To Sleep Gently

by Trent Zelazny

  "What's your name?"

  The bald man was shaking now, certain the gun was on him. "T-Thomas."

  "Do people call you Thomas, or do they call you Tom?"

  "They call—they c-call me Tom."

  "Who are your friends, Tom?"

  The use of his name seemed to calm Tom down a little bit. He still trembled, his voice still trilled, but it appeared to bring him back down to Planet Earth, or at least somewhere nearby. "That's Martin"—he indicated the black man—"and that there is Brian," indicating the blonde.

  "Hello, Martin. Hello, Brian."

  Neither Martin nor Brian said anything.

  "Tom, I want you to do something for me. I want you to disable the recording of those cameras and shut off the monitors."

  Tom didn't move, just sat there and shook.

  "Go on, Tom."

  Slowly, cautiously, Tom got up out of his chair and went over to the surveillance equipment.

  "I know how that stuff works, Tom, so don't try to pull a fast one on me."

  Tom, now in tears, his voice quiet and shaky, said, "Okay." He shut everything down the way Dempster understood it should be shut down.

  When he was finished Dempster said calmly, "I'm glad you all carry handcuffs. That saves me some trouble. I want you to do me another favor, Tom." Apparently Tom was afraid to look at him. "I want you to cuff Martin's hands behind his back, and then I want you to take Martin's cuffs and handcuff Brian's hands behind his back. You got it, Tom?"

  Tom, still shaking, nodded that he understood.

  "Remember, Tom, so long as you do what I say, no one will get hurt. Reach your hands behind you, Martin."

  He watched Tom close the metal cuffs around Martin's wrists. As he removed Martin's cuffs from his belt, Tom softly said to him, "I'm sorry."

  "He knows you're sorry, Tom. It's not your fault. You, Brian, go on and put your hands behind your back."

  When the two guards were cuffed Dempster had Tom remove all three of their belts. Tom tied Martin's feet together, then Brian's, then sat down on the floor and tied his own.

  "Now go ahead and cuff your own hands behind your back, Tom."

  It took him a minute, but he managed.

  "Now, I want all three of you to lie down on the floor."

  It was tough for Martin and Brian, both being bound the way they were and sitting in chairs. Dempster helped ease them first to their knees then down onto their stomachs. He knew enough through Gardner to know what the guards carried on them, as well as the types of things kept in the room. He opened a couple of desk drawers until he found a roll of duct tape and a pair of scissors. Peeling three strips of tape—carefully, using his knuckles as much as he could so as not to tamper with the glue on his fingertips—he covered their mouths, then ran the roll around each man's feet to ensure the belts wouldn't give out.

  He put the tape and scissors back in the drawer, collected the keys that had been on each belt, as well as the three revolvers, and stepped to the door. "Just be good and hang out for a little while. It'll all be over before you know it."

  He could hear the three men breathing fast and deep through their nostrils. It was an odd mixture with the laugh track of the TV show.

  "I'll leave the TV on for you," he told them, "so you can still watch your show."

  5

  "Shall we?"

  Evan, Clark and Jimmy, disguises in place, climbed out of the car. On the third story patio of Swig a couple stood laughing to one another, clearly drunk. They never saw the three men as they went around to the back of the Pontiac and opened the trunk. They didn't see them remove three pistols, a 9mm SIG Sauer for Jimmy, a Colt Python revolver for Clark, and a Bulgarian Arcus 94 for Evan.

  Clark also removed a small black shoulder bag in which was a small folded laundry bag.

  Evan unzipped his personal bag and rooted through it for a moment.

  "What," Clark asked, sliding his Python into the shoulder holster under his uniform, "you forget to brush your teeth?"

  Evan tossed him a disinterested glare but didn't say anything. Instead he withdrew from the bag something that made Clark gasp.

  "What the hell are you doing with that thing?"

  Evan looked at Clark, and Clark saw something truly, deeply scary in his eyes.

  Jimmy caught sight of what Evan held in his hands. All he could say was "Jesus Christ."

  "Want things done right, don't we?" Evan said as he put a couple parts together.

  "Things are gonna be done just fine," Clark told him. "There's no reason to worry."

  "Of course not. Things are gonna go great. This is just a little insurance." He folded the stock of the Micro Uzi and placed the weapon into a plastic grocery bag, bunched the bag around it and worked the package under his uniform, at his back behind his belt.

  "You're out of your mind," Jimmy said, remembering the morning Evan nearly killed him for moving his bag. "Where in the world did you get that thing?"

  "We're on a schedule here," Evan said. "Let's get going."

  "Oh my God," Clark said, glancing briefly up to heaven.

  The couple on the patio laughed again. They never looked down to the street. Now they went back inside.

  6

  "I don't want to rice it out, y'know, I just want it to look sweet. And I still need to upgrade the speakers, put a couple 12's in the trunk, probably. And I also have to have the CV joints replaced because I was doing doughnuts in reverse at, like, 15 mpg."

  Gardner wasn't sure how much more of this he could handle. He wasn't even looking at the kid, wasn't giving him the slightest bit of attention. But on and on he went, lost in his own little king-of-the-road world.

  "Natalie thought it was whore-monger."

  Gardner didn't know who Natalie was. Nor had he ever heard anyone say "whore-monger". His nerves were jittering like a frightened rabbit on an electric fence. Even if he wanted to listen to Syd, even if he was totally and utterly fascinated by what the kid was saying, he wouldn't have been able to focus on it. And as it was, if Syd didn't shut up and soon, Gardner was going to lose his head.

  The phone rang. Gardner thought he was going to jump out of his shoes. Instead he drew a breath and picked it up. "Front desk," he said with a strained voice, hoping, praying the call would postpone the upcoming events but knowing it wouldn't. Some guy up on the third floor was complaining that his television wasn't working. He had ordered a movie—no doubt what type— and couldn't get the damn thing to work at all.

  "Someone will be right up," Gardner told him politely, then cradled the phone and turned to Syd. "Go on up to room 327 and help the poor guy with his TV."

  "What's wrong with it?"

  "I don't know. Said he can't get it to work and that he ordered a movie. I can only imagine what kind. Sounded more concerned than he did upset."

  "Which movie you think it is?" Syd asked. "Ashton's Auditions, or Down Mammary Lane?"

  Gardner couldn't help chuckling. It momentarily broke up the tension he was experiencing. For as much as he couldn't stand Syd overall, the kid could be pretty cool at times.

  "Just go up and check it out, would you?"

  With a smirk Syd put down his pencil, tossed the drawing of his car under the desk, went through the two-way door and over to the elevators. Gardner heard the ding, and a moment later Syd was gone. Maybe he wouldn't come back until after this was all over. That would make things easier. He couldn't help worrying, though, about what might happen if Syd came back right in the middle of everything. Or worse, if he saw what was going on and managed to get away unseen and call the cops.

  He didn't worry about it for long. Before he could dwell on it and pick it apart, three men in gray janitorial uniforms entered.

  7

  Dempster stashed the guards' guns and keys in the parking garage then raced back up to the hallway. This time he made a left, away from the security office, and then a right into the amber glow. A short trot later he was beside the entryway of the Old House re
staurant, looking out across the lobby to the three elevators. He waited, crouched in the shadows, gun at the ready, listening to a conversation between Gardner and some young kid.

  "Go on up to room 327 and help the poor guy with his TV."

  "What's wrong with it?"

  "I don't know. Said he can't get it to work and that he ordered a movie. I can only imagine what kind. Sounded more concerned than he did upset."

  "Which movie you think it is? Ashton's Auditions, or Down Mammary Lane?"

  "Just go up and check it out, would you?"

  He heard the sound of the two-way door. A moment later the kid stood in front of the elevators and pressed the top button. There was a ding, a door opened, and the kid stepped inside. Dempster waited another good minute, worrying about when that kid was going to come back, when all of a sudden he heard someone say, "Howdy. We're the night cleaning crew."

  He wanted to look but didn't let himself. Instead he crouched further.

  "Why are you here at this hour?" Gardner asked. "You're not supposed to be here until five."

  "We were told to come now," an even, steady voice informed him.

  "I wasn't notified of this. And who are you guys? You're not the usual cleaning crew."

  "They're out on another job at this hour. That's why they sent us."

  "But you're not supposed to be here until five."

  The even, steady voice asked, "Can we speak to the night manager?"

  "I am the night manager," Gardner said. "I am for tonight, anyway. Where's all your equipment?"

  "Outside in the van. May I use your phone?"

  Dempster heard the sound of the phone being picked up, simultaneously hearing the swing of the two-way door. A couple seconds later the phone was cradled.

  That was his cue. Dempster put away his gun and entered the lobby.

  In those few seconds a lot had happened. Clark already had his gun in Gardner's back and was leading him over to the door into the back room. Jimmy stood in the lobby just outside the two-way door, while Evan entered and caught up with Clark. Dempster quickly raced behind the desk and joined the others just as Gardner got the door open.

  Rather than doing their jobs, the two guards were engaged in a card game. The moment they saw the man with the thick mustache and glasses and the gun held at Gardner's head, they froze, cards in hand.

  "Don't drop your cards," Dempster told them, his own gun out again. "Hang on to those cards with your life, and keep them raised like you're studying your hand."

  Other than involuntary shaking, both men remained just as they were. Evan walked over and relieved each man of his sidearm.

  "What are your names?"

  Tears ran down the face of the man on the left. He shut his eyes tight then opened them again, but the tears kept coming.

  "We'll just call him Teary Eyes," Evan said.

  "Shut up," Dempster told him. Then to the guard, "What's your name?"

  The guard drew a deep breath. With his voice as shaky as his hands he said, "J-Justin."

  "Hello, Justin. I want you to do me a favor. I want you to shut off all these cameras. We all know how they work so don't try to pull a fast one, okay? Are you left handed or right handed, Justin?"

  "R-r-right-right handed-ed."

  "Okay. I want you to get up and turn everything off. Keep your cards in your left hand and do it all with your right. You understand, Justin?"

  A facial twitch had taken over Justin's right cheek. He closed his eyes again and nodded.

  "Good. Now go on. No one's gonna get hurt as long as you do what we say."

  Justin got up. He approached the equipment, extended his left hand up and far away from him, five cards shaking in it like an odd flag in an irregular wind. Once everything was shut down Dempster had Justin move over to the opposite wall, both hands on his cards.

  "What's your name?" he asked the other guard.

  Far more calm and collected than Justin, almost comfortable, though smart enough to understand all the death pointed at him, the guard said, "Andrew."

  "Your friends call you Andrew, or Andy?"

  "Andy."

  "Okay, Andy, join Justin over there."

  Andy slowly rose to his feet and joined his trembling partner. Evan covered them with his Arcus 94.

  To Gardner Clark said, "What's your name?"

  "Doug."

  "All right, Doug." Clark pushed him towards the safe. "Open that up."

  "It—it-it needs keys."

  "And where are the keys?"

  "I—I don't know."

  Clark shoved him against the safe. "You know where they are." Gardner was shaking now. It was clear he was not putting on an act. He was truly terrified. "It's in the top drawer of that desk." He indicated the desk beside the door.

  Dempster opened the drawer. "There are a lot of keys in here, Doug. One's gotta be for the safe. I imagine some of these others are for those safe deposit boxes there, right? I don't know what these others are for, though. Spares for the rooms or something, maybe? Whatever. Come over here, Doug. Get the keys for the safe."

  Gardner, hands held up, crossed the room over to the desk. He pulled out the key to the safe, then at Dempster's insistence removed both sets of keys for the safe deposit boxes. One of the two sets was in the bottom drawer, which had to be unlocked with a different key.

  "Now open the safe," Clark told him.

  "You'll never get away with this," Andy said, his calm disposition dwindling.

  "That's the most contrived statement I've ever heard, Andy," Evan said. He advanced on the guard, grabbed him by the collar and shoved his pistol into the man's face.

  "Chill out," Dempster told him.

  Evan reluctantly backed off. It was then that Dempster noticed a bulge tucked under the back of Evan's belt. What the hell was that?

  "Go on and open the safe," Clark told Gardner again.

  Gardner moved in, shaking as much as the guards. He inserted the key and turned it, then looked at Clark as though at a loss for what to do.

  "Do the combination, Doug."

  "I don't know the combination," Gardner said.

  "Bullshit."

  "I swear I don't!"

  "Doug," Dempster said calmly. "Do you know Andy and Justin?"

  "Of course I know them."

  "Do you like them?"

  The look he gave was one of utter confusion. "Yes."

  "Okay, we'll have to play a little hardball. Get to work on that combination or we're gonna have to blow out Justin's kneecaps."

  "Jesus Christ," Andy said.

  Justin started shaking so bad it looked like he was having an epileptic fit. His face was as pale as snow and as wet as a river.

  Evan smiled.

  Gardner looked at Justin, then at Clark, then at Evan, and finally at Dempster. He turned around and began working the combination. The sweat in his thin hair reflected the light.

  When the safe opened Dempster announced that he was leaving Doug, Justin, and Andy in capable hands. He left the room and joined Jimmy out in the lobby.

  "I thought some kid was supposed to be here with him," Jimmy whispered.

  "He's up helping a guest with his TV. Nothing we can do about it but keep a sharp lookout for him."

  "Everything under control in there?"

  "So far so good. Cameras are off. Safe's open. I dunno what's in it but it's a start."

  "I can't help it," Jimmy said. "I'm a little freaked. I hope we get this over and done with soon."

  "Just keep your wits about you," Dempster told him. "Everything will be fine."

  Jimmy started to say something else. Something that seemed like it might have been important. Then he bit his tongue. Before Dempster could ask what was getting him Jimmy motioned over to the side. To the stairway. The stairway up to the computers.

  There was a shadow. Dempster motioned for Jimmy to get behind the front desk then moved over to the side of the stairway.

  Came the sound of descending footsteps.
A woman cleared her throat. Did Gardner know she was up there? Maybe she'd been there for hours. It didn't matter now because a woman was coming down the stairs.

  She was middle-aged. She had blue pants and a blue shirt and her hair was brown and she was studying a small stack of papers in her hands. She looked up to tell the people behind the front desk goodnight and saw Jimmy pointing a gun at her. No one needed to tell her to freeze.

  "Get behind the desk," Dempster said, surprising her because she hadn't yet known there was more than one. She joined Jimmy, Dempster following. "Lie down on your face and keep your head down. Don't try to see what's going on."

  Overcome with shock, overwhelmed by a situation she didn't really comprehend, she didn't react, just did as she was told.

  "What's your name?"

  "Marie."

  "Is there anyone else up there, Marie? Anyone else up there at the computers?"

  "Yes," Marie said. "There are a couple of people."

  "Are you sure? I don't believe you."

  "There is. One of them is a cop."

  "You're very funny, Marie," Jimmy told her.

  "What's funny about it?"

  "It's funny because you don't quite understand the situation you're dealing with."

  "I know that I'm lying face down behind the front desk of a hotel and I have two guns pointed at my back."

  "But you also want to take a chance and see if we'll run off if we think there are others up there," Dempster told her. "We're already outnumbered and haven't had a problem yet. No one's been hurt so far but that could change. It could change very quickly, Marie." He paused here to let the information settle in her mind. "Now, is there anyone else up there?"

  She sighed. It was a frightened sigh. "No."

  "You sure?"

  "Yes, I'm sure. I'm just afraid."

  "Don't be afraid, Marie. This will all be over soon and you can go back to your room. Just lie there and keep still. Can you do that, Marie?"

  "Yes, I—I think so."

  "Good." Dempster rose and moved swiftly over to the back room and looked in. Other than some papers, the safe was now empty. Evan had his gun on Gardner, who was tying up Justin and Andy's feet with their belts. Their hands were cuffed behind them. Justin was shaking a little less now. Clark had begun work on the safe deposit boxes.