Tricks and Traps (Gray Spear Society Book 7) (33 page)

He struggled to regain his focus. He looked across the room and noticed four men sitting around a table playing poker.

Jack was good at poker. He was even better at cheating at poker. Here was his opportunity to turn his small stack of cash into a large stack. Of course, cheating at cards in a casino was a dangerous way to live, but he was past the point of playing it safe.

He flexed his fingers. He got up and walked across the room. The poker players looked up as he approached.

"Gentlemen," Jack said, "mind if I join you?"

The dealer wore a black suit that looked like a waiter's uniform. "Hundred dollar buy in," he said, "ten dollar ante."

"That's fine."

Jack pulled a chair from another table, and the players made room. He handed over what was left of his cash. The dealer gave him a pile of poker chips in return.

Jack nodded to the other gamblers at the table. A big, stern man wore the uniform of a security guard. Another player had an expensive business suit. The last wore blue coveralls, and a tool belt was hung over the back of his chair.

"I was told this game is usually for casino employees," Jack said. "Do all of you work here?"

"Yes," the guard said. "What happened to your hand?"

Jack looked at his wounded right hand. "Playing a little too hard."

The guard had a disdainful expression.

"I've been wondering. You guys are around the monkey machines all day, but you don't seem to care. How do you resist the urge to play?"

"We take a pill," the man in blue coveralls said.

The others gave him a hard look. He ducked down and blushed.

"What kind of pill?" Jack said.

"Never mind," the security guard said. "I came for poker, not talk, so be quiet."

The dealer dealt hands to everybody.

Jack settled himself down. The most important element of playing poker well was patience. It was also necessary for cheating. Winning too much too soon was a great way to arouse suspicion.

He played normally the first two hands and lost a little money. He wanted to make the other players comfortable.

On the third hand, he received a king. He didn't have much else and eventually folded. Just before returning the cards to the dealer, he tucked the king up his sleeve. It was a move he had practiced ten thousand times during his longs shifts in the security booth. He could perform it effortlessly.

The next deal gave him another king. He smoothly swapped the king in his sleeve for a jack in his hand. Now he was holding a high pair which was good enough to win a decent pot and put him fifty dollars ahead.
Like taking candy from a baby,
he thought.

* * *

Sheryl drove the car into the parking lot of the Pot of Gold Casino. She wasn't happy to be back. Aaron sat beside her in the passenger seat. He had still felt loopy when they had left headquarters, so she had taken the wheel.

"They have valet parking," she said.

"Don't use it," he said. "Always know where your car is."

It was Tuesday afternoon, but the parking lot was almost full.
Don't these people have jobs?
Sheryl thought.

She drove around the big casino. There were no girls in bikinis out front this time. Two guards in tan uniforms had taken their place, and they wore guns openly.

Aaron directed her to a spot in back that had open space on all sides. He made her sit and watch her surroundings for a minute before she was allowed to expose herself.

They finally stepped out into the hot summer air.

"Leave it unlocked," he said.

She gave him a curious look. "Why, sir?"

"So we won't have to fumble with keys if we're running for our lives."

She frowned.
I had to ask.

He was wearing loose blue jeans, a black pullover shirt, and a brown leather jacket. Mirrored sunglasses were a stylish touch. No doubt he had a small arsenal of weapons hidden under his clothes.

He had demanded she also dress for a fight. She had chosen a baggy green dress which was ugly and too heavy for the warm weather. Instead of her usual heels, she was wearing white sneakers. Three guns and a knife were concealed on her body. She had never carried so many weapons at once, and the weight felt strange.

Both of them also wore light Kevlar vests under their shirts. It was Sheryl's first time in body armor, and she didn't like it. The slick material trapped sweat and made her itch. It was hard to take deep breaths.

"What's the plan, sir?" Sheryl said.

"Find Jack and quietly stick a knife between his ribs," Aaron said.

"You're not going to talk to him?"

"Do I need to?"

"You worked with him for years," she said.

"This task will be dangerous enough. We'll be assassinating a traitor inside a heavily guarded installation. There's no reason to add extra drama. Ideally, he won't even see me coming."

She knew he was right, but his explanation still left her cold. It wasn't how these things were done in the movies.

The shadows on his face were darker than normal, and it wasn't a trick of the light. She would never get used to that effect. She was starting to grasp what the darkness meant.
We live in the shadow of death, figuratively and literally. Tawni can even control the shadows.

"You have two responsibilities," he said. "First, be the eyes in the back of my head. Second, cling to me like you love me."

She raised her eyebrows. "Why, sir?"

"Why do you think?"

She paused to consider. "Because a man with a woman appears less suspicious than a man alone."

"Correct, and which side will you stand on?"

"Your left, so I don't block your shooting hand." She was proud of herself for figuring that out on her own.

He smiled slightly. "You'll make a fine
legionnaire
. Ready?"

"Not really, sir."

"Let's go."

They began the long walk around the casino.

She was already sweating under her body armor. She shrugged in an attempt to make herself more comfortable. "This vest is the worst."

"You'll get used to it," he said. "When I was a police officer, I wore a vest all day every day."

"You were a cop?"

"Chicago PD. I was a detective at the end."

"Then you quit to join the Society?" she said.

"No, I was fired. It was a low point in my life, but it taught me something. Just doing the right thing doesn't always produce the results you want. You have to be smart, too. The successful heroes are the guys who know how to beat the system. They live to fight again."

"A hero never sacrifices his life, sir?"

"It's better to make the enemy sacrifice his life instead." He grinned in an unpleasant manner.

They eventually reached the front of the casino. They passed through giant golden doors and entered the first game room.

The glaring lights and loud noises made Sheryl wince.

"I hate this place," she muttered.

"Not nearly as much as I do," Aaron replied. "I can feel it eating my soul. Let's get into character and start searching."

She stood on his left and held his hand. His palm and knuckles had hard calluses which weren't pleasant to touch.

They moved swiftly through the casino. Every room was annoying and bizarre in its own particular way. It was hard not to become disoriented. The gamblers were playing the games obsessively, oblivious to their environment. A few had urine stains on their pant legs.

It took about twenty minutes to sweep the first floor. Aaron was walking so quickly Sheryl had to trot to keep up. She didn't complain though. She just wanted to finish this nasty business and get out of here.

They walked up a broad staircase to the second floor. It was a little smaller than the first floor but even more labyrinthine. It took the same amount of time to determine Jack wasn't there.

Aaron stopped and frowned.

"You're sure he's here, sir?" Sheryl said.

"Yes, unless the casino already kicked him out. That doesn't seem likely. I'm sure he brought plenty of money."

"You have money in headquarters?"

"It's in the closet in the back of the security booth," he said. "A million dollars in greenbacks and thirty bars of gold."

The large amount didn't surprise her.
That's petty cash for the Society,
she thought.

Aaron faced a narrow stairway leading to the third floor. A velvet rope blocked it, but the bigger problem was two beefy security guards in tan uniforms.

"We have to go up."

"I don't think they'll just let us through," Sheryl said.

"There are several good strategies for situations like this. Generally, I like to use a distraction to draw the guards away. A small explosion will work."

"You brought explosives, sir?"

He nodded. "A packet of C-4. You never know when you might need to blow something up. In this case, I'm leaning away from the idea. There are a lot of security guards in this place. Agitating them will be counterproductive. I want a quieter approach."

"I could talk to the guards."

"Go ahead. Be very charming. If you find yourself in trouble, raise your left hand. That will be the signal for me to save your ass."

"Yes, sir," Sheryl said.

In a crazy way, she was starting to enjoy working with Aaron. He was always thinking ahead, and there was no obstacle he couldn't handle. He was truly a commander worthy of being followed.

She approached the two guards. One had brown hair and the other was blond. Both men had thick beards.

She smiled prettily. "Hi, guys! What's going on upstairs?"

The guard with brown hair replied in a thick Russian accent, "The third floor is for VIPs and invited guests only."

"Who do I screw to get invited?" She winked.

"Please, move along, ma'am."

"But it's boring down here. All the games are the same. Little balls rolling around little tracks and hitting little bells. I bet there are parties upstairs."

"Not now," he said. "Just bigger and more expensive games."

"What about the top floor?"

"Management offices."

Sheryl pouted. "I could go up if I had enough money?"

"A lot of money. All the machines on the third floor take hundred dollar bills."

She wondered how much revenue this casino was generating. The numbers had to be enormous.

"Got it." She went back to Aaron and murmured, "If Jack is here, he's probably upstairs. That's where the high-rollers play. If we want to go up, we need to show them a pile of cash."

"There is a cashier downstairs. I'll just charge it to my credit card."

"I'm guessing your card has no limit."

"Money is an illusion. It's all just perception of value and numbers in computers, and the twins control the computers." He paused. "At least they did."

She patted his beefy arm. "I'm sure they'll be OK."

"They'll be exactly what God wants them to be. Let's get some money." He looked at the games around them. "I'm extremely eager to finish up here."

* * *

The jangling of the monkey machines was making it hard for Jack to focus. The noise was entirely in his head, but it was still very distracting.

He looked at the pile of poker chips in front of him. It had grown substantially since he had started playing. It was bad form to count chips at the table, but he estimated he was up four grand. With a combination of genuine skill and occasional cheating, he had steadily accumulated winnings. He wasn't done though. He wanted at least another five grand before he left the table and went back to the game room.

He also needed to eat. He was getting weak with hunger. Food just hadn't been a priority lately.

A big hand landed on his shoulder. He looked up at the scowling face of a security guard in a tan uniform. Two more guards stood behind him.

"Can I help you?" Jack said.

The guard grabbed his wrist and pulled a card out of his sleeve.

"How did that get there?" Jack said innocently.

"Stand up!"

Jack stood. The guards patted him down and found one gun under his shirt and another strapped to his ankle. They also took his wallet. Jack was helpless to stop them. He didn't have the fighting skills of a
legionnaire
, and the three guards were big men. Even if Jack managed to defeat all three, escaping from the casino would be impossible.

"Come with us."

"What about my money?" Jack looked at his big pile of chips on the table.

"It belongs to the casino now."

Jack's arms were grabbed on both sides, and he was escorted to an elevator. The group went up to the top floor. This level had straight, well-lit corridors like a normal office building.

The guards gave Jack a shove to get him moving.

"Are you going to call the police?"

"Not yet," a guard said.

"Then what are you going to do with me?"

Jack didn't get an answer.

He was taken down the corridor to a small room. There was a table and two folding chairs inside. A stainless steel toilet with no seat stood in the corner. The guards pushed him into the room and closed the door.

His side of the door had no handle. The only window was a small portal, and the thick glass was heavily reinforced with wire. Jack was in a holding cell.

He sighed.

He was now a prisoner without money or friends. There was nobody he could turn to for help. He would have to suffer with whatever punishment the casino decided to impose. The situation couldn't possibly get worse.

Jack realized that wasn't true. When Aaron caught him, it would get worse.

Much worse.

* * *

Sheryl was carrying the bag of money. Aaron had wanted his hands free, so the task had fallen to her.

A hundred thousand dollars in cash weighed less than she had expected. It was just a few pounds of hundred dollar bills. It was hard to believe it was worth the same as a luxury car.

They arrived at the velvet rope. When she showed the guards the contents of her paper bag, they immediately allowed her and Aaron to pass.

One guard escorted them upstairs. They arrived at a large waiting area with plush chairs and couches. Blue paint covered the domed roof. The quiet was a huge relief to Sheryl.