by Dee Dawning
With the showroom now virtually empty, the customer stood, picking her up by the ass and kneeled on the floor. He laid her down, then got on top of her and began pummeling her. "How about a U.S. Grant?"
~* *~
Drew was about to burst in when four bruisers started toward him. "This isn't the men's room." He started walking toward them. "Where the hell is it?"
"Next to the bar." One of them said.
When he was past them, he turned around and said, "Hands up. You're under arrest." Two of them swung around, guns in hand and Drew drilled them, before they got a shot off.
~* *~
Two more shots rang out, people screamed and ran and here she was getting the most exciting fuck in her young life, haggling over a price with the John who was already doing the deed.
"I case you hadn't noticed this isn't Tijuana. A U.S. Grant? This is Vegas! I get fifty bucks for a fucking lap dance." She rolled him over and sat on top. She picked up his hands and placed them on her nipples. Ooh, this all feels so good! "Maybe you haven't noticed but you're getting the real thing. If I don't get at least a Ben Franklin and a U.S Grant I'm out of here!"
"Okay. I agree to a C Note if we do it doggy style too."
~* *~
With shocked looks on their faces, the remaining two started to raise their hands in surrender, then quickly ducked into the room, where Drew assumed they joined Hafez. He started toward the room they'd entered when he heard four more gunshots.
~* *~
More shots, more pandemonium.
Mysta looked down on her partner. He wasn't bad looking. Not George Clooney, but maybe Owen Wilson. "Aren't you scared?"
"I'm too turned on to be scared. I've been watching you all night. You are so hot. You put all the other girls to shame. What about you? Aren't you scared?"
Hmmm. She liked what he said, that made a difference, "Yeah, I am actually, but fucking while all this is going on is such a rush, I'm even going to settle for your Franklin and do it doggy style, but if you try to stick it up my ass, it's going to cost you a U.S. Grant. Agreed?"
"Agreed."
"What's your name anyway?"
"Name's Owen."
~* *~
Drew was confused. What's going on in there? He listened at the door once more. A woman was crying hysterically. Drew knocked on the door. "Mallory?"
"Drew? Is that you?"
He opened the door and jumped inside, his Walther, 9mm extended in a two-hand position. The sight he beheld was confusing. The bodies of Hafez and his two cohorts lay on the floor apparently dead. Hafez had been shot in the eye. Mallory sat on a couch naked and beautiful, her legs tucked under her. Next to her was a nice looking man in a sports coat, an automatic in his hand, both rested on his thigh.
~* *~
Detective Goodwin crept up stealthily and stuck his gun in the intruder's back. "Hold it right there cowboy. Put down your weapon and don't move." As Drew started to put his Walther down, Goodwin's eyes roamed the room for any more danger points. His eyes passed Mallory and as they registered what he saw, they went back there and remained. Mallory Robbins! And she's naked.
~* *~
With the detective distracted, Drew reached behind his back with his right hand and simultaneously twisted. Grabbing the wrist of Goodwin's gun hand, surprise and leverage on his side, Drew put Goodwin on the ground in seconds. Holding his arm in an awkward position, his foot on Goodwin's shoulder, Drew once more turned to Mallory and the man in the sports coat.
Mallory stared at him queerly, through teared eyes.
He removed the fake moustache and glasses.
Recognition registered, Mallory ran up to and hugged him.
He slid the gun in his belt and hugged her back. She kissed him hungrily.
With his arm still around Mallory, Drew looked over at the man in the chair. "Sergeant Carboni, I presume."
Carboni raised his hand in acknowledgement. "In the flesh. And that poor man under your foot is my partner. I would consider it a favor if you would let him up."
Drew looked down at Carboni's partner, shrugged, took his foot off his shoulder and helped him up. "Sorry, ole bean. Can't be too careful. You could have been a bad guy you know."
A few of the patrons and employees who hadn't scattered showed up at the door. Goodwin, close enough, kicked the door shut, stating gruffly that it was a crime scene. Afterward, he pulled out his cell phone and called 911.
Drew took off his coat and draped it around Mallory, cloaking her nakedness. Then he zeroed in on Carboni. "Did you enjoy my girlfriend's performance?"
~* *~
Carboni recalled for a second Mallory's exhilaration, her enormous orgasm, her pulling his head to her breast and he sucking on her tit. He couldn't help it. His orgasm followed, his semen mixing with her juices leaking onto his lap. Carboni answered carefully, profoundly, "You are the luckiest man in the world." Meaning every word.
A spark of anger flashed in Drew's face. However, it turned to a smile. "I am, aren't I?"
Mallory seemed far from angry though. He had kept the bad man from taking her. She had obviously enjoyed their lap dance and would likely cherish the memory. The fact that he had climaxed too, would be their secret. "You are the Sergeant I talked to earlier?" she asked. He nodded. "Boy, you sure had me fooled. I was sure you were some cockhound from Texas." She got up, bent down and hugged him. "Thanks."
Her lovely breasts flashed again until she stood up. He recalled the photos he had seen of her in her portfolio. He was choked up that she was safe. As Goodwin had worried, he admitted to himself he had indeed gotten emotionally involved. Emotional and wanting to change the subject, he pointed over the doorway. "We need to retrieve any recordings for Mallory's sake."
The video camera mounted above the door, aimed directly at them.
He knew Drew would immediately know what he worried about. The tape, of course, would be a record of the shootings, but if the media managed to somehow get hold of it, they would have a field day at Mallory's expense, not to mention that Mallory's lap dance would probably be plastered all over the Internet.
Drew looked at the camera. "Don't worry, I'll get the tape."
Mallory led Drew over to the couch, sat down, and pulled him down next to her. Surely pleased that her ordeal had ended, she leaned into him and relaxed. With Drew by her side, Mallory seemed calmer. Nonetheless, even though she was relieved, she still shook a little. The last day and a half had been a nightmare, a horrible experience that would likely haunt her for the rest of her life.
Chapter Sixteen
The medics arrived and took the occupant's from the Gold Hummer, which had rolled over. Medics worked on Campbell and Morina, who less severely injured, refused to go to the hospital where a vindictive Prince Ali might get at them.
The Metro uniformed officers began to scrutinize the accident, but had called in detectives since it was obviously more than an accident. Ambulances and investigators had already arrived at the hotel to probe the explosions and events on the top floors of the hotel.
A dozen fire trucks had appeared, with some still on the way. With the fire alarms blaring and sprinkler systems on the top three floors gushing forth, many of the guests had vacated the premises and were standing around, a safe distance from the hotel.
Of course, such a spectacle cannot take place without reporters and they were there and coming. Metro Detective Winston Bromley counted seven TV news vans, four helicopters so far and that didn't count journalists.
Las Vegas Metro Detective Bromley just finished questioning Kelsey. When she turned and began to cross the busy Blvd, he yelled after her. "Hey, where are you going?"
Kelsey angled back and pointed across the street. "I swear I heard gunplay, over the traffic, coming from the nude cabaret a few minutes ago. The policemen I came with are over there. I'm going to check it out."
Bromley glanced back toward the incident he'd been called to investigate. Deciding they could be connected he yelled
to Kelsey, who was halfway across, "Hold on. I'll come with you."
~* *~
Deciding there was no time like the present to retrieve the tape, Drew went out to the show room to look for the recorder. The room was empty except for a man and one of the dancers who were going at it on the floor—doggy style, with him stroking her hot and heavy.
She looked up at him and smirked. "You're not going to tell my mommy are you?"
Drew laughed. "Don't worry, my lips are sealed."
"Good. My name is Mysta. You're pretty good looking. You wouldn't be interested in seconds would you?"
"You're pretty sizzling yourself, but no thanks. My girlfriend is in the next room."
"Mallory is your girlfriend? Is she all right? She was so scared. She was afraid to take off her clothes, too. Even with that great figure."
"She's fine. All the bad boys are dead. Say you wouldn't know where the DVD recorder is for those cameras in the private room would you?"
"Which camera? Ther're three."
"The one over the door."
"It's number two behind the bar, but I think it's broke and don't think the manager ever got it fixed."
"Thanks, Mysta, I think I'll check it anyway and may God grant you and your partner the mother of all climaxes."
"Thanks, What's you name?"
"Drew."
"Thanks Drew." Mysta winked. "You come back and see me, okay?"
"Okay."
Before he returned to Mallory and the others, he went behind the bar and removed the disks from all three DVD machines.
~* *~
Once Kelsey and Bromley's vision became accustomed to the dim light, they could see that the show room was empty with the exception of a fornicating couple. "Don't forget, this is worth an extra U.S. Grant," the woman said.
Kelsey put her hand to her mouth and giggled.
Bromley spoke up, "Excuse me. Police. We heard gunshots. Do either of you know where they came from?"
The girl looked up and smiled. "Looks like you caught us. Check the private room, to the left of the bar."
They headed to the bar and saw two bodies in the hall to the left. Stepping over the bodies, they opened a door with a sign that read Private Room. The room contained three more corpses and four live individuals: the subjects of their investigation—Robbins, Stevens, Carboni and his partner, Goodwin.
Bromley took in the spectacle of the corpses, a partially clad beauty, her apparent boyfriend and two Hollywood detectives. "Sgt. Bromley, Metro. Is everyone all right?"
"Sure, just a little target practice. They missed and I didn't," said Carboni.
Kelsey ran over, hugged Goodwin and whispered in his ear, "When this is over I have big plans for you. There's a couple fucking on the stage out there and it got me going again."
~* *~
Remembering his time with feisty little bangster bunny, Goodwin smiled after a stirring passed through his semi-hard prick.
Bromley asked, "Has anyone called the authorities?"
Goodwin assured, "I called 911, seven or eight minutes ago."
"How long did they say it would take to get here?"
"They didn't."
Drew suggested, "Carboni, I think one of you should follow-up while I take Mallory and find her something decent to put on."
Carboni nodded. "You heard him detective. Get on it."
Goodwin addressed the Las Vegas detective, "Bromley. Can you check on that for me?"
He nodded.
"Miss Robbins, I'd like to know what went on here."
Goodwin took a recorder out of his jacket pocket and turned it on. "Who wants to go first?"
"Where would you like me to start," asked Mallory.
"Eventually, I want the whole story, but for now, just what happened here."
"Well all those dead guys who are lying on the floor were chasing after me and they followed me in here."
"Into this room?"
"Not exactly—into this building."
"Then what?"
"I was dressed as a man so I don't think they knew who I was. I didn't know this was a girlie bar when I ran in, but it probably was a good thing because they were looking for a man. I ran behind the drape where men aren't allowed and two of the dancers helped me. They undressed me, put a purple wig on me and threw me out on the stage." She pointed at the deceased Hafez. "That nasty man came over and stared at me. I froze. I was so scared I couldn't move. Then this gentleman stood up and said he wanted a lap dance with me and dragged me away from the nasty man."
Sgt. Carboni walked over to the coffee table, picked up the recorder and turned it off. "I can tell you what happened from there, partner. Continuing would be a waste of time and we have unfinished business. Right Stevens?"
"Right, Sergeant. Prince Ali's forces are depleted right now. We'll never have a better opportunity to nab him."
Chapter Seventeen – The Assault
"Goodwin, counting Stevens and us, how many armed law enforcement personnel are here right now?"
"Probably fifteen or so."
"Good." Carboni addressed Bromley, "Sergeant, can you arrange to have all your personnel ready to assault the top three floors of the Babylon?"
"I can do better than that. I have the Captain on the phone and he's on his way with six detectives. He also ordered all patrol and traffic officers in the area here. He said a ten man SWAT team is already on the way and should arrive in twenty or thirty minutes."
"Hold on, Sergeant. Wait a minute," cried Drew. "What everyone is proposing is a prescription for a large and messy hostage situation. Look, my friend Jamal and I got up to the women's floor and I see no reason we can't do it again. I suggest I lead a small party up there, to at least secure the top floor and, if they're not wise to what we're doing, begin to evacuate the women. Mallory, how many women are up there?"
"I saw about thirty, but I wasn't there very long. I doubt if I saw all of them. Where's Morina? She would know exactly. She was in the vehicle with me when we crashed."
Carboni opened his flip phone and called. "Paige? It's Ritchie. A pause. Yah, Mallory's fine. Are the occupants of the SUV all right? Another pause. Can you bring them across the street to the cabaret?" Carboni snuck a look at everyone and whispered, "I miss you too."
The medical technicians arrived and shooed everyone out of the room, while they checked the five corpses for signs of life. As they were still exiting, one medic said to the other. "Man, I was over in Iraq and this reminds me of Baghdad. How many dead does this make?"
"By my count, eight and I have a feeling we're not finished yet."
Another crime scene team and the coroner's people arrived.
Drew and Mallory snuck off to find her clothes. Mysta was nowhere to be found, but Candy was in the back room where Mallory's clothes were hanging up to dry.
Mallory hugged her. "This is Drew."
Goodwin came in. "Carboni has talked to Morina. Apparently, she is Ali's daughter and was in charge of the women's section. He wants you back there."
Drew nodded at the information that he already knew.
Dressed and safely ensconced within a bevy of law enforcement officials Mallory was apparently beginning to feel like herself. She took Drew and Candy's hands and said, "Let's go see what the Sergeant wants."
~* *~
Carboni took the opportunity to call Ginger. "Hi Ginger. Carboni here."
"I can tell. How's it shaking, Sergeant?"
"Oh, we're doing good, five dead bad guys and fixing to do more, but I think our guy Stevens is doing better and that's why I'm calling. Let's have the good stuff about Stevens"
"I've dug up even more. I told you Stevens's mother Magda is the Sultaness of Oman. It seems his father is an American citizen. An important one. Magda attended George Washington University, back in 1979 and met and became involved with another student, one Scott Stevens. She became pregnant and they married. Their marriage lasted long enough for Drew to be born, then was annulled. How you get an
annulment after a child is born, I don't know, but her family did it. Apparently, part of the annulment agreement was shared custody. Six months here and six months in Oman each year. After he reached the age of majority, he remained in the U.S. occasionally visiting his mother. After eight years in the marines and SEALs his father got him in the FBI—"
"Scott Stevens. Wait a minute. Are we talking about Scotty Stevens, the Deputy Director of the FBI?"
"The one and only."
"Phew! Holy smokes. Is this an FBI operation?"
"I couldn't find that out. If it is, it's a deep one."
