by Siegel, Alex
Aaron stripped off his black costume to reveal a casual outfit underneath. After Smythe took off his wrappings, he was back in the blue suit of an FBI agent. Tawni gave a paper bag to Sheryl that contained fresh clothes for her. The team politely looked the other way while Sheryl changed.
"Well done, everybody," Aaron said. "Not a single mistake."
"You were great," Tawni said to Sheryl.
Sheryl smiled. "Thanks."
Marina's phone rang.
She put it against her ear and said, "Hello? Mr. Wilman? Calm down. Talk slowly so I can understand you. Wait. Just hold on. We'll come to your office. You can explain everything to me in person."
She put her phone away.
"That sounded like good news," Aaron said.
She nodded. "I suppose you and Sheryl can hang out in the casino until we're done with Wilman."
"I hate casinos, and this place isn't safe for Sheryl. We'll do something else."
She gave him a quick kiss on the lips. "I'll see you later."
Marina, Tawni, and Smythe walked off.
Aaron turned to Sheryl. "We have a little free time."
"We could just relax," she said. "That's not against the rules, is it?"
"Why relax when you can do more training?"
Her shoulders sagged. This man is a slave driver, she thought.
He looked around. "Let's find some locked doors. I want to see you pick them."
"I don't have any lock picks."
"Ah!" He raised his finger. "Conveniently, I always carry a set."
"How lucky for me."
Chapter Eleven
Tawni and Smythe followed Marina back to Wilman's office.
He looked like a different man than the one from before. His hair was unkempt and his eyes were bloodshot. His expensive, black jacket was lying on the floor.
"You got here quickly," he said.
Marina nodded. "We were looking around the casino."
"All the details are here." He shoved a piece of paper across the desk. "I wrote down everything I know about the monkey machines, which isn't much."
"Who is the vendor?"
"I never got his name or number. I met him just once."
She sat across from Wilman. "Strange. How do you do business with him?"
"Every month or so, one of his associates meets me. I never know ahead of time, and it's never the same man twice. They just show up and take orders for new machines."
"Sounds shady."
"Everything about this is shady," he said.
"Do you pay for the machines on the spot?"
He shook his head. "The money transfer is done separately."
"How?" she said.
"There is a hedge fund named Golden Spiral Investments. We just deposit the money in our account there."
"And somebody else transfers it out?"
"No," he said. "The account loses value over time until the money is gone."
She furrowed her brow. "I don't get it."
"All I know is we've put a hundred million dollars in that fund, and only two million is left. It's a great tax write-off. The account numbers are here." He tapped the paper.
"Sounds like a money laundering scam. Why did you engage in such an obvious criminal undertaking?"
"We were desperate. The competition in the gambling business is brutal these days. It seems like a new casino pops up every week, and there are a thousand unregulated internet sites. Those monkey machines saved this casino from bankruptcy and turned it into a profitable enterprise. They earned me a very nice Christmas bonus."
He put his face in his hands and shuddered. Tawni wondered if he was about to cry.
Marina took the paper and put it in her pocket. "You met the man behind all this once. Can you describe him?"
"Very handsome. Sharp dresser. Sociable. Brown hair, brown eyes. He had some big, tough bodyguards with beards."
"Russians?"
He stared at her. "They had Russian accents. How did you know?"
"We're not completely clueless. Is there anything else you can remember?"
"No." He shook his head. "That meeting was years ago, and it wasn't long. He gave us two free monkey machines to get us started. They were early models, but they still made money like crazy from the first day. We've been snapping them up ever since."
"Do you have any idea why they're so incredibly popular?"
"They're possessed."
She raised her eyebrows. "Really?"
"That man is the Devil. I sold my soul for a Christmas bonus. I sold a lot of souls that day."
"Let's not get carried away."
"Are we done?" he said. "I have no more information."
She stood up. "For now."
"Good."
He reached into a desk drawer and took out a gun. Before anybody could stop him, he jammed the barrel into his mouth and pulled the trigger. His brains splattered across the wall.
Tawni stared in astonishment.
"Let's go!" Marina said.
She hustled out the door. Tawni and Smythe followed close behind.
* * *
Aaron checked his watch. "It's taken you three minutes so far. That's too long. Hurry!"
Sheryl was trying to pick the lock on the back door of a grocery store. She was perspiring freely for reasons other than the hot summer air. It was a very exposed location. At any moment, a car could come around the corner and catch her in the act. Sweaty hands and nervousness was making it hard for her to grip the delicate tools. It was also a tough lock.
"Please, sir," she said, "stop rushing me. This is hard enough."
"The bad guys will be here any second. If you don't get through that door, you're dead meat."
She clenched her jaw. His motivational tactics weren't helping. She needed to calm down and focus.
She could feel the pins moving as she slid the rake back and forth. She couldn't quite make them stick.
"Ten seconds," Aaron said.
"Please!"
"Too late."
Sheryl felt something press against the back of her skull. She heard the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked.
"Turn around slowly," a woman said in a grim tone. "Hands in the air."
Sheryl was shaking as she raised her hands and turned around. Marina was there.
"Ma'am!" Sheryl yelled. "That wasn't funny. You scared the crap out of me."
Marina put away her gun. "It's your fault. You let me walk up behind you. I wasn't even being very quiet."
Smythe was smirking. Tawni was trying hard to keep a straight face, but Sheryl could tell she was also amused.
"I hate you all," Sheryl said under her breath.
Marina looked at the lock. "Having trouble with that cheap thing?"
"You want to try, ma'am?" Sheryl gave Marina the lock picks.
"Aaron, keep time."
Aaron looked at his watch. "Ready... go."
Marina chose her picks and slid them into the lock. She wiggled and twisted the picks with her eyes closed. In a shockingly short time, the door popped open.
"Fifteen seconds," Aaron said. "Pretty good."
She smiled proudly.
Sheryl rolled her eyes.
"What happened with Wilman?" Aaron said.
Marina handed over a sheet of paper. "He didn't have much to say about the man who sells the machines. Brown hair, brown eyes, sociopath. We're chasing a slick operator who knows how to avoid getting caught. But we did get one solid lead. The payments go through a hedge fund called Golden Spiral Investments. It's a sophisticated money laundering operation. The account numbers are on the paper."
"Sir," Tawni said, "Wilman blew out his own brains after we were done talking."
Aaron shrugged. "I guess he was feeling guilty."
The shocking news hit Sheryl hard. "How can you be so casual?" she said. "My performance pushed him over the edge."
"Yes, you were very effective. You should be proud."
"He took his own life!"
"Calm down," he said. "We will catch the man who caused all this trouble."
The look in his eyes warned her to back off.
"Is it finally time to go home?" Marina said.
Aaron nodded. "I'll take a few passengers in the helicopter. Somebody has to drive the car back. I nominate the junior member of the team."
Sheryl opened her mouth to complain, but after a moment, she said, "Yes, sir." At least it wasn't more training.
"I'll keep you company," Tawni said quickly.
"Thanks." Sheryl smiled at her.
"I'm not just being nice. That flight is going to be a rough ride, and I don't need that kind of thrill."
"Why will it be rough?"
"Marina is an expert helicopter pilot," Tawni said, "and Aaron is still learning. I bet she'll test his skills."
Smythe's eyes widened in alarm. "Ladies, do you mind if I come with you? I'm suddenly feeling a little airsick."
Aaron pounded him on the shoulder. "Come on. Marina will be sitting in the co-pilot's seat. If I lose control, she can take over in an instant and straighten us out. We'll be fine, probably."
Smythe's face was pale. Sheryl was very glad she was driving home.
* * *
A knock on the door of the security booth startled Jack. He walked over and opened it.
Nancy was standing there with her usual goofy smile. Her brown, frizzy hair had been cut to a short, practical length. She wore blue jean coveralls with a few oddly placed oil stains. She smelled like turpentine.
"My turn," she said.
"Thank God. That was the longest shift of my life."
"You look like a wreck."
"I barely slept last night. The fucking jingle jangle of the monkey machines is stuck in my head." He hit his forehead with his palm. "It won't let me relax."
"Maybe you should take a pill or something. When Smythe comes back, he can give you one."
"I have a better idea. I'll go home, eat dinner, wash it down with some Scotch, and watch baseball on TV. By the sixth or seventh inning, I should feel right again. If that doesn't work, I know a great strip club."
"Just make sure you get a good night's sleep," Nancy said. "You don't want Aaron to see you like this."
She went into the security booth and took her seat at the main console.
Jack went around to the entry chamber. He didn't feel like walking home through the heat and the mosquitoes, so he took the elevator down to the secret garage in the basement.
Thirty cars were parked there, ranging in style from humble to exotic. He decided to give himself a little treat, so he chose a black Corvette for his ride home. He sat in the low slung, leather seat and smiled. He grabbed the keys off the dashboard. He started the engine and it rumbled like an angry lion. Being a member of the Gray Spear Society had undeniable benefits at times.
He navigated the confusing passageways of the basement until he finally escaped into the light. He drove up onto a parking lot behind the hotel. The sun was a big orange ball just above the western horizon.
He headed home. The Corvette's turbocharged engine was twitchy, so he went easy on the gas pedal.
He spotted the billboard for the grand opening of the Pot of Gold Casino. Without thinking, he slowed to a stop in the middle of the street.
He recognized the address, and it wasn't too far away. He could be there in a half-hour. He expected the casino had excellent restaurants. There was no harm in eating a fine dinner and checking out the place. Gambling wasn't necessary. Even if he did indulge a little, it wouldn't matter. He was off duty until the morning. He could blow his wad and still get home in time for a full night's sleep.
Part of him knew it was a bad idea. Another part argued that he just needed to let himself go once in a while. After he was done, he could stop obsessing and get back to his regular life.
The money wasn't important. He literally had piles of it back at the office. He would have to lose a small fortune before Aaron would even notice. There was no chance of that happening.
A car horn made Jack jump, and he realized he was blocking traffic. He drove towards the casino.
The trip took longer than he expected, almost an hour. As he pulled into the parking lot of the casino, he became impressed. The main building was shaped like an Aztec pyramid with four stepped tiers. A strip of flat roof went around the building at each level. Golden tiles covered the exterior, and banks of colored lights made them gleam. The main sign looked like a giant iron pot full of gold coins.
The big parking lot was packed with cars. He went up and down the aisles for ten minutes before finally finding a spot in the back. He got out and walked quickly towards the building.
Four stunning young women in golden bikinis flanked the entrance. As Jack walked by, they whispered, "Claim your treasure."
He went inside.
His jaw dropped.
There were no straight lines or sharp edges anywhere. The walls rippled and curved into each other like frozen waves. Instead of rectangular rooms, there were caves connected by irregular passageways. Jack felt like he had walked into the bowels of a gigantic monster or a magical underworld. Intense patterns painted with bright colors dazzled his eyes wherever he looked.
The games were integrated into the walls to form a seamless whole. Each machine had a player standing in front of it. The distracting sounds of bells and whistles assaulted him from all directions.
He didn't see any available machines, and that was probably a good thing. He could feel his self-discipline weakening already. The sight of little balls rolling on curved tracks kept drawing his gaze. He gathered his wits and went in search of food. He was very hungry for dinner.
He penetrated deeper into the casino. He expected to find table games, poker, or normal slot machines, but there were none. All the games were just different types of monkey machines. They were everywhere he looked. He was sweating with the desire to play.
He became completely disoriented in the maze of curving passageways. There were no signs indicating the way out. Every room was unique and strange. The colors were psychedelic. It was like being trapped in a drug-induced hallucination.
Somehow, he discovered a buffet. In a daze, he went inside. Delicious looking food was laid out on long tables.
He got the attention of a waitress. "I'd like to eat."
"Sit anywhere, sir," she said. "Take what you want. The food is free."
He raised his eyebrows. That's a good deal.
He looked around. There was plenty of available seating, so much that he became suspicious. The casino was packed to capacity with gamblers. A free buffet should've drawn them in like flies.
He filled a plate with roast beef, mashed potatoes, and salad. He sat down. When he started eating, he found the food tasted as great as it looked. His enthusiasm for the meal waned quickly though. He kept hearing the machines outside the door. The bells and whistles were calling to him with cheerful little voices. His fingers itched to touch the complex controls.
His plate was still half-full when he stood up. He went off to find an open machine.
* * *
Aaron brought the helicopter down on the roof of the Rosemont Tower Hotel. Marina was watching closely, so he made sure his landing was perfect. He touched down with hardly a bump.
Smythe escaped even before the rotors started spinning down. On unsteady legs, he hurried towards the stairway that led down to headquarters. He looked nauseous.
"I think you might've scared him," Marina said.
"Is that why he was screaming before?" Aaron snickered.
"The stall turns were a teeny bit intense. Normally, helicopters don't go vertical."
"I suppose that's true."
He spotted Bethany, Leanna, and Norbert sitting on chairs on the roof. They were just staring at each other without talking. Light from a half-moon made them appear ghostly. Aaron frowned.
He waited until the helicopter was shut down before getting out.
&n
bsp; He walked over to them. "What's up?"
"They won't talk to me, sir," Norbert said in a sad tone. "They won't eat. They won't do anything."
The twins barely glanced at Aaron. They were clearly awake and alert, but they remained silent. He didn't like being ignored.
He grabbed Bethany's shoulder. He squeezed hard enough to cause pain, hoping to get some kind of vocal response out of her. She winced but didn't speak or acknowledge his presence. Frustrated, he let go of her.
Norbert had bloodshot eyes and a tired expression. He looked like he had been crying.
"Do you have a suggestion?" Aaron said.
"No, sir." Norbert shook his head.
"This is unacceptable! We're in the middle of an investigation. I need the twins to dig up information about an outfit called Golden Spiral Investments, and it can't wait."
Norbert leaned over and kissed Leanna on the lips. She tried to brush him off like a pesky fly. He sighed.
Marina walked up.
"Do you have any ideas?" Aaron asked her.
"I might." She pressed her lips together. "It's a little outside the bounds of standard procedure."
"Anything. I'm desperate."
"I have a couple of hackers in San Francisco who aren't too busy right now. They could help out on a temporary basis."
After thinking about it for a moment, he nodded. "Thank you, but let's not mention this to Ethel. It doesn't look good for me. Commanders are supposed to fix their own problems."
"I'll manage my guys for you. There is no need for you to contact them directly. Can I have that piece of paper back?"
Aaron gave her the notes that Wilman had written before his suicide. Marina took out her phone and moved away to make her call.
"What are we going to do, sir?" Norbert said.
Aaron shrugged. "We just have to wait it out. At some point, the twins will get their act together. We're not the only people who don't like their behavior. I'm sure God isn't happy, either."
With an anxious expression, Norbert looked at the girls. "Do you think He'll punish them?"
"I have no idea what will happen." Aaron rubbed his temples. "But something will."
