***
“What the hell was that about?” Alex said with a shocked look on his face. He barely had time to comprehend what happened before it was over. He silently cursed to himself. It sure did not take long for his “pre-training” to begin. It seemed his vacation might already be over.
“Someone is in a hurry,” Cindy quipped, unable to hide a slight twinge of anger in her voice. Despite the very brief glimpse afforded them, they all recognized the exotic beauty of the woman. While the hat obscured most of the face, it could not hide the sensuous lips and tanned skin of the unknown woman.
“Hey, honey, relax. You see all types of whackos like that out here. Probably a hooker who forgot to pay her pimp or something,” Michael offered.
“Or jackass, maybe she’s late for a plane,” Alex responded, his mind still whirling from the encounter. “After all, we’re in an airport.” The two exchanged smirks as they got onto the elevated monorail that would take them over to the baggage claim area.
The doors opened after a two- minute ride, and they jumped off at the other end of the airport. The terminal was lined with the usual ads trying to be the first to catch a visitor’s attention. Alex noticed one for the Rosewood Grille restaurant depicting a man in a tuxedo holding a monstrous lobster like he just wrestled it from the sea himself. “I see the Rosewood is still doing alright,” Alex said. He must have seen the same ad a thousand times during his trips to Las Vegas. It seemed as permanent a fixture as the prostitutes and strip clubs.
“Maybe we should give the place a try this time. It’s got to be better than the buffets we get at these hotels,” Michael suggested. He tended to be a picky eater, and found most of the hotel buffets rather poor in quality.
“Our hotel may be different this time. Let’s give it a chance before I spend money eating that should be supporting my gambling habit.” Alex hoped he was masking his nervous tension.
“What’s the name of our place again?” Cindy chimed in.
“The Imperial Palace. It’s in a Japanese motif; not the swankiest place on the strip, but it gives us a good central location...” Alex stopped in mid-sentence as he saw the one bag he checked on the plane making its way around the conveyer belt. He darted over to pick it up, his paranoia about having his luggage stolen kicking into high gear.
“Look’s like someone is ready to gamble,” Michael laughed as he said it. Five minutes later Cindy and Michael had their bags in hand as well, and they all headed to the outside of the airport. After standing in line for a few minutes they were herded into a minivan taxi and whisked off towards their hotel. They took a left onto Tropicana Avenue, heading towards Las Vegas Boulevard, better known simply as “the strip.”
On their right, as they approached the corner of Tropicana Street and Las Vegas Boulevard stood the MGM Grand, currently one of the largest hotels in the world, its green lighting illuminated the night sky. Directly ahead of them stood New York, New York with it’s scaled down version of the New York City skyline and Statue of Liberty facing the street for all the tourists to see. A huge roller coaster wrapped around the entire hotel, and the screams of the coaster’s occupants could faintly be heard from inside the taxi as the coaster made its way through several loops.
Construction certainly appeared to still be where the real money in Vegas was Alex surmised. The last time he had been here many of the hotels including New York, New York, Mandalay Bay, and Paris had not even broken ground yet. Turning his head to the left, Alex inched closer to his window and peered out at the Excalibur and Luxor hotels. The Excalibur was a giant castle in the King Arthur mode, and The Luxor was a gargantuan black pyramid modeled after the famous pyramids in Egypt. The sheer size and gaudiness of everything always provided you with entertainment. Alex squinted, trying to get a better look at the renovation to the front of the MGM Grand. As he pressed his face closer to the glass, his right leg brushed against the side of the door. He felt the cell phone in his pocket, and tried to decide how to play the CIA’s little game. Should he be aggressive or wait to be told what to do?
He looked over at Michael and Cindy, and saw they were engrossed in their own conversation. Michael was pointing out the different hotels while attempting to dance around the questions of which strip clubs they visited when they were here for Alex’s bachelor party. They seemed to be enjoying themselves. Alex was happy for his friend. 10/01/00 led directly to his being hired by the CIA, destroying his marriage. He knew he made the right choice though. If they were right for each other she would have been supportive of his decision. On the other hand, that same event brought Michael and Cindy together. Michael was a doctor in NYC at the time and Cindy was a nurse. They met during the frantic hours after the collapse of the towers as they worked together to handle the massive influx of patients flooding into the hospital. They had been inseparable ever since. Alex guessed an engagement ring could be coming at any time.
The cab turned right onto Las Vegas Boulevard., heading in the direction of their hotel. The Imperial Palace sits almost in the center of the strip, making it perfect for travelers looking to sample all the different hot spots on foot. As an added bonus, Caesars, perhaps the most well known Vegas landmark stands directly across the street from the Imperial Palace. Alex reached into his pocket and pulled out the small cell phone. In a way, he was disappointed with the monotony of the item.
He decided to stick with his first instinct, and wait for the strange woman to make the first move.
He slid the cell phone back into his pocket and looked up as the taxi made a right turn into the covered portico in front of their hotel. The incident was forgotten for the moment as they pushed through the main doors of the hotel and became engulfed by the expanse of green tables, people yelling, and the constant rattle of coins cascading into tins.
“Michael, how about we show your girl how to roll the dice before calling it a night?” Alex said. The familiar sights and sounds of the casino immediately entranced him.
It took thirty-five minutes to check in, take their luggage up to their rooms, and make their way back to the casino. A feat like this could only be accomplished late at night when the weary travelers who came in on the red-eye flights checked in. This was another one of these tricks of the trade Alex learned on his previous visits; never fly in at a normal hour, or you risked standing in line for an hour for everything.
The main casino of the Imperial Palace sits at the very front of the hotel’s ground floor. To get there, they had to follow the unusual course of riding the elevator to the second floor, then heading down an escalator, past a small strip of stores, and into the gaming area. At a few minutes past midnight, the casino was humming with a palpable energy, and it took two circles around the crowded gaming area before they found some space around one of the craps tables.
Cindy watched from behind as Alex and Michael both plopped two hundred dollars down on the table. The dealer silently took the money, and the croupier slid a large stack of chips back over for them to play with. They had lucked into a decent spot at one of the ends of the table. Alex glanced around him, amused by the cornucopia of different people that encircled the table. Gambling certainly did not discriminate. A heavy-set man with greasy, unkempt hair stood to their right, a Harley Davidson tattoo encircling most of his flabby forearm. To their left, a tall black man with a sculpted chest rattled the dice in his hands. Alex thought he looked like the prototypical linebacker, big but fast. The rest of the table consisted of a few couples in formal evening attire, and at the opposite end of the table, a lone obese man in a caramel colored suit. The tall black man rattled the dice one more time for good luck. Judging by the amount of chips sitting on the pass line, and the thick stack of chips in front of him he looked like he was taking the table on a winning ride. The round placeholder on the table indicated his current point to be nine, and Alex did not hesitate to try to catch the wave of luck. He dropped thirty dollars worth of chips onto the pass line.
***
Sha
kir adjusted the crotch of his caramel colored suit, and use his left arm to pull in another batch of his winnings. He did not care about the money he was winning. He just wanted to be relieved of this job so he could go back to his normal duties. He received the call from his superior an hour earlier, while he was staking out his usual area outside the airport terminal. His new job description was vague to say the least. The orders were simple but nonsensical. Follow any group of three people that he saw coming out of the baggage claim area as long as the group contained two men and just one woman. The sparse late night crowd at the airport made the task feasible; albeit still difficult. He knew the boss always kept plenty of watchers at the airport besides him, and they were now dispersed throughout the city, following all the threesomes they could find. He had no idea why, but he would follow the orders. He knew better than to question commands from his superiors.
It seemed strange for two guys and a girl to come to Vegas, he thought. Could they be swingers? The girl with them seemed attractive enough, and they all seemed pretty chummy. After a few more seconds, he refocused his attention on the table, and the black man about to roll the dice. A flick of his powerful wrist and the dice went flying across the green expanse of the table, finally coming to a rest with a five and four showing; another winning roll. A collective yell of excitement erupted from the table. The celebration caused some people walking by to stop and observe for a few seconds before continuing on their original path.
While stacking more of his winnings, Shakir gave his quarry another once-over, trying to implant their faces in his mind. An eleven followed the nine, giving everyone standing around the table another influx of free money. Shakir watched as the taller of the two men covered the board with some aggressive bets. He began to follow suit when the cell phone clipped to his belt began vibrating. He yanked it off and watched the tiny rectangle of glass as a text message popped up on the screen.
“Continue surveillance. You will be replaced asap. Don’t lose them.” It was not much help. He sipped his diet cola and put another minimum bet on the table. He needed to make his money last as long as possible.
Shakir wondered what could possibly be the reason he was being forced to watch these three. They seemed harmless. He tugged at his shirt. Despite the frigid temperature of the casino he was sweating profusely. Pools of sweat were visible around the armpits of his white dress shirt. The last hour of following these three had been nerve wracking. The order to trail threesomes had come from one of the boss’s top security men, and it had been accompanied with threats of permanent maiming for any disobedience. He knew he was currently out of his element, and that could land him in trouble if someone did not replace him soon. He preferred his normal job. He was muscle as his superiors liked to say. If he had been Italian and lived during the heyday of the mafia, he would have been what the families referred to as a soldier. He followed orders and broke things, or people, if the situation warranted it. He was a blunt instrument of aggression to be wielded at his boss’ request.
***
Looking down at his watch, Alex could not believe it was almost two a.m. The crowd around the craps table finally dispersed when the black man’s run of luck ended. Now only two other players remained besides Alex and Michael. Cindy finally decided to join in the game thirty- five minutes earlier, and a string of beginners luck gave her a quick one hundred dollars and a look of disgust from her two more experienced companions. She quickly picked up her chips after her coup and cashed in the winnings. “I’m exhausted, honey. Let’s go to bed before I blow my money on something else.” The words were partially drowned out by a yawn from Cindy’s impish mouth.
“Alright. I’m beat myself. Alex, you staying?” Michael asked.
“Yeah, I think I’ll hang around a little longer,” Alex replied. “See if the luck holds. Remember to wake me up early. We can show Cindy the strip in all its glory.” A sly smile crept across his face despite his best efforts to suppress it. It appeared quite obvious to him that Cindy was ready for bed, but not actual sleep.
“No problem, bud. See you in the morning.” Michael pretended to ignore his friend’s look. He could feel his girlfriend’s eyes boring into the back of his head. Taking her hand, they headed in for the night. Alex quickly turned his attention back to the table and selected two of the six dice the dealer offered him. The dealer was miffed at the game being held up for a few seconds, and Alex apologized immediately. He understood the importance of a smooth, flowing game.
The rattling of dice in his hands brought back fond memories of when he first learned the intricacies of the game of craps. It had been during spring break of his junior year in college. It had been his first trip to Vegas, and he just turned twenty-one the month before. A long night of drinking at a nightclub for the young twenty’s crowd in Vegas ended in a failure to pick up any women. Unable to find a cab, he walked back to his hotel in a drunken haze. His friends, including, Michael had given up a long time ago and gone to bed, but Alex was stubborn. He never felt as tired in his life as when he pushed through the casino doors after two hours of walking.
“Eleven is a winner.” The monotone voice of the dealer brought Alex out of his happy excursion down memory lane. It looked like it could be a very profitable weekend as the dealer dropped fifty more dollars worth of chips in front of him.
“Same dice, please,” Alex said sternly, not wanting to jinx the streak of luck he was having. He promised himself he would go to bed as soon as he crapped out. The jet lag was catching up with him as the excitement of the arrival began to wear off. Besides, I’ve got all tomorrow, Saturday, and Sunday to continue this. Grabbing the offered dice, he rattled them in his fist and sent them hurtling across the table. The dice showed a total of three. Alex kept his promise to himself, accepted the loss, picked up his winnings, and headed off to bed. He did not notice the obese man in the brown suit hurriedly cashing in his own stack of chips for larger denominations.
Chapter 6
The door’s dead bolt lock silently slid into its housing, and the two men peered inside the tiny office before entering. The small, darkened room was a mess. Rows of miniature televisions lined every available space on the walls, and boxes of VHS tapes were scattered across the floor. They were at the airport, underneath it to be more precise, thanks to triple the usual fee. They left the night watchman standing outside in the cool desert air, nervously chain smoking cigarettes, and counting the wad of hundred dollar bills they gave him. It was just after three a.m., and they were in a hurry to complete their self-appointed task. The two men, both with grim looks on their faces, each grabbed a box, and began flipping through the tapes.
“Somebody hit it big,” Gregor commented as he glanced at one of the television screens showing various parts of the airport. The slot machines in the airport, like any other gaming area in Las Vegas, were constantly under surveillance. The lady on the screen appeared to be in her mid-fifties, and while there was no sound coming from the television, both men could clearly see the steady stream of coins cascading out of the bin and onto the floor. The lady was in hysterics, not quite sure what to do as strangers began to stop and gawk as if they were looking at the aftermath of a wreck on the freeway.
Paying three thousand dollars to get in tonight was exorbitant, but they had no choice in the matter. They rarely made an unannounced appearance, but when they did, they knew the greedy prick would really stick it to their pocketbooks.
At least it’s not my money, Solomon told himself. Aman had told him to do whatever was necessary, and he was obeying those orders. When Aman called him to complain that a girl had seduced Zachariah and made off with a private cell phone, Solomon thought it sounded comical. He stopped laughing when Aman went into a tirade, and had Solomon put the entire network on alert. The specific orders were that nothing else mattered until she was apprehended with the cell phone.
“That little bitch has no idea what she has gotten herself into,” Aman had seethed to Solomon before slammin
g down the phone. Solomon’s network of watchers picked up her trail within minutes of being given the order. Solomon took personal control of the operation and followed her to the airport. Nabbing her there seemed like it was going to be easy, until she suddenly vanished through the security checkpoint with the rest of the departing travelers. He thought she made a fatal mistake when she hopped out of the cab and ran into the airport. He now realized it was a premeditated move. Solomon hurriedly purchased a ticket, and rushed through the security checkpoint after her. He left his weapon with one of his men outside the airport.
She played the cat and mouse game surprisingly well. She weaved through the crowds, disappearing for seconds at a time as she darted around, behind, and through the sea of heads coming and going from Sin City. It was impossible to tell if she discarded the stolen cell phone in a trash can or handed it off to an unknown accomplice. He caught sight of her just as she bumped into a group of three people, but he was too far away to get a good look at the trio. That was when two airport security guards grabbed him from behind, slammed him into a wall, and began harassing him. She had spotted his surveillance. The questions the cops bombarded him with implied that she told them that he was an ex-boyfriend that was stalking her. Solomon was impressed with her quick thinking. He found it difficult to believe she was just the stripper Aman claimed her to be. After twenty minutes of trying to finagle his way past the security guards he finally used a stern warning followed by a good old-fashioned bribe. He found the stick followed by the carrot to be a more productive way of getting what he wanted. Once he dropped the name of his boss, the cops gladly accepted the bribe and let him go. As soon as he was freed, he phoned his men outside and gave instructions to trail any group of three people that consisted of two guys and one girl. The descriptions he was able to provide were vague at best, but it was at least better than nothing.
Agent of Influence: A Thriller Page 3