A Wake of Vultures

by Patrick Kansoer

  “Thanks. Can I leave a wake-up call for five-thirty A.M. please?”

  “Sure thing. I’ll program it in right now. Wake-up call for room 121 at five-thirty A.M. Got it. Good night.”

  “Good night”, Loughlin said over his shoulder as he exited the lobby. Parking right by the room, he grabbed his travel bag and briefcase, made sure that the van was securely locked and settled in for the night.

  Tuesday September 26th. Loughlin had set the alarm on his cell phone for 4:45 A.M. and had already shaved and showered and was having the first cup of very bad motel coffee when his room phone rang with his wake-up call. Slipping on his inside-the waistband concealed carry holster and checking his Glock 17 before holstering it, he dressed in his chinos and a loose fitting golf shirt.

  Checking himself in the full length mirror to make sure his sidearm wasn’t “printing” under his clothes, he made one last survey of the room to make sure he had all his gear before went out to the van. As he was about to leave the receipt for his night’s stay was slipped under the door. He opened it to make certain that the charges were in order and slipped it into his briefcase as he left the room. It was still dark as he started the van and pulled around to the motel’s front entrance.

  Figuring he had a long day of driving ahead of him, Loughlin treated himself to a larger breakfast than he would have normally had; instant scrambled eggs, bacon, a buttered toasted English muffin a large tomato juice and another cup of spectacularly bad motel coffee. Finishing up his meal, he helped himself to a couple of blueberry muffins wrapped in napkins and four bottles of water as supplies to be consumed on the road. Passing the front desk on his way out, he dropped the room key card on the counter and waved casually to the uninterested desk clerk on his way to the van.

  Pulling out of the motel lot on his way back to the interstate the eastern sky was just starting to show streaks of pink and peach as dawn began to break. Traffic was very light to almost non-existent with the exception of a few over-the-road eighteen wheelers Loughlin had the interstate pretty much to himself as he headed toward Cheyenne.

  He figured that he should be able to cover the one hundred and ninety-three mile distance in about four hours which would put him into Cheyenne WY around 10:30AM if all went well. That would give him plenty of time to find the storage facility, make contact, load the rest of the merchandise and put another hundred or so miles behind him before pulling off the road for the second night.

  Traffic continued to be light as he headed westward at a steady sixty-five miles per hour. He was able to stay in the right lane and let the cruise control hold the speed for the most part and although the drive itself was boring it wasn’t difficult and Loughlin found himself coming into the outskirts of Cheyenne at about 10:15 AM. It was time to look for the turn off for the storage facility located on Wyoming state highway 212. It was also time to make contact with the seller’s agent to expedite the transfer so he could get the rest of his load and be on his way. He punched in the two-digit speed dial number on the burner phone and waited for a connection. It rang, eight, nine, ten times. Finally after what must have been the twentieth ring he hung up, puzzled at the lack of an answer. It was not like the folks he dealt with to not be ready to make contact at the agreed upon time. His forehead wrinkled in a combination of puzzlement and slight aggravation. He had a schedule to keep and the seller knew that.

  Within five more minutes he spied the sign for the route 212 interchange exit and tapped the brake to disengage the cruise control.

  Exiting onto the off-ramp he slowed to the stop sign while engaging his left turn signal. Rolling southbound under the interstate he saw flashing emergency lights ahead. “Some idiot must have gotten into a traffic crash”, he thought to himself. “Great. Just what I need. One more thing to screw up my timing.” As he rolled closer to the action, he could see that there were a number of police vehicles on the roadside on either side by the entrance to AAA Self Storage. The traffic had slowed while the usual gawkers and gaper slowed down to stare at the scene. It gave Loughlin the opportunity to realize that this was something out of the ordinary. Inside the gate to the storage facility were four black GMC SUV’s with police strobes flashing and Federal government license plates.

  Loughlin had seen all he needed to see and realized that he needed to keep rolling and hightail his ass out of there without drawing unnecessary attention to himself. Driving slowly past the assembled law enforcement presence, he continued south on route 212 which the signs now identified as College Drive for another quarter mile to Allison road where he could turn right. He followed Allison for about a half-mile to Energy drive where he pulled off to the side to consider his next move.

  He brought up the local Cheyenne map and saw that there was a Walmart Superstore about a mile and a half away. All he needed to do was take Energy drive back to College and make a left turn and follow College two miles to Livingston Avenue.

  Loughlin didn’t know exactly what had gone wrong, but he was certain that the rest of the merchandise was now no longer going to be part of the plan. His clients would be pissed off, but he could deal with that rather than risk any interaction with the law.

  He knew he needed to get a new burner phone and dispose of this one, so being careful not to draw any attention to himself or the rental van, he backtracked to the Walmart to replace his phone. Half an hour later he had the new burner phone in the van and hooked up to the mobile charger plugged into the cigarette lighter outlet on the dash. He would program it with the needed info on the old phone and dispose of it down the road somewhere. Loughlin reversed his direction and headed back to the I-80 interchange where he headed west once again.

  By now it was 11:30AM and Loughlin had made up his mind that he would put another five or six hours of driving behind him to get at least two hundred and fifty miles away from Cheyenne and whatever Federal trouble had taken place at the storage facility.

  He stopped for gas at about three PM and disposed of part of the old burner phone in the gas island trash can. One less thing to remember. One less thing to worry about.

  Six o’clock found Maurice Loughlin coming into Rock Springs WY where he saw a Super Eight motel sign ahead. He was tired and hungry and knew that what he needed was a clean room, a quick meal and a firm bed.

  The desk clerk at the Super Eight checked him in to a room near the back of the motel on the first floor near the back entrance. “Where’s a good place close by where I can get a decent dinner?” “Kinda depends on what you got a taste for mister. There’s a chain steak house about half a mile away that’ll serve you something edible or there’s a family place called Remedies just past the steak house over on Broadway. Nothin’ fancy but they make the best bacon cheeseburger in Wyoming with good crisp fries. If it was me I would go there. Prices are good and the food is worth it.”

  “Sounds like Remedies it is then”. Is there a convenience store where I can get a few bottles of water somewhere near?” “Why don’t you just take the water from the mini fridge in your room? It’s complimentary and that way it will be cold in the morning. There are usually six or so bottles and if that’s not enough you can grab a couple here at the desk in the morning when you check out.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate that. Can I leave a wake-up call for five AM too?” “When you get back from dinner and into your room you will see a card next to your phone. If you punch the “8” button you will get our automatic wake-up call system. Just tell it what time to wake you up and it will ring your room at that time in the morning. We don’t have much of a fancy breakfast here, but you can get a piece of fruit, a sweet roll and coffee or tea in the morning. It’s always laid out by five-fifteen or so.”

  “Thanks again for everything chief. I think I’ll drop my gear in the room and head out for dinner.” “Sure thing mister. Have a great night” and as the clerk turned back to the movie he was watching on his computer, Loughlin exited the lobby and headed to his room. Once inside he did a quick once-over. It w
asn’t a four-star establishment by any means, but it was clean, there were plenty of towels and the bed was firm. He dropped his bag on the luggage rack, adjusted the heat and headed out to find that Remedies restaurant. It wasn’t hard to find, just a little ways down the road from the Super-eight. Kind of a kitschy-looking diner trying very hard to look like something out of the old “Happy Days” TV show.; red and white tile, red plastic booths and the old-fashioned jukebox controllers at every table. Surprisingly at this hour he was the only customer in the place. That suited him fine since he neither needed or wanted company or conversation. He sat down and looked at the menu deciding to go with what the guy at the motel suggested.

  The waitress came to his table looking like a gal straight out of central casting. Cute, plump blond, early twenties with her uniform just a tad too tight and her cleavage showing enough to get Loughlin’s attention. “What’ll ya have sweetie”? “ I’d like the Remedies Burger, medium rare with all the trimmings, a side of French fries.” “Sure thing hon, would you like a side of cole slaw with that? We make our own slaw fresh every day and it’s pretty good.” “Yeah, that’ll be great. Do you hand dip your milkshakes or are they from a mix?”

  “All hand dipped, made with real ice cream and real milk. Thick enough to need a spoon to get it all.” “Sounds fine, I’d like a vanilla shake then to drink and maybe a glass of water.” “Comin’ right up sweetie”, she said and turned back toward the kitchen putting just a little extra swing in her hips. “Shame I have to keep on schedule”, Loughlin thought to himself. “That little gal would stir up the hormones in a marble statue.” A few minutes later, the little blond was back with a tray holding his shake, the can it was made in with the remains of the portion, two straws and his glass of ice water. “Here ya go hon”, she said bending over his table just enough to show off a generous view of her impressive breasts. “If you see anything else you would like, just let me know”, and with an exaggerated wink turned back toward the kitchen. His burger and fries appeared about ten minutes later and it was every bit as good as the guy at the motel had said. The patty was cooked to perfection with just enough char and caramelization, the bacon was crisp and smoky, the cheese melted just enough, the lettuce, tomato and onion slice fresh and the buttered toasted bun held it looking like a picture in a food magazine. The fries were fresh-cut and the slaw, just as the little blond had promised was homemade and delicious. He took his time enjoying the meal and when he was finishing up the waitress came back to the table. “Can I get you something for dessert hon? We have a piece of home-made cherry pie left”. “Nothing more sugar. I’m as stuffed as a goose. Couldn’t eat another bite, it was all delicious though.

  I’ll take my check when you get a chance.”

  “Got it right here hon”, she said laying the bill down in front of him. “We close in about an hour and a half, maybe I could show you some of the sights in our grand metropolis of Rock Springs.” “I’d love to sugar, but I have to be up and out early in the morning. Maybe I could have a rain check for the next time I’m through town?” “Yeah, sure, whatever”, she huffed just a bit in disappointment. “I’ll be your cashier when you’re ready.” Her demeanor brightened a bit when he fished a twenty and a ten from his wallet for the twelve dollar check and said; “Keep the change, sugar. Everything was perfect and I really do have to be out early in the morning.” “O.K. hon, I understand. And, yes, you have that raincheck the next time you’re through Rock Springs. My name is Tina and I work Wednesdays through Sundays. You have a safe trip now and come back to see me.” Loughlin dropped the other half of the old burner phone in the trash can by the door as he left to go back to the motel thinking about what could have been and knowing he would most likely never be able to take Tina up on that raincheck.

  Back at the Super Eight, Loughlin set the wakeup call on his phone, took ten minutes to wipe down and lightly oil his sidearm, took a quick hot shower and hit the bed allowing himself a few minutes to remember Tina, her willing come-on and her impressive cleavage.

  Thursday, September 27th.

  Unusually, Loughlin slept until his phone rang with his five AM wake-up call. He wasn’t sure if it was the fatigue of the cross-country driving or unremembered dreams of the well-upholstered Tina that caused his deep slumber, but once he answered the phone and the jangling stopped he realized that he felt quite refreshed as he sat on the edge of the bed allowing himself to come to full consciousness.

  Thirty minutes later, after shaving and brushing his teeth, getting dressed and making certain that he had all of his gear packed and ready to roll, he removed the six bottles of water from the mini-fridge and placed them in the laundry bag the motel provided and was ready to start the day. He stowed his bag and the bottle of water in the van and drove around to the lobby entrance where he dropped the keycard at the desk and helped himself to an apple, a banana and a cheese Danish for a quick morning snack.

  He decided that since he was just under 585 miles to Vegas that he would make the trip in one twelve hour shot instead of taking the extra day on the road as he had originally planned. It would give him an extra day to relax and enjoy the casino before his business was transacted on Sunday.

  The drive through the southwest corner of Wyoming and then the eastern part of Utah made him wonder exactly what it was that caused Joseph Smith to decide that what Smith called Deseret was the place that the angel Moroni led the Latter Day Saints to believe it was promised land. Forbidding, barren and inhospitable would have been a more appropriate appellation in Loughlin’s opinion.

  Sid Fleer’s official title was Vice President of Customer relations. In the casino he was known as “The Whale Hunter”. It was Sid’s job to shepherd the high rollers while they were staying at the resort. To make sure that their every wish was taken care of no matter if it were comping a particular suite of rooms; having the hotel’s executive chef cook a gourmet dinner or providing ladies of negotiable affection for an evening’s entertainment.

  All of this to encourage the high rollers to gamble more in the casino. Want to sing duets with Tony Bennett, play tennis with Andre Agassi, he'll even comp the wife's $10,000 shopping spree - just as long as hubby's prepared to shed $250,000 on the blackjack table.

  Maurice Bernard Loughlin was no stranger to Sid Fleer. Over the past three years he had been a regular. Not a whale, but definitely a high-roller dropping anywhere between $10,000 to $100,000 in the casino over his normal three day stay.

  He usually showed up on the weeks that there was a gun show booked in the convention center and Sid believed him to be a serious collector. He was due in this Saturday for a two-day, so Sid was surprised when Loughlin called Thursday morning around 9:00AM.

  “Hey Sid, Maurice Loughlin here. How are you my friend?”

  “I’m well Mr. Loughlin. We are looking forward to seeing you this Saturday. We have a suite reserved for you on the 32nd. Floor.”

  “Sid, I’ve had a bit of a change of plans and I need a favor, if you can accommodate me. My schedule has been moved up and I will be arriving in Vegas sometime around six-thirty or seven o’clock tonight. Would it be possible to arrange for my suite to be available for an extra two nights, say tonight and tomorrow as well as Saturday, Sunday and Monday? Because of the change I’m hoping to spend Friday at the casino. Probably not tonight though, unless it’s for just a short time. I’ll have been driving all day and feel pretty beat.”

  “I’ll sure do what I can Mr. Loughlin. Can you give me about half an hour to make arrangements. I’ll call you right back.”

  “I’ll have to call you Sid. I had some problems with my regular phone and I’ve got a temporary loaner. Also, would it be possible for you to arrange for my use of the private elevator and have Johnny the bellman assist me with some things I need to move into my room?”

  “The elevator and Johnny will be no problem at all. Like I said, give me a half hour to make sure I can extend your use of the suite. Call me back around 9:45 am if you can an
d I will have the answer then. Is there anything else I can arrange for you tonight of tomorrow?”

  “Nothing that I can think of Sid. If I think of anything, I’ll let you know. I’ll call back around 9:45 AM. I sure hope you can help me with this.”

  “Shouldn’t be a problem Mr. Loughlin. You know I’ve never let you down in the past. I’ll look forward to hearing back from you.”

  “OK, ‘bye Sid”, and with that the connection was broken.

  Since Loughlin was one of Sid Fleer’s regular high-rollers, he had no problem having the hotel move the current guest in the suite to another accommodation with the story of a maintenance problem that required them to vacate. They were easily mollified with an equivalent suite, comped dinners for the rest of their stay and ringside tickets to the headliner show in the showroom for their “troubles”.

  When Loughlin called back at 9:45 AM Sid assured him that all of the arrangements had been made and that he could pull his vehicle around back to the loading dock where Johnny would be waiting for him with a dolly truck to help move what needed moving through the dock and onto the private service elevator which let out directly across the hall from his 32nd. Floor suite.

  Loughlin settled in for the mind-numbingly boring drive down to Vegas stopping once to get gas, once to grab a quick soda and sandwich at a roadside quick-stop and once in the middle of nowhere to get out, stretch his legs and take a leak.

  By 6:45PM Loughlin was rolling down the boulevard toward the Mandalay Bay. Following the signs that said “Delivery entrance-Trucks only” to the loading dock he saw Johnny waiting there for him.

  “Welcome back Mr. Loughlin, good to see you again.”

  “Good to be back Johnny. I’m afraid I’ve got some heavy stuff to take to the room this trip. Did you bring the four-wheel truck?”