We both looked at her; we both hoped she would take a taxi. Paula actually whispered, “Please take a cab, lady,” as though willing her to do so. The cabs were lined up at the end of the parking lot, and three cabbies saw her staggering. One started up his sales pitch. Paula and I headed toward the casino.
A doorman greeted us, and the smell of cigarette smoke blustered out the open door on a ten-mile-an-hour breeze. Paula and I looked at one another.
“The smell just sort of hits you,” I said.
Inside, the casino teemed with agents. They were dressed inconspicuously, but it was clear that neither side was trying to bluff the other. We both felt we had a winning hand, and we were both laying our cards on the table.
“I am so in love with you,” Paula said.
It caught me off guard, but it made me smile. It felt good to hear her say that, and we stood there listening to the piano man’s music coming from the bar. I glanced at the timepiece, saw that we had a little under an hour, and so said, “Would you like something to drink?”
Paula said, “Yes. Maybe a soda . . . No, a martini in a chilled glass, if they have it.”
I leaned forward and kissed her on the lips, and it was exciting, as though we had never kissed before. She looked into my eyes and pulled me close to her.
She said again, “I am so in love with you.”
“I’ll be right back.” I pulled away from her and headed to the bar. I ordered a martini in a chilled glass and a coke. The bar was elevated from the floor of the casino, and while the barman prepared the drinks, I gazed out at all the slot machines, poker tables, and roulette wheels.
It was packed, and most people were dressed in black tie and evening wear. I carried the drinks to Paula, and I saw no less than a dozen men and women who looked like Banks’ agents.
“Have you seen Banks?” I said.
Paula sipped the martini, then said, “No, I haven’t, but the casino is swarming with agents.”
I nodded, sipped my coke, and said, “It’s a field trip.”
“Should we find our slot machines?”
“Let’s do it,” I said.
We began walking around the casino. A long line formed for the theater entertainment on the far side. We passed the restaurant and glanced inside. A crowd erupted in cheers around one of the craps tables.
“There it is,” I said.
Paula looked at the slot machine. “Number eight ninety-six,” she said. We saw the decal in the upper-right corner.
“It’s the ‘Rich Man, Poor Man’ slot machine,” I said.
Despite the fact that ninety-eight percent of the thousand slots inside the casino were occupied, Rich Man, Poor Man was not.
“It’s a fifty-mark slot,” Paula said.
“No wonder nobody’s playing it.”
A digital display atop the machine indicated the jackpot was at $23,217,093.
“Not a bad haul,” I said.
“Is there any way to know if this is the one that’s hooked up to the bomb?”
We both looked at the machine. I tried to peer around behind the machine. I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary about it. I sipped my coke. I noticed three different agents watching us from a distance. They were making no wild attempt to conceal the fact that they were watching us.
“Come on,” I said to Paula. “Let’s see if we can find the other one.”
We found slot machine number “417” on the other end of the casino. The Lucky Leprechaun stood alone amidst a bevy of video poker machines and offered a jackpot of $23,497,182 for pulling up three “lucky leprechauns.”
“What do you think?” Paula said.
“I think this might be the one.”
“Why’s that?”
“Call it a feeling,” I said.
“How much time do we have?”
The timepiece read: 00:37.18.
“Thirty-seven minutes.”
A jolt of adrenaline pulsed through my body.
We didn’t see Krönard until ten minutes were left on the timepiece. By then, I was nervous. And to make matters worse, Krönard was dressed in a Mickey Mouse costume.
He approached Paula and me with his white glove waving. His big helmet-like head bobbed.
“Here’s how we do this,” he said through the mask. “One of you is going to have to take a shot on one of the machines.”
“I’m doing it,” I said.
“If you lose, if you pick the wrong machine, all bets are off,” he said. “This place will be chaos.”
“And if we pick the right machine?” I said.
Mickey waved gleefully at a few people and then said, “Carry the stub to the nearest cashier. Divide the stub in two. You’ll want to cash out your half.”
Paula said, “Do you have a feeling about either of the machines?”
“I think the winner is the leprechaun,” he said. He stepped away from us.
I glanced at the watch. It read: 00:03.42. I looked at Paula.
“I’ll give you the stub,” I said, “after I win. You take it to the cashier. You divide it. I’ll meet you at the bar.”
“I’ll take up a position away from the machine.”
“Right,” I said. “I’ll hand the stub off to you.”
“We’re going to have to work fast,” she said. “You’ve got the fifty-mark bill.”
I touched my tuxedo jacket pocket. “Got it.”
“Good luck,” she said. “I love you.”
And with that, she turned and walked away.
I stood there alone for a moment and felt my heart pounding in my chest. My hands were sweaty. My mouth was dry.
Everything’s going to be alright, I told myself. Everything’s going to be okay.
The timepiece read: 00:02.02.
Two minutes left.
From where I stood, I glanced once at the Rich Man, Poor Man slot machine. There was no one in front of it. I turned and saw that no one was on the Lucky Leprechaun either. I cleared my mind, and then strode toward the machine.
I could feel the agents’ eyes on me.
I pulled up the stool in front of the Lucky Leprechaun slot machine, glanced once more at the timepiece, and removed the fifty-mark bill from my tuxedo jacket pocket.
00:01.13.
I inserted the bill. The machine went into its opening prompt. The screen flashed Touch Button To Spin. The “spin” button glowed white. The timepiece read: 00:00.52.
Fifty-two seconds left.
I was so nervous that I didn’t really have an awareness of anything else going on around me. Someone could have approached me and pointed a gun to my head, and I wouldn’t have noticed until it was too late. I just hoped that if I died, it would be instantaneous.
Ten seconds left.
I held my finger over the spin button and watched the timepiece count down the remaining seconds.
Five, four, three, two. . .
At zero, the timepiece started flashing. It kicked back up to ten seconds and started counting down. I had ten seconds to press the spin button.
My finger touched its surface, ready to depress it. I could feel its smooth plastic, and then I pressed it down. I felt it click.
And suddenly, there was an enormous explosion.
The sound of shattering glass erupted into the air. The percussion of explosives was instantly followed by people’s screams. A sound of coins spilling out all over the carpet and striking walls filled the air. And the tightrope tension hit us all: the instant crowd-filled realization that a bomb had just exploded. Everyone winced. Everyone screamed. And everyone started flooding away from the corner of the casino that held the Rich Man, Poor Man slot machine.
Some unfortunate soul had been so unlucky as to have sat down in front of that bomb-wired slot machine at just the wrong moment. I glanced over my shoulder and saw the helmet-like Mickey Mouse head lying separate from the Mickey Mouse body.
God, I thought. Krönard!
People flooded away from that area of the c
asino. Alarms sounded. Security personnel shouted. The whole casino instantly turned into chaos.
I looked back at the video screen in front of me. One leprechaun was up, and the second two wheels still spun. Then, the second leprechaun came up, and the third wheel still spun.
Then, the third leprechaun came up.
The machine erupted in sirens and a coin-jingling symphony, but the sounds were lost in the terror-induced crowd.
I hit the cash-out button, and the machine spat out a plain white receipt. My machine was still going wild, but no one was paying any attention. Everyone flooded toward the exits.
I spotted Paula in the pandemonium. She came to me.
“Stay close,” I said.
I took her hand, and we started toward the cashier. Others were trying to cash out, too. There was one open line at the end. I slapped my receipt down on the counter, and the cashier took it. She looked at me.
“One cashier’s check,” I said.
She nodded, inserted the receipt, and the computer instantly printed the check. She didn’t even look at the dollar amount until she started to hand it to me, but I grabbed it from her before she could say anything.
“Go!” I shouted at Paula.
We started to walk away, but it was then that I felt the gun in my ribcage.
“Don’t move.” It was Banks.
Paula saw Banks standing behind me.
“Move over to that corner there,” he said.
I still held the cashier’s check in my hand.
People ran by us, screaming and carrying on. Gunshots rang out from across the casino. Some had stolen chips from tables in the chaos, but Paula and I walked quietly towards a clearing in the room. Banks kept the gun jammed into my ribs, and I saw other agents drawing closer.
“Thought you were going to leave me high and dry, eh?” he said. “Give me half the research--the incomprehensible half--then take the money and run.”
“We’re going to give you the research, Banks,” I said.
“This place has just gone crazy,” Paula said. “Let him go, Banks.”
“Hand over the rest of the research, and you’ll live.”
“If we give you the research,” I said, “you’ll kill us both.”
I could smell Banks’ sour breath over my shoulder.
“It seems like we have a dilemma, then,” he said. “I’ll have to show you that I’m serious.”
The gunshot was loud enough for everyone to hear. People nearby us screamed. I fell forward onto my knees and collapsed out onto the floor. Paula screamed.
“Roger!” She tried to roll me over. I looked up into her eyes, and a thin trickle of blood spilled out of my mouth.
“I’m shot,” I gasped. “Oh, God, Paula, I’m shot.”
Paula’s face turned red with rage, and she leapt to her feet.
“Not so fast,” Banks said. He pointed the gun at her.
I lay on the ground. “Just give it to him, Paula,” I said. “Save yourself. Take the money.”
I coughed and felt the dampened area on the front of my jacket. My fingers came away red with blood.
“Listen to your husband,” Banks said. “That’s the most sensible thing he’s said in years.”
Paula glared at him.
“You want the damn research,” she said.
She removed the disc from the bust of her evening gown and threw it at him.
“There,” she said. “Now, you can add fifty years to your life! To everyone’s life!”
The disc hit him in the chest and clattered to the ground. He knelt down and picked it up, his face inches from mine. He looked into my eyes, and then stood back up with the disc held clearly in his hand.
“You are one stupid woman.”
“Go to hell, Banks,” Paula said.
I couldn’t keep my eyes open. I felt the life rushing out of my body. Banks raised the gun, pulled the trigger three times, and Paula staggered backward, her arms windmilling at her sides. She crashed into a slot machine and fell to the floor.
I couldn’t feel my legs, but I looked at her. She lay there lifeless, and I could think of nothing to think, nothing to say. She was dead. Paula was dead.
Banks knelt down and snatched the check out of my hand.
“Sometimes the good guys lose,” he said.
He stood up, scanned the casino, and then took off running with the disc and cashier’s check. He only got ten feet before the gunshot caught him in the back.
From my angle on the floor, I saw Agent Banks hit the carpet. The disc fell out in front of him. The check floated to the ground like a feather. Then, I saw the legs of the gunman step over me.
The man wore black tuxedo trousers. I couldn’t see his face, but he knelt down over Banks’ lifeless body, grabbed the disc, grabbed the cashier’s check, then glanced back at me.
He winked at me, and I closed my eyes right after seeing the scar over his right caramel-colored eye. Then, I heard him stand up and begin running.
“Stop him!” a voice shouted at the remaining agents. “Stop that man! He’s getting away with the disc. He’s got the check!”
I knew the voice was Krönard’s. I could hear footsteps running on the casino carpet. Seven agents took off running through the casino towards the man with the scar, but he was out the exit and gone.
“Stop him!” they shouted. “He’s getting away!”
I lay lifeless on the ground another ten seconds. Paula was dead. Banks was dead. I was dead.
Then, I heard Krönard lean over me. He said, “They’re gone, Roger. Come on. Get up. They’ll be back any minute, now.”
He tapped me on my shoulder. I opened my eyes, wiped the blood from my mouth, then saw Paula sitting up, then Banks.
“He’s right,” I said. “They’ll figure it out soon enough, and they’ll come back. We’ve got to move!”
Banks rose to his feet. He helped Paula to hers, and Krönard helped me to mine.
“Rita’s got the car waiting outside,” Krönard said. “Let’s move.”
I looked at Paula. She winked, and I nodded in return.
“Come on,” I said. “Let’s clear out.”
• •
We were about an hour south of the landing strip in the Mojave Desert, when Krönard turned to Banks and said, “What are you going to do with your share of the money?”
The limousine raced along the two-lane strip of highway, and the clouds outside looked like they may give way to snow.
“I’ll probably bank it,” Banks said. “How about you?”
Krönard looked at him. He glanced at Paula and I. We were all worn out from the three-day flight back to Earth, and I wanted nothing more than to take a hot shower somewhere where I could call home.
“I’m going to travel,” Krönard said. “I’ve always wanted to see Glacier National Park.”
“Glacier National Park?” I said.
“It’s in northwestern Montana,” Krönard said.
It seemed an interesting choice, and Krönard must have guessed I was thinking as much from my response.
“Why?” he said. “What are you two going to do?”
I looked at Paula.
“We’ve talked about Hawaii,” I said.
“There’s a beach on the island of Maui,” Paula said, “in Ka’anapali. The waters are so clear they’re like a swimming pool, and you can climb out on this rock--”
“Black Rock,” I said.
“--where divers leap into the water.”
Krönard frowned thoughtfully.
Suddenly, Banks said, “There they are.”
He pointed out the window on the right side of the limo, and we saw Rita and Umit standing by two cars. Kelso Dunes rose seven hundred feet above the surrounding desert.
Banks said, “It looks like it’s going to snow.”
“What did they call for?” I said.
“Nearly a foot in some parts of the desert overnight,” Paula said.
The limo turned r
ight up a gravel road. A minute later, we arrived at the foot of one giant dune. Everyone saw the cars waiting for us.
“There’s Umit,” Paula said.
“Minus the scar,” I said.
“And Rita.”
The limo pulled over to the cars, stopped, and we climbed out. It was cold outside, a few degrees below freezing, and a wind swept down over the sand dunes as we approached.
Umit and Rita greeted us, and then led us to the back of a car. Umit popped the trunk, and Paula and I saw a single silver briefcase lying on the floor.
“It’s all counted out,” Umit said.
I leaned down, opened the briefcase, and saw stacks of Worldmark bills inside. Paula grabbed one bundle and flipped through them.
She was pleased. I pictured dresses and jewelry that I would buy for her the next few months. That made me smile.
“We better hit the road,” I said. “Desert storms can quickly turn to blizzards.”
I closed the briefcase, then the trunk. Umit handed me the keys. That was when we saw the first snowflakes. Everyone looked to the skies. The clouds were gray.
“It’s starting to snow,” Paula said.
We watched snow fall from the sky.
Finally, Umit said, “So long, folks.”
We shook hands, and I gave Rita a hug. We said goodbye, and then they walked over to their car. I looked from Krönard and Banks to the back of Umit and Rita’s black sedan. They pulled away, and we saw a single hand rise up inside, waving goodbye.
“So long,” I said to Krönard and Banks. “Safe travels.”
We said our goodbyes, and Paula and I climbed into our car. I put the key in the ignition, turned it over, then put the car in drive.
“You ready?” I said to Paula.
She was gazing out to the southeast, where the snow fell most heavily.
“Yeah,” she said. “I think so.”
She turned and looked at me, and I saw tears in her eyes.
“What’s the matter, baby?”
She shook her head. “Nothing,” she said.
I looked at her a moment more, then turned and waved goodbye to Krönard and Banks. They climbed back into the limo, and I turned around and looked once more at Paula.
“Where should we eat?” I said. “It’s Christmas Eve.”
THE END
The Kiribati Test Page 11
