But Nobody Wants To Die

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But Nobody Wants To Die Page 23

by David M George


  True to her word, Fay had set up a cart for us with all our cleaning supplies neatly arranged. There was a cardboard sign with KAREN neatly printed in black magic marker taped to one end. I looked for Fay but didn’t see her; I knew she was laying low until we left as I was sure she didn’t want Big Ears to find out she was working there.

  I was anxious to go before the other girls could engage us in conversation. The less attention we drew to ourselves the better. The short, fat blonde couldn’t stand it any longer, “Are you girls new?” she said, “I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”

  “Yeah, we’re new,” I said.

  “They usually start the new girls on the second floor,” she said.

  “Not us Suzanne,” I said, reading her nametag, “we’re special; we’re starting on the third floor.”

  That got a laugh from everyone, “Oh, the third floor,” she said, “well then, you must be special.”

  I grabbed the cart handles, motioning for Alphonso and Jamie to do the same. “What time is break,” I said.

  “Break is at 3:45AM,” Suzanne said.

  “See you girls then,” I said, and we hit the exit doors and went down the hallway, looking for the nearest service elevator.

  I told Alphonso this was a dry run, but nothing about where the trade was supposed to take place. Why couldn’t he think it was to take place in his office on the twelfth floor? I hit the button for the service elevator, the door opened and we stepped in. I told Jamie, “Twelve please,” and up we went. My phone rang. It was Carlos.

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “It won’t start,” he said

  “What?” I said.

  “The battery must be dead,” he said. “We’re trying to find somebody with a pair of jumper cables.”

  “Okay,” I said, as calmly as I could, “no problem. Let me know.”

  “Roger, will advise,” Carlos said.

  Jamie looked at me, but I avoided her gaze, not wanting to give Alphonso any indication that anything was amiss.

  It turned out that the magnetic card we’d stolen weeks ago no longer opened the door to Alphonso’s suite. Now we had to hunt through a hundred bars of soap to find the one Fay gave us. I motioned to Jamie to start looking, “It should have a mark on of some kind,” I said.

  Sure enough, just moments later Jamie found a box with a big black ‘X’ on it and we were back in business. I held my breath as I slid the card through the slot. The light flashed green and I turned the handle. Thank you Lord, I thought as we turned on the lights and entered the room. The room was pretty much the way I remembered it, and as we walked towards the center of the suite, I gestured towards the leather chair sitting in front of the computer, “Is that your chair?” I said.

  “Yeah, it’s mine. This whole damn place is mine,” he said.

  “You might as well sit down,” I said, “Fagamo isn’t due for another ten minutes.”

  Maybe I was a little too nonchalant about it, trying too hard to seem casual, or maybe Alphonso just decided he wasn’t taking any more orders from a girl, especially not in his own office. Whatever the reason, anger latched onto his face like a pit bull and refused to release its grip. He looked like a guy that decided he’d been pushed enough and wasn’t going to be pushed anymore.

  It wasn’t a bad punch, considering Alphonso was wearing a dress; spent the better part of the last four days tied to a chair and only exercised twice a year when he marched in the Knights of Columbus parade, carrying a sword. But it didn’t come as a surprise and I was able to slip underneath it and counter with a stiff left and follow-up with a good right hand. My left forearm still wasn’t completely healed so I had to take something off it and the right wasn’t my best punch either, seeing as how I hadn’t seen the inside of a ring in almost a month , but some things you never forget and I was able to use my hips, put all my weight behind it and bang, he went down like a sack of cement.

  “Oh now you’ve done it,” Jamie said, “and here I was worried about you shooting the son of a bitch.” No one was more surprised than I was that I dropped him, except maybe Alphonso, but I knew we better act while we had the opportunity.

  “Help me pick him up and put him in the chair,” I said. “We’ll duct tape him in so he can’t cause us anymore problems.” We got him in the chair and Jamie got the duct tape out of her purse and tossed me a roll.

  “Here,” she said, “I’ll start on his feet while you tape his hands and arms.”

  “Save some for his mouth,” I said, “we don’t want him waking up and disturbing the neighbors.” We just finished the last roll when my phone rang again.

  “It’s hard to find help on a Friday night in Vegas,” Carlos said.

  “No luck, huh?”

  “None whatsoever,” Carlos said. “I have a set of jumper cables in the trunk of the rental car.”

  “Alright, I’ll send Mikey and Melinda,” I said. “Give me the cross streets again.”

  “It’s just off Eastern Avenue and Tropicana on Renaissance Drive,” Carlos said.

  “Okay, I’ll tell them to hurry.”

  “Thanks,” Carlos said. “How are things on your end?”

  “The Marines have landed, and the situation is well in hand,” I said “But don’t worry, I’m sending a Power Ranger to bail out the Navy.”

  “Maybe I should bring the jumper cables with me so I can wrap them around your neck,” he said.

  “Shouldn’t you keep them so you can practice those cute little knots that you sailors like to use, you know, the half–hitch, the running bowline, whatever?” I said. “Call me when you get here.”

  “Roger, out,” he said, sounding disgusted and quickly hung up.

  I called Mikey and explained the situation to him, and gave him the cross streets. He said he knew where it was and would get there as quickly as he could.

  “Now what do we do?” Jamie said.

  “I guess we wait,” I said.

  “What about him?” Jamie said, gesturing towards Alphonso. He had enough duct tape wrapped around him to support an entire span of the Golden Gate Bridge. It was a good thing too because he was coming to.

  “He’s the least of our worries, he’s not going anywhere,” I said.

  There was a knock on the door. I pulled the pistol out of my purse and motioned for Jamie to cover me. I put my back against the wall next to the door, my finger on the trigger.

  “Who is it?” I said.

  “Housekeeping,” came the response.

  It sounded like Fay. “Just a minute,” I said.

  I looked at Jamie. “Could you turn him so he can’t see the door?” I said. I waited for Jamie to turn Alphonso so he now faced the window and opened the door. I didn’t want Alphonso to get a good look at her.

  “I was worried it was taking so long,” she said, “I wanted to see if you needed any help.”

  “Things are good on our end, but Carlos is having trouble getting the ambulance started so he’s way behind schedule,” I said.

  “Is that going to be a problem?” Fay said

  “It means that there might be two guys at the door guarding Dad, instead of just one,” I said. “I guess it depends on how long Jackie can convince Jimmy to stick around and enjoy the party.”

  “Jackie can be pretty convincing,” Fay said.

  “If Jimmy develops a conscience, decides to get back to his J. O. B. before Carlos and Rick get there, Jamie and I should be on hand to provide additional firepower,” I said.

  “I understand, is there anything I can do?”

  “I’m not sure; unless maybe we can surprise him, catch him in the act. Just where are Jackie and Jimmy?” I said.

  “They should be in Room #115, just down the hall from Mr. Lombardi,” Fay said.

  “What can you tell me about Jimmy?” I said.

  “I’d rather be naked in a bed full of scorpions than be alone in the same room with him,” she said.

  I filed that away for future reference. “I
imagine they keep that door locked?” I said.

  “If they have a lick of sense they do,” Fay said.

  “Do you think you could unlock their door without them knowing?”

  “I don’t know, the master opens all the room doors so I guess it depends on whether they’re paying attention or not,” Fay said.

  “Let’s hope they’re distracted,” I said. “How about you call me, let me know if you unlocked their door without being detected and we’ll take it from there.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m not sure, but whatever it is, I know it will involve duct tape. Is there a supply room where we can get more?” I said.

  “There’s one on the 9th floor, just west of the service elevator,” she said.

  “Could you open that before you go down to Room#115?”

  Fay nodded. “Alright,” she said.

  “Don’t forget to call me either way, let me know, okay?”

  “Okay, and remember what I said about Jimmy,” Fay said, as she turned and walked down the hallway.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-NINE

  THE GLOBAL HOTEL AND CASINO

  W hen the two rented black GMC Cargo Vans pulled into the back parking lot at Global Entertainment it was well past midnight of what was already a very long day. The original plan lay in tatters and now they would be forced to improvise which only added to Captain Lung’s unease.

  Jian glanced at Sgt. Wu, who was monitoring the tracking device.

  “What have you got now Sergeant?” Jian said.

  “Sir, it looks like she’s on the elevator, going up,” Sgt. Wu said.

  “Let’s see if we can find her car,” Jian said. “A Chevrolet right?”

  “Yes sir,” Sgt. Wu said, “a gray Chevy four-door Impala, Nevada plate, number DSR-833.”

  “Lieutenant,” Jian said, call Captain Tsang. Give him the description of the car and have him search the south half of the parking lot. We’ll take the north half.”

  “Aye, aye sir,” Lt. Shen said. They drove around the back rows of the parking lot for several minutes with no success.

  “Sergeant?” Jian said.

  “It looks like she is on the twelfth floor of the hotel,” Wu said.

  “Let’s park this thing,” Jian said. When they finally found an empty spot, Jian pulled in and turned off the key. “So where is she now Sergeant?”

  “Sir, she is still on the twelfth floor of the hotel,” Wu said.

  “Tell Captain Tsang to have Corporal Ling watch the front entrance. Captain Tsang can watch the back parking lot while we go inside,” Captain Lung said, “Have him send Lt. Cheng over to our vehicle in order to monitor the tracking device.”

  “Aye, aye sir,” Sgt. Wu said.

  “Let’s go play some blackjack,” Jian said.

  CHAPTER EIGHTY

  JIMMY V.

  “Y ou’re not going to make me shoot anybody are you?” Jamie said.

  “No, but I might need you to point your pistol at somebody without peeing your pants. Do you think you can do that?”

  “I can’t make any promises,” Jamie said.

  “How about just pointing your pistol without giggling?” I said.

  “Can I still pee my pants?” Jamie said.

  “Your choice,” I said

  “Oh good, I’m a big believer in free will, Jamie said. “What makes you think I would giggle?”

  “With any luck this guy is not going to have any clothes on,” I said.

  “That’s the way I like ‘em,” Jamie said.

  “Yeah, we know,” I said.

  I resisted the temptation to call Carlos and tell him what I was planning. I knew it was better to beg forgiveness than to ask permission. So just like the Marines, we were going to improvise, adapt and overcome. I tried to resist the temptation to think about all the things that could go wrong while I waited for Fay’s phone call, but didn’t have much success with that.

  “While we have a minute, let’s take a picture of Alphonso, I’m sure he’d want something to post on Facebook regarding his latest little adventure.” I said.

  “You’re so thoughtful,” Jamie said.

  “I know, I was thinking the same thing, especially since we’ve got him facing the window, enjoying the spectacular view,” I said.

  It turned out that we took quite a few, including a close-up highlighting Melinda’s make-up skills, and might have even taken more when finally the phone rang, it was Fay.

  “It’s unlocked, I don’t think they heard me,” she said.

  “Thanks, I said. “You’re a sweetheart.”

  “Be careful,” she said.

  “We will, talk to you later,” I said.

  “Well, what’s the plan?” Jamie said.

  “Let’s say goodbye to Alphonso and I’ll tell you out in the hallway,” I said.

  “Goodbye asshole,” Jamie said.

  “Goodbye dirt bag,” I said.

  “I was just thinking,” I said, as we pushed our supply cart out the door, closing it and locking it behind us; “with an unlimited supply of duct tape, we could probably take over the whole casino, maybe even rule the world.”

  “That’s nice and all, but I wasn’t thinking globally, I was really thinking more locally, specifically what are we going to do when we get to Room#115,” Jamie said.

  “Relax, okay? It should be two naked people; we tie one up and let the other one go. Just remember the part about not peeing your pants.”

  We stopped on the 9th floor and finally found the duct tape in the back of the store room behind a large bin of screws and washers. You would have thought we were pirates who found buried treasure. We even traded rolls of toilet paper for duct tape, making room on the cart for our hoard. Jamie counted them as we got back on the service elevator, “Seventeen rolls of duct tape?” Jamie said as the elevator descended.

  “Can never have too much, put a couple rolls in your purse,” I said.

  When we got to the basement, the elevator door opened and there stood three Chinese men, all dressed in business suits in the same shade of gray, carrying identical attaché cases. Two of them were tall and broad shouldered with short military style haircuts, crisp in their bearing and demeanor. The other one was much shorter, but broader, what little hair he had graying at the temples, but there was no mistaking his occupation; career military.

  Oh my God, I thought, the Chinese are here. I tried not to stare, forcing myself to look away. But why are they here at midnight, standing outside the service elevator? Maybe they’re not looking for Alphonso, maybe they’re looking for you.

  They stood back, giving us room to roll the service cart off the elevator, and Jamie and I both said, “Thank you,” as we wheeled it by. I realized the tallest one was staring at me intently, as if he was looking at a familiar face and trying to attach it to a name. I kept my eyes downcast as we wrestled the cart down the hallway, resisting the temptation to look back to see if they got on the elevator. When I finally heard the sound of the elevator door closing I looked at Jamie with relief. I didn’t know who would be more surprised when they discovered Alphonso tied to his office chair, impersonating a drag queen, them or him.

  But as soon as Alphonso opened his mouth, I knew they would know who I was and where to find me. Whatever happens with Jimmy, I thought, it needs to happen fast because we are running out of time. But the question I had no answer for kept rising in my brain, how did they find me and how did they know I was here?

  I motioned for Jamie to slow down and we rolled the cart as quietly as we could as we searched for Room #115. When we found it and parked our cart just outside the door, I now had second thoughts about being so glib earlier. This was not the time to take anything for granted. Jimmy was a snake, naked or not, and according to both Fay and Mikey, even more dangerous than the others. I had to put the Chinese out of my mind. We were so close to getting Dad that I didn’t want any distractions. Suddenly my palms were sweaty, and I took the time to dry th
em off on a cleaning rag.

  “Jimmy is our main concern,” I whispered. “I want you right alongside me when we go into the room, keep your pistol trained on him and be ready, okay?” Jamie nodded, her eyes wide. “Don’t shoot him unless you have absolutely no other choice, okay?” I said. She nodded again.

  I took the pistol out of my purse and then hid the purse in the cart as I wanted my hands free. Jamie did the same, and then pulled the pistol out, holding it at her side. I held my ear to the slight crack in the door, but couldn’t hear anything. I took a deep breath and held up three fingers and then mouthed the words, one, two, three.

  I pushed open the door and burst into the room, my pistol in firing position. Not only were they not naked but Jimmy stood by the bed in his pants and undershirt not six feet away from his gun sitting in a shoulder holster slung over the back of a chair.

  “Don’t even think about it,” I said, moving quickly to get between him and the gun while continuing to point my gun at his chest.

  “Get ‘em up,” I said, motioning with the barrel of the gun. He just looked at me. His eyes as distant as next week’s paycheck.

  “Up,” I said. He slowly raised his hands, but they only got as far as his shoulders.

  “You’re making a mistake,” he said. I recognized his voice immediately, the gravel truck in the backseat, the one who pointed the gun at Carlos. Trouble with a capital “T.”

  “Turn around,” I said. He turned very slowly, finally facing the bed.

  “On your knees,” I said.

  He remained standing, “You’re making a mistake,” he said again.

  “On your knees,” I said, louder this time, “don’t make me tell you a third time.” What was I not seeing, and why were alarm bells going off in my head? Why didn’t I wait for Carlos? What made me think I could go up against the Cosa Nostra and live to tell the tale?

 

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