I stare after him for a while. I really want him with me. I feel disappointed as I turn around and start to walk. But the guards block my path.
“Why the costumes?” The younger guard asks and steps forward.
“Take off the masks.” The older man orders.
I rise up off the marble a few feet, so that I’m looking them in the eye. They take a step back, but I raise my hand.
“Look, guys. I’m not looking to start trouble, okay.”
“Why are you here?” The older guy asks.
“I’m looking for an old friend. Perhaps you know him?”
“Who is he?” The older guy asks.
“Tony Bardino.” I reply and smile.
“You’re no friend of his.” The young guard retorts with a sneer.
“Ah, so you do know him. Great. Take me to him, please. We have business to discuss.” I say and hover closer to them, and pick up the young security guard by his jacket.
“What are you waiting for? Shoot her, man.” The guard mumbles, as he dangles in my hands.
“Umm, I can’t right now.” His companion replies.
We both look in his direction, and he is now upside down, and dangling a few inches from the lovely ceiling.
“Having trouble?” Paul asks as he saunters over with his white gloved hands in the air.
“You should lose the gloves, seriously.” Beth says as she joins us and looks up at the old security guard, as his face turns purple.
“And the cape.” I add and giggle.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Paul grumbles.
“So, are we going to hang around here, or what?” Stuart asks as he walks by.
“Show us the way like a good little boy, will you.” I ask and carry my prisoner through the lobby, as I fly slowly past astonished tourists and Bellagio staff.
‘You do realize that this is not going to make us popular.’ Beth says inside my head.
I never was very popular. I fly through the cavern-like lobby, and through to the casino part. The security guard points to the left.
“There’s a private door that leads to the office area.” He mumbles.
I carry him through the casino as more security guards start to arrive. The security guard uses a keycard to open the door, and I fly us both through. Beth and Stuart follow us, but I hear Beth complain behind me. I turn, and see Beth standing with her hands on her hips.
“Come on, stupid.” Beth says.
“I need to hold them off. Just go on. I’ll be cool.” Paul says as he stands with his back to the open door, and faces the crowd of security guards who are running towards us.
Paul raises his white gloved hands, and the guards slam into an invisible barrier and bounce back, stumbling.
Paul looks over his shoulder at us. “Go. I’ve got this.”
“I hope you can stop bullets.” Beth says, as a security guard pulls a gun from his side holster.
“Uh, oh.” Paul mutters, and then the door slams shut.
“Come on, we need to find this old guy.” Beth says and strides by underneath me
“Where is he?” I ask and shake the guard.
“Upstairs. Top floor office.” The guard says.
I fly along the plain cream hallway until I come to a door, which leads to the stairs. I push it open and fly through. It’s a nice large square stairwell, so I fly over to the center and look up.
“Meet you at the top, guys.” I say, and fly straight up.
“Aaagh.” The guard moans, and clings on to me for dear life as I ascend quickly, passing floor after floor in seconds.
I reach the top, and look down a long barren hallway, just as plain and boring as the one downstairs. The only thing that stands out is that there is only one door. A large walnut paneled door, which is stained a deep golden color, and stands proudly at the end of the hallway.
“You can let me go now, right?” The guard asks.
“Wait on the stairs. If you so much as move or call for help, I won’t be happy.” I say and drop him to the grey-carpeted floor.
He stumbles backwards, and moves quickly down the stairs and then sits down. I hear a rush of wind, and then Beth and Stuart appear. The guard flinches and looks up at us.
“Who the hell are you people?” The guard asks nervously.
“This may be hard to believe, but we’re actually the good guys.” Stuart says and smiles apologetically at the man.
I fly down the hallway as Beth and Stuart walk quickly behind me. I reach the door, and press my ear to the wood. I hear something metallic click.
As I bring my right arm up to knock on the door, I feel the pain in my head, and hear the ringing in my ears.
“Careful, guys.” I say, and then knock.
“Who is it?” A young man’s voice calls out from inside.
“Special delivery.” I answer, and bring my right arm back and punch the door.
The hinges snap like twigs, and the door flies into the room and crashes against a large desk. I hear the crack of a gunshot to my right, and quickly focus all of my attention in that direction. I can’t see the bullet at first, and then I look down and see its shadow on the carpet, thrown by the bright overhead lights. This all happens in a nanosecond.
I sidestep the bullet, and then swat it out of the air, and then I go for the shooter. He’s maybe thirty years old, and is wearing a tight fitting grey suit. The black gun he holds is soon in my hands, and I shatter it before his astonished eyes. I hear a groan from across the room behind me, and then I hear a loud crackle of electricity, and then another groan behind me.
“What the hell are you?” The young gunman in the grey suit asks, as he falls over backwards, and lands on his butt.
“Not what. Who.” I correct him. “I’m Cosmic Girl. And I’m looking for Tony Bardino.”
“That’s me, kid.” I hear an old man say behind me.
I turn, and an old man in sweats and a blue jumper gets up from the plush gold carpet near Beth.
She stands behind him in her white catsuit and matching eye mask, watching him carefully. He stands up and hobbles over to the desk and sits down.
“But I don’t know you. Why you looking for me, kid?” Tony Bardino asks, as he takes a deep breath and rubs his left shoulder.
“A few months ago, there was a terrorist attack in Washington D.C.” I begin.
“And?” He asks.
“Victims were put into trucks and then driven here.”
“And?”
“And rumor has it, that you were the one who financed this whole thing.” I say angrily, infuriated at his indifference.
“You shouldn’t believe every rumor you hear, kid. Why would I do something like that?”
“I’m not a criminal, so I don’t know.” I reply.
“Ah. I see. You think I’m the bad guy, right?”
I nod and shove the young man back down as he tries to get up, and I give him a warning look.
“You certainly seem to have a past history with kidnapping.” I reply.
“Sorry to disappoint you, kid. But I’m legit now. I wouldn’t do anything as stupid as what you’re describing.” He sighs and looks around him.
“There’s no need. We make about a hundred large most days from our casinos.” He says, and then looks briefly at the young gunman. “This sounds like the kind of thing someone young and stupid would do.” He adds, and looks back at me.
I catch the look, and check the young gunman as he looks furtively about him. He’s sweating, and he looks nervous. I reach down and pluck him from the gold carpet, and raise him into the air.
“You look young and stupid.” I say. “Do you have anything that you want to get off your chest?”
He claws at my hands to no avail, and keeps looking at the door.
“Well, Ricky? Do you know anything about what this kid is talking about?” Tony Bardino asks, and stands up from his chair.
“Maybe.” The young gunman mumbles.
I set him down on the
edge of the desk, and make him sit.
“Talk.” I demand.
“Go ahead, Ricky.” Tony Bardino asks. “I want to hear it.”
“I’m sorry, boss..” Ricky starts to speak, but is silenced with a hard slap to the face from Tony Bardino.
“I must say, Ricky. I’m very disappointed with you.”
Ricky rubs his face, and lowers his head.
“Oh, meet Ricky Morano.” Tony says and gestures to the young gunman.
“There was so much money.” Ricky begins. “So much. I’d never seen that much dough before. I couldn’t resist.”
“Who offered you the money?” Tony Bardino asks.
“I’d only met him twice before. He used to play here. I met him at one of the blackjack tables. He was throwing money around like it was candy. He lost a couple of grand in minutes, but just laughed it off.” He shook his head.
“We got talking, and I asked him what he did. He said he worked for some big shot, a real player. He mentioned that if I was interested in some work, I should call this guy.”
“Who?” I ask.
“He didn’t give a name. He was real mysterious about it. He just gave me a blank card and scribbled a number on it, and gave it to me.”
“You still have it?” Tony Bardino asks.
Ricky reaches into his suit jacket, and pulls out a piece of white card. I snatch it from him and read the number aloud.
“I don’t recognize the area code.” I say.
“It’s a non-geographic number.” Stuart says and walks over. “It means this number doesn’t help. He could be anywhere.”
“Damn it.” I mumble, and see the phone on his desk. “May I?” I ask, and motion to the phone.
“Be my guest.” Tony Bardino replies.
I pick up the receiver and dial the number. The tone goes dead as soon as I dial the last digit. I hang up.
“It’s dead.” I say.
“You did speak to him, right?” I ask Ricky Morano.
He nods. “Yeah.”
“What did he sound like?” I ask.
“I don’t know. In his forties, maybe. Definitely a west coast accent. Oh, yeah. He kept calling me darling. Which I thought was creepy.”
“Is there a way to trace the number, to see who it was with?” I ask Stuart.
He shrugs. “It’s possible.”
“The gambler. The man who gave you the card. Who is he? Did he tell you his name?” I ask Ricky.
“No. He never gave his name.” Ricky replies.
“Damn it.” I moan. Another dead end.
“But I got one of my girls to find out.” Ricky says, and smiles for the first time. “She dug through his wallet while he was in the shower. Told me his driver’s license had Paul Thomas Richardson on it.”
“What?” Stuart asks and sounds shocked.
“What? You know him, kid?” Tony Bardino asks.
“I’ve heard the name before. He’s a movie producer.” Stuart replies.
“He makes movies?” Beth asks.
“Not exactly. He bankrolls movies, and helps get them made.” Stuart replies.
I turn my attention back to Ricky Morano.
“Who planted the bomb?” I ask.
“A bomb?” Tony Bardino asks.
I nod. “Talk.” I say and prod Ricky.
“I don’t know nothing about no bomb.” Ricky replies.
“Hmm, I think your friend is getting impatient.” Tony Bardino says, and points to a monitor screen on his desk.
I fly around the desk, and see Paul looking up at the security camera. He still has his white gloved hands held out in front of him, but he is shrugging his shoulders and his mouth is opening and closing quickly. Unfortunately, there’s no sound. I expect he’s being colorful as usual, though.
“Let’s go.” I say and turn to leave. “Sorry for the intrusion, but I thought you were the one we were looking for.” I say.
“I almost feel sorry for the man you are looking for.” Tony Bardino says in parting.
We head back downstairs, and as we near the door to the casino, I can hear Paul’s tirade. I open the door and pat him on the shoulder.
“What the hell were you doing, having dinner with him?” Paul says as he lowers his hands.
“Let’s go.” I say, and race through the casino in a blur.
“Hey, hang on. Did you see the bullet casings?” Paul shouts as he races after us.
“Aww, come on. You didn’t see?” Paul shouts as we head outside.
I see Mitchell leaning against the metal railing outside the dancing fountains.
“We need to leave.” I urge and grab his arm as a swarm of security guards emerge from The Bellagio.
“Oh, right.” Mitchell says and becomes a blur as we all race back towards the airfield.
“Did you find what you were looking for?” He shouts next me, as we run along the sidewalk.
“Not quite.” I shout back, as I dodge a family pushing a pram.
“But we have another lead.”
Nineteen
The next week in school is kind of a blur.
I don’t even realize that I’ve totally switched off, until Mr Barnes catches me blanking him in English.
“Hello. Earth calling Britney?” Mr Barnes says, and waves his smooth pink hand in front of my face.
Mitchell nudges me with his elbow.
“What? Sorry?” I mumble as I realize where I am. Uh oh. I don’t like the look on Mr Barnes’ face.
“The rest of us were discussing the relationship between Heathcliff and Catherine. You know, Wuthering Heights. Perhaps you would like to join us?”
“Uh, right.” I mumble. Wuthering what? Heath who?
He pushes my closed book towards me.
“Perhaps you would like to stand up, and read Chapter Twenty One?”
“Oh, that’s okay. I’ll sit if that’s alright.” I say quickly.
He grabs my chair. “I insist.” He pulls my seat away as I stand up.
Oh, great.
I bluster my way through the chapter, and am about to sit down, feeling quite relieved that the ordeal is over with.
When...
“Not yet. Now that you’ve read it, and know where we are now. Perhaps you would care to enlighten us with your own thoughts on their relationship?”
Hmm, it doesn’t sound like a question. I take a deep breath, and rattle off what I think about the two characters. Other kids are snickering, as I stammer and turn red.
“I can’t believe he did that to me!” I complain to Mitchell as I wait in line at the school canteen.
“What were you doing? It’s English, you’re supposed to be studying, remember?” Mitchell says, as we look at what’s on offer today.
“I know that.” I reply testily, as I pick up a plate with what looks like chicken and pasta on it in a big clump.
“I’ve got a lot on my mind, that’s all.” I say as I raise it to sniff the grey gloop. Hmm, not today. I put it back and grab a turkey sub instead.
“You don’t have to take everything on your shoulders. We’re here to help, remember?” Mitchell says, and gives me a don’t be silly look, and picks up the meatballs and spaghetti.
I can’t explain how I feel to them. They don’t get it. They didn’t see Miss Wheeler get shot, or see Zack get blown to pieces.
This was personal. I had to get justice for my friends. I had to. No matter what it takes. I will scour the Earth looking for the man responsible. I just smile, and grab a can of Cherry Coke, and put it on my tray. The others are already waiting as we head over and set our trays down.
“Hey, guys.” I say.
“So. Did you guys check the latest YouTube video, yet?” Paul asks and grins.
Before we can respond, he has his cell phone out, and is showing Stuart and Beth.
“So that’s what you were blabbing about.” Beth says and rolls her eyes.
“That’s actually pretty cool, Paul.” Stuart says, and pats Paul on the shoul
der.
Paul hands his cell to me, and beams with pride.
“Yes, I finally showcase my skills.” Paul mutters under his breath as I replay the video.
It shows the crowd of security guards running into an invisible barrier, and then the shooting starts. People are screaming and ducking for cover behind tables and slot machines.
But the person filming the incident on their cell phone creeps out from behind a pillar, and continues filming. The bullets also hit the invisible barrier, and then bounce off and fall to the floor. I see Paul in his magician’s costume standing in front of the closed door, with his white gloved hands held up. He’s grinning.
“You’re grinning like an idiot.” Mitchell notes, and Beth smirks.
“Come on. You got to admit, that’s pretty cool.” Paul says.
“Yes, Paul, it’s very cool. Well done for not getting shot.” I say.
“Damn straight.” Paul replies, and tucks into his cheeseburger.
“Any ideas on why a movie producer would be involved in any of this?” Beth asks as she takes a sip of her lemonade.
Cosmic Girl Rising Up Page 18