2041 Sanctuary (Dark Descent) (49 page)

Steiner, unwilling to even bother striking up a conversation with his unwanted companion, took it upon himself to inspect the communications equipment Samson had retrieved from the military outpost. Engrossed in the task, he suddenly became aware that they’d stopped moving and the truck was now parked just down from a nightclub where revellers queued up outside, waiting to gain entry. The large building bore a huge sign, the letters lit up in deep shades of purple and blue, proclaiming it to be
The Asteroid Club
.

Steiner glanced at Samson. ‘I take it your man at the casino didn’t have what you were looking for?’

The colonel slipped the vehicle out of gear and switched off the engine. ‘He did – information. The owner of this club has what I need.’ Samson made to get out of the car, but paused when Steiner stayed in his seat. ‘I need you with me this time.’ Samson’s words were spoken as if they’d been dragged out of him by means of torture.

‘No, I think I’ve caused us enough trouble for one day. I’ll stay here.’

Samson made a strangled noise, exhaled and looked down at the floor, fighting hard to keep control of his temper. ‘You come when you’re not wanted and stay when you are. You’re testing my limits, old man. Now get out of the damn truck!’

Steiner shook his head but did as requested. This time he put on a plain green baseball cap that had been poking out of one of the sacks on the back seat. Pulling it down low to hide his face, Steiner followed the tails of Samson’s overcoat as he took the lead, walking past the line of young folks looking to dance their troubles away.

The entrance to the club boasted four huge searchlights, their intense ice blue light tracing great circular patches of illumination on the dark clouds above. A deep thumping beat pounded from inside the building, the energy of the sound waves palpable through the pavement – even outside. Eight enormous bouncers stood guard on the door, herding people in and out two at a time. Samson approached one of the men, leaning forwards and speaking into the man’s ear to be heard over the noise of the music. The bouncer shook his head. Undeterred, Samson continued his verbal barrage, his stance becoming aggressive, which only served to bring four of the bouncer’s colleagues to his aid. The five doormen arranged themselves in a formidable semi–circle around the marginally smaller figure of the colonel, the breadth of whose shoulders were accentuated by the armour cladding he wore under his coat, making him appear even more powerfully built than he was. The fact that the bouncers thought they needed five of them to quell one man showed how seriously they took Samson’s physical threat.

Steiner hung back and watched, wondering what Samson would do as he held his ground against the overwhelming odds.

The sound of a high-powered sports car tore Steiner’s attention away to the road outside the venue. He recognised that sound; a V8 engine. A dual tone MKII Ford GT40, one of Steiner’s all-time favourite sports cars, came roaring into view. Iconic and timeless, the stunning black and chrome machine came to a stop adjacent to the entrance. Enclosed by super wide tyres, each sidewall displaying an immaculate white
Goodyear
logo, lavish, deep-dish alloys sparkled in the light. The front doors opened and out stepped two tall and incredibly beautiful brunettes, long, silky legs accentuated by revealing clothing which made Steiner feel chilly just to look at; and look he did, as did others in the queue. Cameras flashed from all directions as previously unseen photographers gathered around the two women, who glided up the steps and on into the club. Celebrities, Steiner assumed, his eyes drawn back to the car, which was now being attended to by a lucky valet.

Steiner felt a hand grab his arm. It was Samson, directing him back to the pick-up. Steiner looked back; two of the bouncers watched as they walked away. Inside the Dodge once more, Samson punched the dashboard, leaving a large dent.

‘Perhaps there’s a back way in?’ Steiner said, never thinking he’d ever be trying to give Samson any words resembling support.

Samson didn’t reply. Instead he delved once more into his supply of red pills, throwing a small handful into his mouth and chewing down with speed. Sticking the truck into gear, he reversed against the flow of traffic, sending other cars dodging out of his way and honking their horns in protest.

♦

Lucy Marshall had worked in the exclusive Asteroid nightclub for two years. She enjoyed her work. Free drinks were a perk, plus she got to know the DJs and the bouncers, which gave her a certain status amongst her peers as being part of the in-crowd. From time to time she even managed to get into the VIP area where all the top stars came to party on a regular basis. The Asteroid Club had been Vegas’ top nightlife venue for years now, attracting only the best clientele. It was the place to be, the only place to be if you were someone of note. People who were somebody went to the Asteroid, and people who wanted to be somebody went to the Asteroid. That’s all you had to know.

Lucy worked in the VIP section on the front desk and cloakroom, and she’d just that moment received a pair of delicate and extremely expensive jackets from two of the world’s top models, Asilina Salerno and Atalanta Varushkin. The two women now waited for their special gift bags, provided to all such guests by the Asteroid’s owners. Chewing her gum in time to the thumping uplifting dance music, Lucy picked out two of the bags from underneath the counter and gave them to the picture-perfect brunettes.

A loud noise and shouting made the two models look round towards the entrance, and Lucy also peered with interest through the haze of the smoke that seeped down from the main part of the club, an effect laid on once a week for the
Impact Night
promotion. She heard screaming, and ten doormen came steaming out of the main building to rush outside. The noise seemed to go on for ages. Through the huge windows that made up the front of the foyer, Lucy saw the great floodlights blink out as if someone had turned the power off. A small crowd had gathered around the cloakroom and one of the models, Asilina, walked elegantly to the doors to see what was happening, at which point she screamed. Out of the haze a shadowy figure emerged, its glowing green eyes quite frightening to behold.

The man, if that’s what it was, shimmered and shifted as it moved, the smoke and light distorting around it in an abnormal way, making it appear to slip into the background from whence it walked. Heavy metallic footfalls clanked on the marble flooring as it passed by, the people parting like the sea before the prow of a mighty ship. Hushed cries and whimpers could be heard over the music. People shrank from its passing and Lucy stood transfixed when the ghostly eyes turned in her direction, before it was gone, only the disturbed smoke testament to its existence.

Lucy, suddenly wondering why the doormen had not returned, rushed from behind her desk. Outside the front entrance the sight that greeted her was disturbing. Around twenty bouncers lay on the ground, some struggling to rise while others lay still, barely moving. The press of people that had been waiting to enter the club had moved back some fifty feet, as if giving whatever event had transpired room to unfold.

Lucy bent down to one of the injured, a brick wall of a man called Delmar whom she knew well, and one she’d never seen beaten and bruised like he was now. ‘What happened?’ she asked him, momentarily distracted when a small old man with a beard, wearing a baseball cap, walked up the steps and into the building.

Cradling his left arm, Delmar groaned. ‘Something, came out of nowhere. Didn’t get a good look at it. Whatever it was, it was strong, really strong.’

Lucy soothed him as he let out another cry of pain, the sound echoing the mournful and emotive police sirens responding in the distance.

♦

Professor Steiner picked his way past the sprawling forms of the nightclub’s doormen and made his way inside. The display put on by Samson had been both terrifying and awe inspiring, as he cut his way through the men like a razor-edged scythe through grass. Granted, the colonel had the advantage of being armoured and camouflaged, but still one couldn’t help but be impressed by the speed and skill on display as he took down twenty men built like blocks of granite. Part of him had been hoping the colonel would fail, while the rest knew he had to succeed, for the sake of those in Steadfast.

The fracas outside appeared to have had no effect on the people at the bars and on the dance floor, the partying continuing unabated. The interior of the club was so loud Steiner was finding it difficult not to put his hands over his ears for protection. Samson was nowhere to be seen and Steiner pushed his way through intoxicated men and women in an attempt to head upstairs for a better view of the vast dance floor and surrounding areas. Finally, reaching the first floor, Steiner entered a section marked
VIP Lounge
. He assumed large men normally prevented general riff-raff like himself from entering such sections, but seeing as Samson had taken out what had to have been the majority of such guards, he was able to swan in like he belonged.

This area, like the rest, heaved with people. Steiner felt dizzy and disorientated as the music thumped, the lights pulsed and the strobes flashed. Finding a chair amongst the press of hot bodies he sat down, attempting to get his bearings and regain his faculties. Before he could settle, a breath of air on his neck made him shiver and he turned to come face-to-face with a beautiful woman on a stage, bending down towards him, her face and movements sensual in the pulsating strobe. Standing up, Steiner realised to his intense embarrassment the young lady was stark naked and gyrating provocatively towards him as he watched, mouth agape. Someone caressed his arm and he looked to his left where another woman had appeared, similarly dressed – or not, as was the case in this instance. Eyes wide, like a rabbit in the headlights, Steiner felt heady, intoxicated even; it was a long time since his pulse rate had been increased thus. With the rapidly rhythmic lights hypnotising him, Steiner felt a large hand clamp down on his shoulder from behind, breaking the spell. Looking round and then up, he saw two green glowing eyes and the sporadic image of Samson’s armoured body, appearing then disappearing, on and off, on and off, in the flashing white lights surrounding them.

Samson pressed a button on the side of his helmet to reveal his grim face. ‘No time for sightseeing, Professor. I need you to see something.’

I’ve seen enough already
, Steiner thought to himself as one of the naked dancers blew him a kiss goodbye. The two men, now in the middle of the dance floor, found themselves in bright, constant lighting as the thumping percussion ceased, to be replaced by an uplifting vocal section of the song. Everyone in the area put their hands in the air and cheered. The lights dimmed and a single pulse of strobe lighting flashed out, accompanied by a booming beat. The baseline gradually kicked back in, the music rising to a crescendo as the lasers and strobes in combination drove the people into a frenzy. Steiner thought,
if I was forty years younger, I might be tempted to join in
, as it is was, however, he just wanted to get away from the relentless noise.

After Samson and Steiner had broken free of the crush, another obstacle arose in front of them in the form of eight doormen pushing through a pair of double doors. Samson moved Steiner behind him, reactivated his armour and then launched himself at the nearest man. Steiner watched while Samson’s indistinct form, transformed into some kind of ethereal demon, dispatched the men arrayed against him in quick and brutal succession until only he remained standing. Ignoring a crowd of shocked spectators, the colonel beckoned Steiner onwards, and the two men disappeared into the rear of the building where the offices were located.

Samson opened and closed doors until he found the one he desired. Steiner, following him into a brightly lit area chock full of crates and boxes of all shapes and sizes, was relieved to hear the music fade when the heavy door swung shut behind him. To the left, fifty feet away, a man – most likely the nightclub’s owner – stood behind a desk, the gun in his hand pointed at the colonel.

‘The police are outside!’ The man exuded fear like dark smoke from an oily fire. ‘There’s no escape!’

Samson walked towards him and the man’s weapon discharged, sending a bullet ricocheting from Samson’s armour and off into the room. Steiner ducked for cover. The armour clad figure of the colonel bore down on his hapless victim and three more shots rang out before Samson knocked the weapon away with the back of his hand. Grabbing the man by the hair, his other hand clasping his jaw, Samson lifted him off his feet with pure, brute strength.

‘I was told you have some computer equipment, some
special
computer equipment,’ Samson said to his struggling prisoner as Steiner approached warily. ‘You will show me where it is immediately. Do you understand me?’

The man nodded as best he could with the colonel’s fingers clamped around his face.

‘Good.’ Samson let the man go. ‘Where?’

The Asteroid’s owner rubbed his sore face with one hand and pointed with the other to the corner of the room, where a door lurked in the shadows. Samson grabbed the man and kicked him forwards with a steel shod boot.

‘Are you out of your mind?!’ Steiner said after they’d passed through the doorway to descend some stairs. ‘You complain I nearly get us caught and then you pull a stunt like this, probably bringing half the Las Vegas police department down on us!’

Samson looked at him. ‘Relax.’

‘Relax! How can I relax?!’

An unresponsive Samson moved into the basement and through into another room, hastily unlocked by their prisoner, leaving Steiner to simmer in a melting pot of his own fury.

‘There.’ The owner of the club indicated a metal cabinet against the far wall. Samson stormed over to it and ripped the doors open with such force that one came off in his hand; he threw it aside with disdain, the thin metal panel crashing to the floor.