two particularly large men were blocking the front door of the building.
Tonya walked up to them and said, "Mr. Panetta is expecting us." She used the power of the seam to make her words impossible to resist.
The guards immediately stepped out of the way, and the team went inside.
"For somebody who thinks mind-control is illegal and immoral," Andrew whispered, "you're pretty good at it."
"Natural talent," Tonya replied. "It's a shameful admission."
The lobby had a plush brown carpet which matched the fine wood paneling on the walls. The room was so large, Andrew wondered if his voice would echo.
The team walked up to a receptionist with silky black hair. She had the skinny body and sculpted face of a fashion model.
"Mr. Panetta demanded we come to his office right away," Tonya said.
The receptionist began to type on her computer.
"Now!" Tonya said.
The single word had so much power behind it, even Andrew felt the effect.
The receptionist jumped out of her seat. "This way."
She led Tungsten and the three sorcerers through a large legal office. Men and women in nice suits were staring at documents on computers. Handsomely bound books filled libraries. It certainly appeared plenty of legitimate work was happening. A legal office is a good front for the mob, Andrew thought.
The group arrived at an inner reception area just as impressive as the first. A gorgeous blonde receptionist was sitting behind a glass desk. Four guards stood in the four corners of the room, and two more blocked the door leading to the next room.
The blonde receptionist looked up with an expression of concern on her pretty face. "Who are you? Mr. Panetta is in a meeting. He doesn't have another appointment. How did you get in here?"