Lost In Vegas

by Ian Jones

Robert was big, but Stefan intimidated him. He was also tall although Robert stood a couple of inches higher. He had a shaved head and smiled a lot, but they never reached his eyes, which always stared out coldly. Siberian by birth, he had a short temper and was vicious when provoked. Robert repeated the story of what had happened at the airport again, he couldn’t do or say anything to make it sound any better so he kept it short.

  While he talked Pablo sat back in his chair and looked up at him. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing; Robert was supposedly the muscle, the one sent when intimidation was top of the list. If they needed to scare some guy who was causing problems they would send Robert. Well, that sure needed a rethink. The guy was a fucking disaster area. Black eyes, covered in blood and puke with his arms at weird angles and hands swollen up like balloons. Pablo had listened enough.

  ‘Robert how big is this guy?’ he asked, picking up a letter opener off his desk and cleaning his nails with it.

  ‘Not too big boss,’ Robert admitted.

  ‘And how big are you?’

  ‘Six-six, but ….’

  Pablo held up a hand cutting him off. He looked at Stefan as he spoke.

  ‘So, you work for me as a fixer, right? My man who nobody would dare to fuck with. You’re the guy who frightens the living shit out of the fucker who’s trying to screw me, just by fucking standing there, you don’t even need to fucking speak, that is how it works am I right?’

  ‘Yes boss, but …’

  ‘Hear me out for Christ’s sakes. I get a call. You’re going to get a visitor. Well, thank you very much for the information, that’s the shit I pay for. But of course I ask, is it gonna be a problem? I get told no way Pablo, not for you. You the man Pablo, nobody gonna fuck with you and get away with it. But that’s another thing I got to fucking deal with altogether. But I’m warned, and that means I gotta deal with it. Same shit every day. So this guy, John fucking Smith is gonna show up in our town, and needs to be spoken to. So Stefan says to me hey no problem boss, I’ll send Robert and Jimmy, that’ll work. You can forget about it, they’ll sort it all out. I think, yeah, that’s a good decision; Jimmy never shuts the fuck up anyway and Robert is bigger than a house. If that doesn’t change the guy’s mind then we’ve got problems.’

  Pablo breathed out loudly and stared at Robert, who knew he had to say something but couldn’t think what. The pain was getting worse by the second.

  ‘Boss, I don’t know what happened,’ he mumbled vacantly.

  ‘I’ll tell you what happened you dumb shit. We’ve got problems. That’s what fucking happened. You let me down, the pair of you did.’

  ‘Boss, Jimmy said …’

  ‘And that’s another thing where the fuck is Jimmy,’ interrupted Stefan.

  ‘What? I dunno. I came round and they were both gone. And the car. You gotta listen to me, he caught me out, he kicked me in the balls Stefan, I never saw nothing after. He fucked me up bad. I thought Jimmy must of ran outta there.’

  ‘If he did he ain’t answering his phone, and he ain’t been around here. I’ve had Tony and Skinny out everywhere looking for him, so that’s more fucking time wasted.’

  ‘Stefan I swear to you. I don’t know where he is. They was gone when I came round. I don’t know how long I was out. I couldn’t do nothing.’

  Stefan turned and walked away, and leant on the wall next to Pablo, both men staring intently at Robert. There was silence for a while, apart from the murmur of the hotel outside the office door. Robert became more and more uncomfortable, not just due to his injuries.

  Eventually Pablo leaned forward and rested his elbows on the desk. He attempted a smile.

  ‘So, Robert, why don’t you tell me all about the guy,’ he asked, conversationally.

  ‘I swear boss, he’s just a guy. You wouldn’t look at him twice.’

  ‘Just a guy. What is he James Bond?’

  Robert shook his head miserably.

  ‘I don’t know boss. He just looks, well … he looks like nobody. I mean, well, you wouldn’t notice him.’

  Pablo sat back again and sighed.

  ‘Got anything else to tell me?

  Robert squirmed even more, but he had no options left. He had to break more bad news.

  ‘Yeah. Pablo, I didn’t know but, he took … he’s got my gun.’

  ‘Jesus Christ! You kept that quiet.’

  ‘He got my phone too. And Mac’s money.’

  Pablo angrily swept the crap he had on his desk onto the floor and stood up fuming.

  ‘Get the fuck outta here. Get to the fucking hospital. Die. Whatever.’

  Robert nodded and turned, unable to open the door. Stefan walked across briskly and pushed him from the room.

  Pablo slammed his hand down on the desk and looked up at Stefan who tried to calm him down.

  ‘I know what you’re thinking but don’t do it Pablo. Robert’s always been loyal right? He’s useful.’

  ‘Not right now he ain’t.’

  ‘He’ll get fixed up. Seriously, we need everyone we got right now. What with New York and all.’

  ‘Forget New York.’

  ‘I can’t Pablo, the shit is in the wind, we need to be real careful.’

  ‘Fuck that. I got worse problems, and now Mac didn’t get his ten G’s. Another fucking cashflow problem that I don’t fucking need. Do I got to do everything myself?’

  Stefan looked at Pablo. He had been with him a long time now, and had never once seen him get his hands dirty, he left everything to everyone else. And what had happened to Robert, and most likely Jimmy really concerned him, it had been way too easy. It looked like this John Smith, whoever the hell he was, had just kicked their asses like it was nothing at all, like it was a walk in the park. Pablo hadn’t seemed to have appreciated that, just looking to blame Robert for what happened. Stefan had been seeing storm clouds gathering for a while now, and today’s events had just made it worse.

  ‘We need him Pablo,’ he repeated, softly.

  Pablo breathed deeply.

  ‘Ok. Have it your way. It’s your funeral. Get him up to Mercy.’

  ‘Ok Pablo, back in half an hour.’

  ‘And find John fucking Smith. He’s somewhere, I want him found. Priority.’

  As he walked through the door Stefan looked back at him seriously.

  ‘Yeah Pablo, he could be anywhere. This is a big town.’

  Pablo glowered back.

  ‘So? It’s our town. Find him, it can’t be that hard.’

  ‘Pablo, we are real short on numbers. I only got Skinny and Tony, and they ain’t happy.’

  ‘Like I care. Shit, offer them a bonus or something. We don’t need to pay it. Fuck them.’

  ‘We don’t know nothing about this guy, who the hell he is Pablo. We need to find out. I never seen Robert take a beating, and he is in a bad way.’

  Pablo played with his mobile phone and said nothing.

  ‘It’s all down to that fucker Richard Cromwell, he did this. But yeah, get someone on it. See who he is,’ he mumbled eventually.

  ‘I could call Leon?’

  Pablo looked away.

  ‘Maybe. Last resort I guess. Whatever. Get it done.’

  Chapter Five

  John slept well and was in the gym for seven. He did a hard workout and had a long shower, then wandered totally lost around the enormous Mandalay Bay hotel until he found a restaurant that did breakfast. He planned his day, so far his first visit to Las Vegas had been interesting but he still had absolutely no idea where Abby was. Jimmy had not been able to help much. He now knew for sure that Pablo was involved, this had been proven by the reception he received at the airport and subsequent conversation with Jimmy. At some point he would have to face Pablo but it could wait. He had watched the Acropolis for a couple of hours last night but had seen nothing of interest. He reached into his pocket and took out the pass key. Technically he was a resident of the Acropolis so had every right to be there, but wandering around behind the sce
nes was asking for trouble now. He still didn’t know exactly who or what he was facing, or the manpower involved. Pablo could have any number of guys looking out for him. He decided to take a look around Planet Hollywood and try to find the apartments. Then it would be a good idea to get to know the lie of the land, take a proper look around, work out where everything was, he only needed to concentrate on the strip for now.

  Pablo had not slept well. Frustrated and angry by the events of the day he had got his driver to take him to Honeys around midnight, but his mood worsened when he saw the place was practically empty. Nothing was going right, and Honeys was losing bucket loads of cash, money he didn’t have. As usual he had the pick of the girls working but he had other things on his mind. He drank half a bottle of scotch in the office and then got taken back to the Acropolis, to get woken up by a call at seven to say Jimmy had turned up. He had been found lying at the roadside on the city limits by a drunk driver who stopped for a pee. He was in the Memorial Hospital, but nobody could see him until nine o’clock.

  He went up there with Stefan, Jimmy was in the same state as Robert, but in his case he was already in plaster casts and drugged up on painkillers. He also had a pair of black eyes, and peered sorrowfully out of almost closed lids at them as they entered his room.

  ‘I’m sorry boss,’ he murmured, wanting to get it over with.

  ‘Robert told us all about it. It sounds like bullshit to me. What’s your side?’ Stefan asked him.

  Jimmy told them everything, embellishing the desert side of the story to appear more heroic. John Smith had no choice but to break his arms. Jimmy was busting him up.

  Pablo and Stefan looked sceptically at each other. Robert stood six-six and weighed over 200 pounds, Jimmy stood five seven in heels, and weighed about seventy. As usual Jimmy was chattering away and Pablo interrupted him with a wave of his arm.

  ‘Yeah, yeah. Just shut the fuck up, he done the same to Robert so your bullshit goes nowhere. Tell me something Jimmy, what did he take off you?’

  There was no avoiding it, Jimmy told him about the gun, phone and wallet but didn’t mention the pass key as nobody knew he had it. There had been a lot of fuss made recently about the odd theft here and there from guest’s bedrooms and Jimmy had been as outwardly shocked as everyone, his outrage had impressed even the most cynical. Best to keep that quiet he decided, he was in enough trouble. Besides John Smith wasn’t going to come to the Acropolis, was he? Fuck that. Jimmy was suddenly glad he was in hospital.

  ‘You two really fucked up Jimmy, you know that? Pablo told him.

  Jimmy said nothing, then started gabbling again about how it wasn’t his fault, he had done exactly what he was told.

  Stefan silenced him with a look.

  Jimmy laid there, watching, not knowing what to do or say.

  Nobody spoke, then Pablo and Stefan left the room and stood outside. Neither man was happy. This John Smith was a loose cannon, and now he had two 9mm weapons on his side. And ten thousand dollars of their money. The intelligence they had received had been worthless; none of this had been anticipated. John Smith was supposed to be nothing, a nobody, just some guy who was after some quick cash. They had no proper warning and now they had absolutely no idea what to expect next.

  Pablo stood shaking his head and staring around. Stefan stood next to him patiently, he knew better than to try and talk or say anything at all to make the situation appear any better so he stayed respectfully quiet.

  ‘I tell you Stefan,’ Pablo said eventually without looking at him. ‘Someone is gonna pay for this shit. We should have been told this guy was gonna give us these fucking problems in the first place. You should have gone to the airport yourself, you fucking know that don’t you?’

  Stefan held his hands up, no point is trying to argue. Pablo would never have agreed to him leaving to do that, he was just trying to blame somebody, as usual. But stay quiet, just weather the storm.

  ‘No question Pablo. My fault. I’ll get it sorted.’

  ‘Yeah, well.’

  Still shaking his head Pablo walked away down the corridor, Stefan frowned and followed him.

  In the car heading back to the Acropolis Pablo remained quiet. Stefan drove and didn’t say anything either, waiting for whatever rash statement would come out next.

  Pablo sat irritatingly tapping his fingers on the dashboard in front of him, then made a decision. He would get in first. Attack was the best form of defence in his eyes.

  ‘Ok Stefan. I want this guy found and quick. He’s somewhere in this city. Get whoever you need on it and start calling in some favours; find out what hotel he’s at. This ends and it ends soon. I’m serious Stefan, find the motherfucker, we don’t need this shit, and I want my fucking money back.’

  John stood outside looking at Planet Hollywood. The hotel was essentially three buildings; the original hotel and from what he could understand two big buildings of time share apartments further behind. These stood tall and gloss black and were set apart. They had security desks at the lobbies; John went in each with the photo of Abby but drew a blank in both, and he believed it was genuine. He walked north up the strip, just following the road, gradually the hotels thinned out and got less grand. Once beyond the Stratosphere the area suddenly lost its shine altogether. He carried on heading north, past the fast food outlets, the wedding chapels and the bail bondsmen and eventually reached old Las Vegas, where he took a look around Freemont as a tourist before heading back. He chose to use the monorail from the SLS, but as he crossed the road he saw a billboard for Honeys so he decided to take a diversion to take a look for himself. It was about a half mile off the strip, at the end of a line of grey single-story boxy plain storefronts opposite a similar grey concrete apartment building and an almost identical motel alongside. In the line there was a shabby Italian restaurant, a lawyer’s office, a nail bar, a laundry and Honeys. There was a big sign fixed the roof which stated ‘Honey’s – The best nightspot in Las Vegas! Exotic beauties inside!’ From its appearance, this appeared to be misleading. He walked around the area, at each end there was an access road to a dusty square parking lot behind, which was empty apart from a couple of rusting sedans side by side in one corner. Beyond to the east there was a veterinary hospital and then some kind of small industrial park. He walked back around the front and looked at Honey’s which was distinctly unimpressive from the outside and walked up to the doors, they were closed but the outer grilles were pulled back. What the hell he thought and pulled on the door which opened with a creak. Inside it was dark; the windows were all painted over. There was a greeting stand by the door but nobody there. The stage replete with shiny poles was to his left and there was a mess of tables scattered around everywhere. He could see a horseshoe bar in the middle where a fat guy with a red face was tidying up some glasses, so he wandered over and ordered a beer. The guy looked at him surprised but pulled one anyway. A girl in hot pants and way too much make up sashayed across to the bar from out the back somewhere, and sat on the stool next to where he stood looking coyly at him.

  ‘Pablo around?’ John asked, to neither one in particular.

  The fat guy looked at him, but the girl answered first with a shrill laugh.

  ‘At this time? No fucking way!’

  The fat guy laid a baseball bat on the counter and looked at him, then placed a glass mostly full of froth on the counter.

  ‘Beer’s on me pal. Now drink up and fuck off,’ he said mildly.

  ‘Do you want my number?’ asked the girl.

  With a smile John drank up and fucked off. He had seen all he needed to; Honeys was low rent; for the working man and the lonely. Why Pablo would have this place when he had the Acropolis was anyone’s guess. He headed back to the SLS and the monorail and once he had worked out how the ticket system operated headed south.

  He got off at the Bally’s exit and experienced the whole crazy trip through a casino to leave the monorail station. Back on the strip he headed south again on foot. He dec
ided to take another look at the Acropolis and as he approached he saw a panel van pull in with ‘AC Elevator Service – Service for Life!’ written down the side. It gave him an idea so he followed the van round to the loading bay where it turned a full circle and stopped. Two men jumped out, one was a young man and the other a lot older. They opened up the rear doors of the van and began getting tools out so he made his way over.

  He spun a yarn about a girl he had met who had gone off with someone at the hotel and he was trying to find her, which cut no ice but two hundred dollars of Pablo’s money did the trick. They had a root around in the van and wearing a battered grubby AC Elevator T-Shirt over his own and matching baseball cap he picked up a tool bag and followed his two new friends to the security check in. A minute later and they were in the hotel. Once inside he followed the men through the building to a faulty elevator, where they pressed some buttons ineffectively and then travelled in a working one all the way up to the top of the hotel where the motors were kept. They had a key which got them access to the roof. While they went into one of the many small huts that were dotted around John did some exploring. He quickly worked out which window was his in the Mandalay Bay opposite, and then headed over to the penthouse keeping behind anything he could find as cover. There were big glass windows all the way around with clay brickwork in between, and a gently pitched roof. What he couldn’t see from his hotel window because the penthouse obscured it was a garden complete with lawn and a swimming pool. Cautiously he moved round to the rear of the hotel building. There was a low wall which ran around the roof and he could see in the far corner some kind of gate, which John assumed was a fire exit. Long way down if that was ever needed in an emergency. Because of the bright sunlight it was impossible to see through the penthouse windows so John kept undercover, but he got a good idea of the layout. He re-joined the technicians as they left to go back down and asked about the penthouse. Apparently, it was only built in the last few years and accessible by a single dedicated lift which ran from behind the Reception desk, but John knew there was always the fire escape, not that he was keen to try that route anytime soon. Back in the hotel the two men got on with repairing the lift so John told them he was off to try and find his fictitious girlfriend, confident they hadn’t believed that yarn in the first place but not interested in the slightest. He was pleased to discover nobody took any notice of him as he wandered around with the tool bag and his AC Elevator clothes. He went back into Reception which was as busy as ever and casually wandered over to a door at the far end of the long counter. He tried the pass key and the door lock immediately glowed green so he pushed it open. He was in a large open plan office. Everywhere there were desks with computers and people working clicking away on keyboards and on the phone. Again, they took no notice of him. He crossed the room where there was a line of small partitioned offices at the far side and reached another door. He took a couple of seconds to turn and scan the room. At the opposite corner there was another door which he guessed would exit into Reception at the other end of the counter from the door he had entered through. It was basically just a big square with no windows. He turned back and using the pass key went through the door. Now he was in a corridor with doors either side. There were labels on them; ‘Accounts’, Finance’, General Manager’ etc and he carried on. The corridor turned sharp right and then ended at a frosted glass panel door. Once again, his key worked. He was back in another corridor but there were no labels on any of the doors here, they were all plain, austere wooden doors giving nothing away. Just in front of him one suddenly opened and a lump of a man in a dark suit came out. He glanced at John and then strode past. John carried on. The corridor ended at a lift with the doors standing open. He walked in and looked at the panel. There were only two buttons; ‘G’, which was lit, and ‘P’.