by Cassie Cole
Eddie appeared through the door to the bathroom hallway. “Psst,” I said, and he came running over.
“You see anything?”
“Nope. We have to go down there.”
Eddie shook his head. “You need special badge access to get to S3. Access which I don’t have.” He paused. “But I can get it. Stay here and watch for them.”
“I’m on my way back,” Bryce said.
“No!” I said. “If you come inside you’ll get popped by the cameras.”
“What do you expect me to do? Sit out here doing nothing?”
I could hear the anguish in his voice. I knew how he felt because I felt exactly the same.
Helpless. All of us were helpless right now.
We’re coming, Sage, I thought.
49
Eddie
I ran as fast as I could without attracting too much attention. Security guards, especially the special ones that guarded the most important parts of the casino, couldn’t sprint down the hall without drawing curious eyes.
“Stay where the fuck you are,” I said into my hand. “There’s literally no way you can help us by getting recognized and thrown in a back room.”
“Then we’d be rescuing two people,” Xander said. “And you’re not as cute as Sage.”
I didn’t know how he could make jokes at a time like this. We didn’t have the money. One of our teammates was stuck with Yegorovich and would likely have her cover blown. And then she would be tortured or killed.
And we didn’t have a good plan for dealing with that.
I ran into the bathroom and went to the last stall, shoving it open without checking. Thankfully Rob was still inside, cheek pressed against the porcelain.
“Hey…” he croaked. “Did you get something for my stomach…”
I grabbed his ID badge and then removed his gun holster. He was too weak to try to stop me. “Sorry about all this. Go back to sleep.”
I backtracked toward the stage, holding the spare gun inside my jacket so nobody could see it. When I arrived I found a guy in a wheelchair arguing with Xander.
“I’ll do the sound check later,” Xander was saying.
“There is no later! The show is in 25 minutes!”
I stepped in front of him. “This is Volga security business. Please leave this area.”
He looked me up and down. “Who do you think—”
I let the hand holding the gun hang at my side. “Please leave this area.”
He nodded and wheeled himself away faster than I’d ever seen a wheelchair move. When he was out of sight I handed the gun to Xander.
“What the heck am I supposed to do with this?”
“Whatever we need to.”
He held it away from him like it was a snake that was about to strike.
“Don’t tell me you’ve never fired a gun before.” His pause gave me my answer. “You have got to be kidding me. What kind of a cowboy are you?”
“The kind who pulls a guitar string, not a trigger!”
I sighed and showed him how to hold it, then turned the safety off. “Just point and squeeze. Hopefully it won’t come to that.”
But what else should we expect?
We were going down into a hostile situation. We had guns. Yegorovich’s guards had guns. Best case scenario we got Sage back up to the ground floor before being accosted by the rest of Yegorovich’s guards. Worst case scenario we got into a shootout down on S3.
Worst case scenario Sage is already dead.
Sage’s safety added urgency to our actions. We couldn’t stop to think of a better plan, or call the police and wait for them, or any other option because Sage would probably be dead by then. We had to go now, dangers be damned.
The service elevator opened and I aimed my gun. Empty.
We slipped inside and scanned the badge in front of the reader before pressing the S3 button. The doors closed and the hidden elevator machinery hummed to life.
“Dear God in heaven, please see us through this…” Xander was mumbling to himself.
This was going to be a disaster. One former cop and another untrained guy who was more likely to shoot himself in the foot than be of any use. I was smart enough to recognize it would go poorly but not smart enough to think of a better idea.
“When the doors open you stay in here,” I said. “Hide behind the door for cover. Try not to shoot me in the back.”
“I’m not tryin’ to shoot anybody!”
“We’re not going to have that luxury.”
The elevator dinged when we reached S3. The door slid open. It was a mostly empty warehouse filled with crates here and there, with the huge vault from the blueprints dead ahead.
Nobody was here.
Gun held out in front of me, I stepped out of the elevator.
I stopped.
There were two men to my left and one to the right, all with guns drawn and aimed. I might be able to throw myself sideways and squeeze off a shot or two before they cut me down. Maybe.
Instead, I let my pistol go slack in my grip, then dropped it to the floor and raised my hands.
“Xander, drop your gun. They’ve got us.”
One guard came running up. “Shut up! We give the orders!” He kicked my gun away and then aimed at the elevator. “You! Drop your gun. We have you.”
I heard the same metallic thud of another gun hitting the ground. The guards tied my hands behind my back with zip ties and then removed my ear piece and ring.
Huh. How’d they know about those?
A deep laugh echoed through the room as Yegorovich appeared from around a stack of crates. One guard led Sage along with him. Her makeup was smeared and she was sniffling. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” she said.
“It’s okay.”
Yegorovich clapped his hands in mock applause. “You did an excellent job in your heist attempt. Wait. Where is the fourth? The getaway driver in the rental truck?”
Shit, he knows everything. I said nothing.
Yegorovich raised a finger like an idea had struck him. “Ah hah! He is remaining outside because he is blacklisted. The card dealer who assaulted one of my men.” He gestured and the guard holding Sage handed him a ring. Yegorovich held it up to his mouth. “Excuse me. Mister getaway man. We have your three comrades. Please turn yourself in to the nearest Volga guard and join our little party. If you are not here in five minutes Sage will die.”
Don’t do it, I thought. They’re going to kill us anyway. Save yourself, Bryce.
I hoped he was smart enough. Probably not. I doubted I’d be able to leave us down here if the roles were reversed.
I never saw the blow that hit me in the side of the head. Everything flashed white and yellow like fireworks and then I was on the ground, groaning at the pain in my arm and temple, and when I tried to get to my feet a boot struck me behind the knee.
“No!” Sage screamed. “Stop it! Leave them alone!”
I had no way to defend myself so I curled into a ball as best as I could and prayed for it to end. Kick after kick struck me in the ribs, legs, head. I heard similar grunts from Xander behind me.
Please don’t hurt Sage, was the thought on which I focused. Let her get out of this unharmed.
Eventually the blows stopped. The guards rolled me over onto my back so I could look up at Yegorovich who was staring down at me with hate in his eyes.
“YOU THINK YOU CAN STEAL MONEY FROM US!”
He punctuated that with a kick of his own, straight into my ribs. It was softer than the guards’ blows, but I was pretty sure I had a few broken ribs already. I found Sage over to the left and focused on her. Trying to tell her with my eyes that everything was going to be okay.
Sweet, comforting lies.
“Not only have you stolen from me,” Yegorovich said, “but you have stolen from Deripaska! And Prokhorov! And Vekselberg! Each of us more powerful than any man here in America! You fools!”
He snapped his fingers and turned away from me. “Tell the
m to make the actual delivery. I must return to the tournament soon.”
The guard pulled out his walkie talkie and spoke in Russian.
“Please,” I begged while I had the chance. “Please don’t kill Sage. She had no real part in any of this. She was just a pawn. A stupid waitress who didn’t know anything about anything.”
I could see the pain in her eyes. Hopefully she would understand what I was doing, that I didn’t really mean what I said.
Yegorovich adjusted his white suit and waggled a finger. “Do not lie to me. I have been listening to your special little conversations for weeks. She was instrumental in the attempt.”
“Why?” Xander groaned behind me. “If you’ve known for weeks we were going to rob you, why let us get this far?”
He shrugged. “I wanted to see if you could pull it off. Revealing my weaknesses, yes? We have kept security light to avoid arousing suspicion for such deliveries, but it appears we must now throw subtlety to the wind and place armed guards all along the route. Thank you for this… this…” He snapped his fingers when he thought of the phrase. “Gut check! Thank you for this gut check on my casino.”
A guard punctuated that by kicking me in my gut, knocking the air from my lungs. For several excruciating seconds my diaphragm refused to move, giving me the sensation of suffocating. Finally I gasped as my lungs expanded and filled with sweet, sweet air.
“Please let her live,” I begged again. “Do whatever you want to us but don’t kill Sage.”
Yegorovich frowned. “I am not going to kill you.”
“Really?” Xander said.
“Of course not. The money you attempted to steal belonged to Oleg Deripaska. When the helicopter arrives with the real money, it will take you back to the airport where you will board a private jet. From there you will visit Deripaska in our wonderful motherland to answer for your crimes. Then he may kill you.”
Xander groaned.
“Deripaska owns most of the aluminum and steel smelting facilities in Russia. He takes great pleasure in pouring molten metal over his enemies and watching their bodies melt like butter. The flight to Russia is long. Think on this during the journey, yes?”
Well shit. This is just terrific.
I couldn’t believe Yegorovich had known all along. That we’d walked right into a trap. All of our mistakes stung right now, but most of all I hated that I’d pretended to be a dirty cop for nothing. That was something for which I would never be able to forgive myself.
That and what was going to happen to Sage.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered one last time before closing my eyes.
50
Sage
It was not easy accepting that we had failed. That the plan was doomed from the start without us knowing.
It was even harder seeing two of my partners beaten before my eyes.
I screamed and cried and sobbed while the guards beat them. Yegorovich taunted us, explaining how we were going to be sent to Russia. I didn’t care because I didn’t hear him. All I could focus on was Eddie and Xander writhing in pain on the floor.
Eventually they put us over in a corner while they waited for the real money delivery. A guard stood a few feet away with his gun aimed in our general direction.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
Eddie’s sigh held a lifetime of regret. “You did nothing wrong. Hell, you played your part perfectly. We were fucked from the start. I’m the one who is sorry, Sage.”
“It’s okay.”
“No,” he said. “I mean I’m sorry we ever involved you in our stupid plan. You’d be free right now if not for us.”
He was crushed while he looked back at me, tears in his own eyes. Or maybe they were just glazed over from exhaustion and defeat.
I shook my head. “If not for you guys I’d be serving drinks to asshole gamblers and begging for tips. Struggling to scrape a living in my normal life, let alone my real dreams and ambitions. Choosing which bills I could afford to put off paying, scraping enough money together to afford dresses for gigs and new shoes and food, trying to afford enough food that I didn’t go hungry. That’s not freedom, Eddie. We failed, but you guys gave me a real shot at a better life. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“I guess that’s one way to look at it,” Eddie said, but I could tell my words had helped.
“I don’t want to go to Russia,” Xander said. His head was leaned back against the wall and his eyes were closed. “I hate the cold. That’s why I chose to live here.”
“Buddy, the cold is going to be the least of our problems,” Eddie said.
Across the room Yegorovich was complaining to his guard. “I must return to the tournament. I cannot delay forever.”
The service elevator started humming as it went back up to the ground floor.
“Good,” Yegorovich said, crossing his arms while he paced.
Xander snorted. “Maybe it’s Bryce coming to rescue us.”
“Oh yeah,” Eddie said. “He’s going to go all John McClane on their asses.”
“Yippee ki-yay motherfucker,” Xander said. He swung his eyes to me. “Don’t tell me you haven’t seen Die Hard.”
“Afraid not.”
“Add it to the list after Indiana Jones,” Eddie said with a chuckle.
“The more movies you add, the more rom coms I add to my list,” I said.
“That’s a fair trade.”
It was all harmless banter. The fantasy that we would get out of here to ever watch another movie. A defense mechanism to keep us from the crippling reality that we were all totally, hopelessly fucked.
I hoped it wasn’t Bryce coming down the elevator. I hoped he got away so he could live his life, playing poker somewhere warm. I wished I could have played more games with him.
The elevator stopped and the doors opened. Sure enough, it wasn’t Bryce. Part of me was disappointed by that.
But it was someone else I knew.
Angela strode forward in her Soviet waitress uniform, a tray of drinks balanced on her fingertips. “Hello?”
A guard said, “The fuck are you?”
Angela didn’t see us. In fact, she was focused so hard on Yegorovich that it was almost like she was avoiding looking in our direction.
“I was told to come down here…” She gestured at her tray.
The guard sighed and walked toward her. “Honey. You need to turn around right the fuck now before…”
He reached for her but she was quicker, tossing her tray of drinks into him. Different colored liquids sprayed in the air. Angela ducked and her fists flashed like lightning, striking the guard in the chest and gut. Before he hit the ground she pulled a gun from up under her skirt and held it out with both hands.
“FBI! Throw down your guns!”
Three more people came running out of the elevator where they’d hidden. I recognized them too: Carli, the waitress who usually had the shift by the door who I’d swapped with one time. Then came Conductor Hat from the second poker table, and one of the college bros from the first table. They all had their own guns drawn and badges displayed on their hips, shouting their own commands at Yegorovich and the guards.
What the heck is going on?
One gunshot rang out, then two more, and then the room fell apart in chaos. Angela threw herself behind the nearest crate. The other three FBI agents—FBI agents holy moly—did the same before returning fire with their own weapons.
Gunshots were loud. Painfully loud. I covered my ears but already there was a ringing sound underneath everything.
Eddie nudged me with his foot. “We need to get behind cover. We’re exposed out here!”
I pushed to my feet along with Eddie and Xander, then we crouch-ran over to Angela’s set of crates. She ignored us while stealing glanced around the edge.
“What are you doing here!” I asked.
She answered without looking. “Bringing down the largest money laundering operation west of the Mississippi. What are you doing down here?
” She fired three shots with her pistol without waiting for an answer. “You three need to get the fuck out of here!”
I’d never heard Angela curse. That shocked me as much as everything else happening around us.
“How? Run to the elevator and get shot?” Xander asked.
Conductor Hat screamed, “FBI! THROW DOWN YOUR WEAPONS!”
“Yes, the elevator!” Angela said. “You’ve got a clear angle. We can cover you.”
“All this time,” I said, dazed. “Locked in your room on the laptop. Private phone conversations while the shower ran. I thought you were having gross phone sex with Bart!”
She twisted to look at me. “What part of get the fuck out of here do you not understand?”
“Hey Angela!” the college bro looking kid yelled from his cover. “See all these crates? I told you they’ve been moving money since they opened!”
“Yeah yeah.” She glanced at me again. “Get moving before it gets bad in here. Covering fire!”
The staccato sound of their guns increased as we got to our feet and sprinted across the room. I waited for a bullet to kick me in the back, ending it all like a guillotine swipe.
We fell into the elevator and scrambled to the sides where we were protected. Eddie twisted around to show me his butt and tied hands.
“Grab my badge! In my pocket!”
I obeyed and waved it in front of the black RFID scanner, then pressed G for Ground Floor. A bullet bounced off the back of the elevator door, making the three of us duck our heads and yell. A horrifying indentation was left in the shiny metal.
“Yegorovich!” Angela screamed. “Throw! Down! Your! Weapons!”
Then the doors closed, shielding us from the chaos.
51
Bryce
The few minutes sitting in the truck, deciding what to do, were the longest of my life.
I knew it was a trap. Sage, Eddie, and Xander were going to be killed no matter what I did. Going back didn’t help anyone, and only served to seal my own fate.
But I couldn’t just drive away and save myself. I’d be leaving them to die. My friends. My partners.