Chapter 23
Dusk settled in over the city painting it in shades of coral. Even though Las Vegas tries to pretend it’s a mirage, the beauty of a desert sunset can never be overshadowed.
The neon lights in town got brighter while the shadows got deeper. It took a while for the cab company to send me a car. Thankfully it wasn’t the same driver. I took it as a sign.
I walked down the Strip like I knew where I was going. Families clustered in front of the hotels to watch the different fountain shows. A group of bridesmaids squealed as they tipped on their high heels, the bride, her arms around two of the girls, yelled, “Girls’ night!” and her friends cheered.
I’d spent the last half hour walking back and forth across Caesar’s Palace, ducking behind pillars to check for shadows. Man, I was starting to sound like Jason. I memorized every exit and walked every path that could get me out of the hotel. The only thing I wasn’t sure of, were the cameras. Whose side were they on? I wasn’t sure how long it would take these guys to crack into hotel security. There was nothing I could do about it if they did. It was a risk I was going to have to take.
I hit last-call-return and waited.
“Yes?”
“Here’s how it’s going to roll.” Roll? Did I really just say that? “You drive Jason’s car to Caesar’s Palace. Park on the sixth level, east end. If you aren’t there in five minutes – I’m out.”
“I’ll be there.”
“If I don’t have Jason, you don’t get the drive.” Click. I swallowed against the bitter taste in my mouth. Sure, I'd been confident on the phone, but if this didn't work, I'd be a sitting duck and they’d have Jason, me, and the drive. I pressed my nails into my palms. It had to work.
Caesar’s lobby was packed with mid-week partiers. I groaned as a group of twenty-something guys stumbled by, cheering on their quarterback. What-ever.
I dashed through the casino, making a detour through the gift shop, and ended up at the east elevator. Pressing number seven, I said a hurried prayer for safety. Till death do us part could come a lot faster than either Jason or I planned if I didn’t play my cards right.
Exiting on level seven, I did a quick scan of the area and pressed the number one, sending the elevator back to the ground floor. I tiptoed down the stairs to level six, hoping to take them by surprise by coming from above.
It worked.
Peeking through the glass, I saw two guys on either side of the elevator, waiting to grab me as I came out. Jason’s car parked facing the elevator, its rear end towards the stairs. Once again I hit the call return button.
“You’re late,” said the man in the car. I could just make out his outline as he lifted the phone to his ear.
“Call off your dingoes or I drop the drive in the drink.” My attempt at being a hard-liner sounded cheesy, even to me. “Send them down to level one in the elevator and step out of the car.”
I held my breath while my mystery man stepped from the car to give a signal. We all waited for the elevator before the goons climbed in. When the number five lit up, I stepped out of the stairwell, holding the door slightly open behind me.
“Set the keys on the seat and leave the car door open. You go to the front of the vehicle. I’ll throw you the drive from back here.”
The boss-man did as he was told, smiling the whole time. If he had money riding on what happened next, he couldn't have had a worse poker face. He thought he had the upper hand and he strutted as if he were headed to the winner's circle.
Letting go of the door, and shutting off my quick escape. I walked towards the driver’s side of the car and stumbled into the back bumper before reaching the open door. Throwing a flash drive at the man in grey, I ducked in for a look. Jason sprawled in the passenger seat. He was breathing loudly, like someone in a deep sleep. His left eye was swollen shut and he kept one arm around his middle as if he were trying to protect himself. Tears threatened, but I swallowed my emotions back. I still had to get us out of here.
“What did you do to him?”
“We just gave him something to make him more cooperative.”
The man in the grey suit inserted the flash drive into a hand-held gizmo. Dang. I thought I’d have more time. The elevator opened up, the dingoes were back. The front seat was empty.
“Keys,” I demanded.
Jason groaned and stirred. “Alyssa?”
I didn’t dare take my eyes off the approaching goons to check on him. I was out numbered and they knew it. Goon number one dangled the keys from two fingers. “Come get ‘em,” he invited.
I ducked into the driver’s seat locking the doors behind me. They laughed.
The suit’s device beeped, proving that my gift shop decoy drive hadn’t bought all the time I thought it would. He dropped a few choice words. “Get her,” he ordered.
They advanced on the car, still laughing -– until they heard the engine roar to life. I smiled wickedly. Thank goodness for the spare key box Jason kept behind the back tire. Using all my rusty-old pick-up truck skills I managed to get us past the goons before killing the car.
"Alyssa, you don’t drive so well,” Jason slurred.
Gritting my teeth, I turned the key again, this time using more sensitive movements to maneuver the tank down a level. I could hear other engines gunning behind us. I just needed to stay ahead of them long enough to make the drop off.
Jason swerved with the car. Whatever drug they gave him, made him happy as a clam and honest as a child. I wondered what all he’d told his captors. I flipped open my cell phone and dialed Elvis.
“You really shouldn’t drive and talk on the phone.” Jason gave me a dopey smile. I was ecstatic he was here with me and not all that bad off considering the crowd he ran with, but I had to ignore him for the moment.
“Hello, Alyssa, how may I help you?” The same polite voice answered.
“I have the missing bird.”
“That’s so sad. Did you love your bird?” Jason asked. He reached his hand out to take mine. I swatted him away.
“We have already received your report, Alyssa. We are doing everything in our power to get Jason back.”
“NO! I have the missing bird. I mean Jason. I have Jason.”
“Excuse me?”
“Long story. I need some backup or something. I’ve got two ...” Check the rear view mirror, “… silver cars following me and I need someone to take them out, so I can make the drop off.”
“Locating your position now. ... I have three agents in the immediate area.” The operator’s demeanor never changed from cool control.
“How do I get to them?” I’d picked up speed as well as skill on level two. My back end fish-tailed as I turned the corner to level one. I could see the exit – wooden arm down – a few hundred feet ahead of me.
“They will get to you. Head for the drop off.”
An elderly couple, dressed in pastel polyester, made a move to cross my path. I laid on the horn. Jason covered his ears and groaned. The woman’s arms flew into the air as the man pulled her out of the way. They undoubtedly will report this incident to the hotel.
I smiled. Wait till they see this.
Pressing the accelerator, ever so slightly, the car jumped forward. Jason looked up in enough time for his slowed reflexes to process my reckless path. He pulled his legs up into the fetal position and screamed like a little girl.
I laughed out loud. The poor garage attendant dove out the other side of the hut – like that was necessary – as I plowed through the barrier to freedom. The top of the beautiful car would be scratched, but I was sure Jason knew a guy that could fix that.
Reaching over, I pushed Jason’s hands away from his face. He looked accusingly at me. “You are crazy.”
“Crazy for you.”
He groaned. Recognizing his particular shade of green, I rummaged for the empty cup rolling behind his seat and handed it over. Within seconds he was busy filling it. The silver cars were caught in the same stop-and-go traf
fic I was. In between shifting gears and keeping an eye on the men bent on getting us, I rubbed Jason’s back.
“I think I feel better now.” He still looked green to me.
“What did they give you?”
“We call it “happy juice.” It lowers inhibitions and dulls the senses.” He let out a manly burp.
“I guess the honeymoon is over,” I quipped.
“Sorry.” He made a sour face. “Thankfully, it’s oral. Once you throw it up, it wears off quickly.” He burped again while he searched for a bottled water. Rinse and spit. Rinse and spit. We had this part of marriage down. Once the cup was full, he threw it out the window, sending it sailing into a nearby garbage can.
“Nice shot.”
“Thanks. Where’s the drive?”
I pulled it out of my bra and handed it over. “Good hiding spot.” He lifted an Elvis lip, making his swollen eye scrunch up. He grimaced.
“For some reason, that is so not romantic right now.”
His frame withered. I'd hit a sensitive spot. Oops.
“We’re almost there. Pull over here and I’ll jump out.”
I clicked the lock button just to make sure the doors were secure. “I don’t think so.”
He raised his eyebrows.
“We are not separating again. Who knows what trouble you’ll get into.”
“I’ll get into?”
“Yeah. I don’t feel like saving your butt again today, so just stay close all right.”
Jason rubbed his palm over his good eye. “Who are you?”
I smiled. Watching that lunatic drive away with Jason this afternoon changed all my pre- and post-wedding jitters to an absolute, undeniable, never-to-be-questioned, understanding that we were meant to be together. From this day forth, I was his and he was mine. I smiled. “I’m the wife of an international spy.”
Jason grinned, which made my heart hurt because he cringed and gingerly touched his face.
“What’s the plan?” he asked as he inspected the damage in the visor’s mirror.
“Make the drop off – together – and get the heck out of Dodge.”
Boom! A cannon went off in the pirate ship just ahead of us. Checking his spy watch, Jason’s face turned grim. “That’s the start of the pirate show. We have three minutes.”
“Time to make a run for it.” I clicked my seatbelt free and yanked the wheel to the right and into an illegal parking spot. The car responded like a child whose parent grabbed their ear to haul them out of Sunday school class for making rude jokes. I mentally apologized and patted the dash.
I hated leaving her parked here, vulnerable to the local police. But, who cared if we got a ticket? Jason knew a guy who could fix that. Bailing from the car, we met by the hood and clasped hands.
“Don’t lose me.” He smiled.
“Come on.” I pulled him toward the show.
Glancing over my shoulder, I saw the silver cars drop off two of their occupants and continue on. We dodged in and out of foot traffic. Music filled the air and people pointed as pirates hit the water and the captain fought his way to the treasure.
“There’s Mr. Stone.” Jason pointed to a rather small Asian man standing at the rail. He was probably in his late 40’s and wore a ridiculous tourist hat. He didn’t look like a spy and his body angled as though he was taking in the attraction. He would wait exactly sixty seconds after the lights went out and then he’d be gone.
We were so close, within twenty feet of handing over the drive and skipping town. The old saying that what happens in Las Vegas stays in Las Vegas would apply to this mission. Jason and I would probably never speak of it again unless it was during pillow talk. I flushed. I was really looking forward to some pillow time with Jason.
Just then the show ended and we were bathed in darkness. I felt something hard jam into my lower back.
“Ow.”
“Hello, Alyssa.” My boss’s voice sent chills up my back. I let go of Jason’s hand and the crowd swept him away.
“Let’s take a walk.”
I planted my feet. I had a better chance of living if I stayed put. This was a gambling town and I took a gamble that Devin didn’t want to shoot me on the streets of Las Vegas. They tended to frown on that here. “Let’s not. Why don’t you just tell me what you want?”
“You know what I want.”
“I don’t have it.” I folded my arms across my chest. I could see the goons closing the circle around the two of us. If I could just buy Jason some time to make the drop off... Keeping an eye on three people wasn’t easy, but I figured the one behind me, holding a gun to my back, was the least of my worries. Devin wouldn't shoot me. Of course, I didn't think he'd fund terrorists either, so maybe he would shoot me. A chill slithered down my spine and sweat gathered in places I'd rather not disclose.
I tried to breathe without pressing the barrel any deeper into my skin. Just as I was about to let out a scream that would bring the whole Strip to the rescue, the goon on the left crumpled to the ground. A lady, the same one I’d seen stab him with a needle only a second before, screamed that her husband was having a heart attack and a crowd gathered.
I blinked several times trying to make sense of what just happened. Devin tightened his grip on my arm. If I'd been thinking instead of reacting I could have used the distraction to break away from him. Dang, my secret agent skills needed some work.
The goon on the right tripped forward onto a bench, then sat, unmoving as another man arranged his arms and legs into a natural position so quickly I almost wasn’t sure he didn’t throw his arm over the back of the bench on his own. Sweet. My backup has arrived.
Devin ignored the wailing woman and pressed the gun hard enough into my back that I was sure it would leave a bruise. “Well, I’m sure your boyfriend would be willing to trade it for you.”
Jason materialized next to me with an I-gotcha smile. My heart did a flip-flop that had nothing to do with the gun at my back. Man was he gorgeous.
“I’m not her boyfriend, I’m her husband.”
I bit my lip and wiggled my eyebrows at him. Though he smiled, he didn’t take his eyes off Devin.
“Congratulations. Now, hand it over,” Devin ordered.
Jason hooked the key ring and dangled the drive from his pointer finger.
Devin let go of my arm, so he could take the drive, but kept the gun at my back. Quick as a flash, Jason grabbed his hand, yanked him off balance, flipped him over his shoulder and stripped his gun from his right hand. He stood over Devin with the gun pointed at his face. “Don’t move.”
“I didn’t know you could do that!” I clapped my hands and bounced on the balls of my feet. My spy husband was so cool.
Jason tossed me the drive. “Go.”
Filled with gratitude for the dancer with great taste in running shoes, I dashed to the railing only to find it empty. Police and paramedics arrived with their sirens blaring and their hands on their guns. The two unconscious men were strapped to stretchers. I saw the woman climb in with them, claiming she couldn’t leave her husband alone.
I tucked the drive back into my bra on my way to Jason, disappointed that we’d missed another drop off. Seriously, would this mission ever be over? I mean, how much did a girl have to go through to save the world from terrorists and their funding?
I found Jason in the center of it all giving the cops some story about my boss bringing me to Vegas against my will. Well, I guess that’s partially true. I gave a statement to the officer, along with my cell phone number. Being a tourist town, the cops had the street cleared of gawkers in fifteen minutes – leaving Jason and me on the bench together surrounded by families and couples waiting for the next show to start.
“What will happen to Devin?”
“Once his prints clear the system, my office will get a hold of his records and file the real charges. Same with the other two.”
I pulled the drive from its nesting place noting the way Jason glanced quickly away and turned pink.
Who ever heard of a blushing groom? I loved it.
“I’m sorry we didn’t make it,” I said as I twirled the drive.
He put his arm around my shoulders as the pirate ship in front of us came to life. We had prime seats for the show. I leaned my head against Jason feeling safe for the first time in days. As the show ended and darkness fell, I felt a small hand brush my shoulder. I jumped.
“Alyssa.” The man nodded to me.
“Mr. Stone,” Jason smiled in relief, “you’re breaking code.”
“That was quite a show you two put on, even better than the pirates. May I?” He held his hand out and I gladly handed him the flash drive.
He played with the drive thoughtfully. “I look forward to your report. Jason. Mrs. Jason.” Touching the brim of his stupid looking hat, Mr. Stone melted into the darkness and vanished like a lounge singer when the set was over.
“I like that, Mrs. Jason.” Jason interlaced my fingers with his. I smiled – I liked it too.
I laughed. “That wasn’t exactly how I had envisioned our wedding.”
Jason pouted. “What was wrong with our wedding?”
“I’m not sure I want to remember my wedding as a life-and-death situation involving an Elvis impersonator.”
He put on his best Elvis impression, “Any Way You Want Me.”
I groaned and shoved him.
“Come on, let’s go find my car.”
I shrugged. Yes, the car. That wonderful, life-saving, purr under my fingers, car was right where I’d parked it.
“Jason,” I said as we neared the deliciously dangerous vehicle. “I think I know what I want for a wedding present.” I traced my hand over the scratches on the hood and then up his arm.
He placed his palm on the roof of the car and closed his eyes before turning to me. “You can have anything you want – even my car – as long as you don’t Leave Me Cryin’ in the Chapel, darlin’.” He curled up his top lip and gave me an Elvis smolder.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and he brushed his lips against mine. When he leaned back, I pulled him in again giving him permission to take over my lips and hold me indecently close in public. As he kissed away all the fear and stress from the last few days, cannons boomed in my ears, lasers flashed before my eyes, ooh’s and ah’s escaped, and goose bumps formed. Oh, and the pirate show started again, too.
Undercover Engagement Page 10