Now Ricci turned to Omar. “Leave her alone. You will devalue her.”
“You think I care?” Omar fumed. “All my men — captured or dead.”
“Get a grip. You will have to spend all that money yourself now, no? All that remains is for you to keep your head and get away. I will help you.”
Crouch found the pounding was easing up now and looked up at the inflection of tone in that last line. It wasn’t nice, but Omar missed it, focusing on the cash.
“All right, we will help each other. Just the casino and then we’re out of here.”
He righted Terri and took a look at her neck. The gash he’d purposely made wasn’t too large and had already congealed over. Terri stayed quiet as he adjusted her coat and pulled the collar up to hide the wound. Then, he glanced over at Crouch.
“Stand up, soldier.”
Crouch had been faking it, bent double in a corner of the elevator, scribbling a quick note, breathing as if his throat was still on fire, and he now rose with an apparent effort. “I’m fine.” He decided to lean against the side of the elevator, resting against the sign that somebody had positioned there.
Omar hauled him around and checked for injuries. “A bit crimson around the gills, but he will pass.”
Crouch made sure he stayed with his back to the sign.
Ricci nodded as he watched the floors flash by. The elevator only stopped once, and the man’s violent glare was enough to stop anyone from joining them. In less than a minute it had reached the casino floor.
“Remember,” Ricci said. “You will both obey. If I am forced to chase you or if I lose you, my men and I will kill every innocent person in sight. That will be on you.”
Crouch heard the words of a madman and knew he spoke the truth. Ricci was far beyond the real deal and into the realm of lethal fanatic. When the doors slid apart he stood and waited for Ricci to give the order.
“Get out. My men will bring the banner last.”
They walked steadily through the casino, the noise of slot machines growing louder and louder. He was terribly aware that there was nothing more he could do. Not now. The note had been planted, but it was touch and go whether Alicia and the team would figure out where to look for it. They were inside a casino, for God’s sake; every surface was gold!
But… the surveillance cameras might help.
He stayed central along the path, wandering nowhere. An incessant dinging drowned out his thoughts; someone winning at the slots. Similar noises assaulted them from every direction. Crouch saw the watchful glare on Ricci’s face and knew he was simply waiting for the FBI agents upstairs to get in touch with the security downstairs. Every muscle was a coiled spring, the fists clenched just waiting and wanting to be unleashed.
They were three quarters of the way through the casino before blood began to spill.
* * *
Terri found the worst of all possible problems plaguing her mind.
Did Cutler have even the slightest chance to help me too?
There had been a moment, a split-second that she just couldn’t shake, when Cutler broke away from Omar’s shadow and then… right then… had almost appeared to lean toward her. Had he been about to throw himself into the fray? Had warning bells sounded at the very last instant?
Did he make a choice?
Ordinarily, she’d say no. It wouldn’t matter so much, and she’d be able to brush it under the table. But today was different — today was all about clinging on to life.
She replayed the moment over and over in her head, but it had happened all too quickly. The problem was — she had seen something and now needed to refute it.
The descent in the elevator flashed by. The fact that her neck was bleeding barely registered. Her head was in a different place. Damn Cutler. She’d chased and chased him, halfway across the world, from country to country and through dangerous cities — helped him out with a violent gang — and was now a marked and hunted woman. Part of her knew that Ricci would ensure she was sold to the old gang. Part of her knew he’d prefer to sell her to some slave trader. He was a cruel, violent man with no sense of humanity.
And Cutler… did you leave me here to save yourself?
The sheer hell of the idea made her legs go weak. It was only then that she realized they were walking through the casino. She heard slots jangling everywhere, and the shouts of winners and losers. The yelling of tourists. The low rumble as a money cart rolled by.
She turned introspective again. It didn’t matter now, this new, horrible reality. If the man she had sacrificed her entire life to be with had just sacrificed her, then almost thirty years of living mattered for nothing.
Crouch? The old soldier was at her side. Had he planted the next clue? She couldn’t remember in that moment where they were headed next. Yet again, Cutler broke her down. She recalled Omar flinching as she feigned an attack, hoping to make him lose focus or make a mistake. The flinch had given Cutler such a small window of opportunity, a mere extra meter of space. The American had fallen himself, grabbing a side-bar, but that fall had opened up the escape route that little bit further.
It was then he darted for freedom, but somehow Terri had seen his entire body pause in mid-flight as hesitation set in; she had seen the eyes flinch in her direction but not quite make it all the way around; she had seen some instant decision to carry on. It passed in the blink of an eye, but it had been there.
Fundamental.
Set in Cutler’s psyche as firmly as the need to draw breath. The American had always looked after himself — even from the very beginning. Terri recalled her old quest, but now wondered if she’d been duped her entire life.
Pain wracked her body. Nothing physical. She tried to put it aside, tried to focus on the moment. Wasn’t this their best chance of escape? Who cared, right? Well… Crouch seemingly did.
Warning shouts burst from every direction.
* * *
Crouch saw the security guards coming even before Ricci did. As usual though, they shouted their cautions way before they should and gave Ricci all the warning he needed.
The banner-bearers, as Crouch thought of them, took a good hold of their burden, put their heads down, and ran for the exit. Ricci met the first guard that came up to him, grabbed the man’s wrist and wrenched his baton away. A quick flick and the guard’s face exploded with blood; the baton suddenly sheathed in the stuff. The second guard swung his own baton from a high vantage point. Ricci parried it and then swiped his own three times across the man’s ribs before he could take a breath. Bones broke, and the man collapsed.
Omar jabbed his box cutter at Terri’s throat and then beckoned Crouch. The one surviving merc backed him up. They picked up speed as the doors approached. Another guard hustled in from the right. Ricci barely broke stride as he relieved him of his Taser and sent him shuddering uncontrollably to the floor.
Crouch found the time to admire Ricci’s fighting prowess. Special Forces training was obvious, but it was something else too. Something even more advanced — an elite form of combat that only the best aspired to.
They burst out of the doors, dashing toward their vehicle. Crouch saw two black vans angled across the road a hundred meters to the right suddenly start to disgorge both men and women.
FBI agents.
It was looking good. He counted at least twelve, all armed. Surely that would be enough to take these bastards out.
Ricci saw it too, probably faster than Crouch. He sprinted on, passing his men carrying the banner, jabbing furiously at a remote that eventually triggered the tailgate release of a large black Range Rover. By the time he skidded around the back of the car, the trunk was wide open.
Crouch kept pace as Omar jabbed the box cutter at Terri, nicking her now for the third time. It was no accident, and Crouch saw how Omar would love to permanently injure her. It was written all over his face.
The banner-bearers staggered on, drawing close to the Range Rover. The FBI agents started to run, spreading out,
shouting their cautions but unable to shoot for fear of hitting civilians.
Ricci had no such compunctions as he swung a wicked, black semi-automatic rifle that Crouch recognized to be a Dragunov SVD — a shortened variant with folding stock — out of the Range Rover’s rear compartment and toward the approaching agents.
Without any warning he opened fire.
Even Crouch flinched as the weapon started to make a thunderous deadly sound in the casino parking lot, bullets screaming through the warm morning air. Unprepared agents took shots to the chest, head and legs, sprawling in all directions as Ricci sprayed the area without restraint. Most dived to the floor or scrambled behind cars and walls and even hedges. Ricci didn’t let up once as he retreated around the side of the large vehicle, taking cover but maintaining the upper hand.
The banner was shoved through the tailgate, balanced across the rear seats, folded almost in half to make it fit. The men who’d been carrying it practically collapsed with exhaustion as they finished, but somehow managed to climb inside the car.
Omar forced Crouch into the back, squashing his face against the banner and making him fold his body so that it fitted. The other merc practically threw Terri in beside him.
“Get it started!” Ricci yelled.
Omar and his remaining mercenary now regarded the trunk, which was the only place left with some room. Crouch looked through the far door and saw Ricci firing the semi-auto with one hand as he pulled out a small handgun with the other. The front of the casino was littered with bodies, the wounded and the dead. The façade was pockmarked with bullets and smashed windows. The FBI vehicles were badly damaged.
Quickly, he threw the Dragunov onto the floor and raised the handgun. Crouch ducked. He heard the words: “You betrayed me. Brought the cops to my door. This is what I do to traitors.”
Two shots rang out. Crouch looked up in time to see Omar and his colleague shot through the head and falling backward.
Ricci jumped inside. “Now, go.”
CHAPTER THIRTY ONE
Alicia saw the doors that marked the casino’s exit right in front of her. At that moment they exploded, glass shattering toward her face. She dived to the right, rolling among slot machines, and felt Russo tumble right over the top of her.
“Damn it, Russo, for an asexual you sure like rolling on top of me.”
“I’m not fucking asexual.” Russo was on his knees. “Except when you’re around.”
Alicia leapt to her feet. “You got a girl then?”
“I got plenty.”
She grinned, but then couldn’t reply as her eyes took in the front of the casino and the awful scene outside. Ricci, it seemed, had been prepared for a violent escape. The agents that had just arrived had been decimated; for the most part wounded, but some were clearly dead. Alicia closed her eyes for just a moment, appalled at the violence and disregard for life.
“This Ricci… he has to be put down,” Russo growled.
“Yeah, and now he has Crouch… and Terri.” Alicia sighed.
“And the banner,” Russo said.
“Crap.”
Caitlyn and Austin came up to them. Alicia approached the front of the casino just in time to see the Range Rover disappearing out of the lot and across Las Vegas Boulevard. They were now presented with an abrupt choice.
Try to follow or search for the gold?
Her thoughts were echoed aloud by Caitlyn. Alicia remembered Crouch’s own words: Chase the gold. She told Caitlyn to get on to their FBI contact and smooth the way for them out of this mess, then looked around for Paul Cutler.
No way would she let the thief disappear in the chaos.
Cutler hovered around a row of one-armed bandits, shock carved into his features, but even more than that — a reluctance to face her.
“Come over here,” Alicia shouted.
The thief hung back. Alicia understood it was a tough place for him to be — the man was wanted in a dozen countries and a legendary criminal — milling amongst the FBI and other government agents, but assumed he would want to help.
“Oi! I need to talk to you.”
She waited for Cutler to make his way to her side, hoping to establish a bit of superiority. It was then that she noticed the haunted expression in his eyes.
“What is it?”
“You’re the people who’ve been chasing us, right? Trying to save us?”
“Yep. That’s us. Part of Crouch’s team.”
“Yeah, yeah, the old guy. He seems a capable dude. I–I don’t…”
Alicia saw time slipping away. “Spit it out. We’re short on time here.” As she spoke she surveyed the casino, the hunkered down tourists and locals, the wary police officers, the agents with tears in their eyes. She explored the path that meandered from the elevators to the exit door; the slot machines close by. It was a big area in which to locate a small clue.
“I can’t be sure if I decided to save myself, and not her. I… don’t… know.”
Alicia focused on his eyes. “What?”
“Terri, my partner. It all happened in less than six seconds. I don’t know if I could have saved her and let them capture me instead.”
Alicia saw by his unwavering gaze, by his open expression, that he was telling the truth. “You can work that out later. Right now, I need to know everything. What do you know?”
“The terrorist guy, the one with the black designer trim is called Ricci. He’s a brutal, capable guy. His men are loyal, unquestioning. He did have a lot of men with him; I didn’t see who died. The other guy — he’s called Omar and he’s leader of the mercenary crew, the one that hired us to… you know.”
Steal the Star-Spangled Banner.
“I know.”
“Well, they either betrayed us or decided on the spur of the moment to use us. Your friend, Crouch, seemed positive they would sell us to the highest bidder. Terri helped cause a few distractions so that he could plant clues for you guys to follow.”
“But where are they going?” Russo butted in. “Where are they going now?”
Cutler hung his head. “I didn’t catch any of it. Yeah, they were talking a while in that room, but I was focused on looking for a way out. I wanted Terri and me out of there.”
Alicia wondered briefly if that were true. He didn’t hear any of it? How could saying that help him now? She inclined her head. “And Crouch?”
“Him too. Obviously.”
“You heard nothing?”
“I heard something about Hawaii. That’s it. I saw them glad-handing each other. As soon as we entered, and I saw those terrorist dudes, I knew our days would come to a terrible end. My head was full of half-formed plans.”
Alicia looked back into the Stratosphere, pondering the turn of events. Determination filled her being, despite the setback or perhaps because of it. She wouldn’t let Crouch go.
“Surveillance cameras,” Caitlyn said, finally pocketing her cellphone. “I’m told there’s a satellite office over there—” she pointed at a far wall where a white door stood unobtrusively “—and that we can view the feeds.”
Alicia led the rush to the small office, knocking and then crowding inside. They had to make Austin wait outside, just so they could keep Cutler with them and stop him trying to escape. Alicia wasn’t entirely sure which way he would run yet, but she knew the moment was coming.
“I have it set up,” a tech with short sandy hair and a Stratosphere-liveried T-shirt told them before punching a button.
Alicia watched the screen as Crouch and his captors exited the elevator. She saw Omar guarding Terri and Ricci watching, angled like a pro. Instead of focusing on the fight, she watched Crouch the entire time.
Five minutes passed.
“Dammit,” she said. “Bollocks and more bollocks. What now?”
“He never went near anything,” Russo mumbled as if to himself. “But he said…”
“I know what he said,” Alicia snapped.
“I don’t understand,” Caitlyn sai
d, staring at the screen and then the door as if wondering whether or not they could still catch up to the terrorists.
“Maybe the FBI can track them?” Russo said. “With traffic cams. That kind of thing.”
“It’s doable,” Caitlyn said. “But usually needs setting up beforehand. Camera tracking is essentially piecing together a ton of different images. Problem is, it can take hours. Or days.”
“A chopper?” the tech suggested.
“Let’s see what the FBI are doing,” Alicia said. For reassurance they watched the tape through again and then left the office.
Caitlyn called Merriweather to find out the name of the agent in charge.
Alicia cursed at the floor, at the wall, at the chiming machines surrounding them. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to be. Crouch’s clue should be an easy find. The fact remained that only a half hour had passed since Ricci’s escape — the frustrating part was that they still had a great chance of caching up to him.
Every second that passed lessened that chance.
Could someone have stolen or just taken the clue? Did Crouch drop it onto the floor? Where would the terrorists go next?
And what would they do with Crouch, Terri and the Star-Spangled Banner?
CHAPTER THIRTY TWO
They wandered the floor of the casino, despite all evidence to the contrary. They asked the staff if there were any machines around with the name ‘gold’ or ‘golden’, and found more than half a dozen. They were led to the Golden Slots, the Golden Tiger and the Golden Ball 777. It was a fool’s errand, Alicia knew, but it was an imperative one. One of the more talkative blackjack dealers told them that the Stratosphere was owned by Golden Entertainment.
That name struck a chord with Alicia, but she couldn’t figure out why.
Chasing Gold Page 14