by Fritz Galt
“Then there is Liang,” Jade went on. “His apartment was wallpapered with her picture and articles written about her. He is obsessed with her.”
Brad tried to imagine the man’s infatuation. Nothing about Liang had changed since they last tangled the year before. Nothing could deter Liang from pursuing his mission, no matter how great the obstacle or how unrealistic the goal.
“We’ve dealt with him before,” he said. “And this should be easy now that he’s on my turf.”
Her catlike eyes assessed him coolly.
He started to buckle his seatbelt, but the CIA packet slid off his lap. He was reaching down to pick it up when his cell phone slipped out of his shirt pocket. When he looked up, Jade was eying him with skepticism.
“No. I can handle Liang.” He swiftly retrieved the cell phone. “Trust me.”
The jet’s twin engines began their pre-takeoff roar.
He raised his voice. “I called Earl. He’ll meet up with us in Las Vegas.”
Her eyelids closed in a brief smile, which vanished just as quickly. “He is a scientist. He is not prepared for this line of work.”
“Hey, I’m a scientist, too.”
The acceleration pressed him back in his seat.
“I’m not questioning his physical fitness,” Jade said. “I keep him in good shape. He’s just not the kind of guy to fight bullies.”
Brad had to concede the point. Earl was much more prepared for hand-to-hand compromise. Face it, Earl was basically a coward.
Soon the wings caught the air, and they began to hang from the sky.
“May’s working at a club called the Corral,” he said. “All we have to do is get her out of there.”
Jade examined him closely. “You have a bigger job to do.” Her voice cut sharply through the drone of the engines.
“But I need May first. I need her father in order to expose Liang’s scheme.”
“You are too emotional,” she said at last. “Maybe I should go to the Corral first and figure out what happened to her.”
He was too emotional?
From the higher altitude, they emerged into the direct rays of the sun. Jade had a clear look in her eyes. He had finally gotten her settled down and thinking constructively. Now she was calling him emotional.
But once again, she was right. She should be the one to go after May first and scout things out.
Brad watched the last streak of light fade on the horizon ahead. All he could see of the Mojave Desert far below was a murky blackness. But as they crested the rim of a mountain, the entire Las Vegas Valley opened up before them. It sparkled like diamonds captured in the strands of a spider’s web.
The city was the first evidence of electricity he’d seen west of the Mississippi. Hoover Dam could keep Las Vegas supplied with power forever. And from the look of the casinos that lined Las Vegas Boulevard, it was a city that needed every amp it could get. Perhaps its defiance of natural limits made it a city that never died.
“Prepare for landing,” the captain said.
They descended rapidly over a restricted range reserved for test flights. They were going to land short of the commercial airport and use Nellis Air Force Base instead, eight miles northeast of town,
They touched down lightly on a well-worn runway. To one side, Brad saw a string of fighter jets lined up to take off. Several foreign-looking military models were parked out of the way. Jade leaned toward her window. Her eyes were large with admiration. She looked eager to grab onto some of those controls.
Brad was no aviation enthusiast. Flying in the CIA jet was as daring as he got. Like most anthropologists, he was a well-grounded person. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help admiring the efficient and purposeful activity of the ground crews. Nellis AFB was a highly charged base that ran at a breakneck pace.
“Are they at full alert?” he asked the steward.
The airman shook his head. “No. It’s just the biggest air force base in the world. They fly forty thousand sorties a year from here, including every type of plane in the U.S. Air Force arsenal.”
“But who are they fighting?”
“It’s all advanced training. This is where we train fighter pilots and hold maneuvers with other branches of the armed services. It’s also the home of the Thunderbirds Demonstration Squadron. Ever seen them?”
Brad nodded. Or was that the Blue Angels? Given the number of jets and ground vehicles in action, the base didn’t seem short on fuel. Most likely the military had its own stockpile.
Ground control guided the plane off the runway to an area near the main gate. Very accommodating. The air force really did have its act together. In fact, an anonymous white Suburban pulled up to them just as they came to a halt.
Brad stepped to the door and got a whiff of all the exhaust in the air. The base smelled as active as any commercial airport in the country.
An Air Force Security Policeman saluted them when Brad and Jade reached the ground. He opened a door to the Suburban and let them climb in. Brad slung his backpack onto the rear seat and Jade settled down beside him.
“Where to?” the SP called over his shoulder.
“Take us to the Corral,” Brad said.
The man turned around. “You sure this is official business?”
“All on the up and up.”
“Congress is gonna love this.” The SP scrawled something into a logbook and turned on the engine.
The air base seemed high on adrenalin, but the city was manic. No sooner had they turned off Craig Road onto the Strip than Brad saw something he had never experienced before.
So much light spilled onto the street from the row of floodlit hotels that he forgot it was nighttime. People skipped in and out of casinos, restaurants, stores and entertainment venues as if it were midday. He had never seen sunglasses worn at night before.
The dazzle skewed his otherwise puritanical perception of life. In the end, life could be fun. While the rest of the country was fizzling, business in Las Vegas boomed. The city was clearly prospering off the country’s gloom. Why not go out with a bang?
As if reading his thoughts, the SP said, “If you’ve gotta do it, might as well do it in Vegas.” He beeped at a young woman strolling across the street wearing high heels, a cocktail dress and a feather boa.
Brad heard a ringing noise in his shirt pocket. “Yeah?” he answered the phone.
It was Earl. His flight had just arrived at the commercial airport.
Brad turned to the SP. “Are we anywhere near the airport?”
“That’s further south of the Corral.” He hit the brakes as a stretch limousine sped away from a tiny wedding chapel.
Brad had no time to lose. He couldn’t gawk all night while May was being ravaged. He returned to the phone. “Take a cab to the Corral,” he told Earl. “I’ll wait for you there.”
He hung up. It was great that his buddy was so nearby.
“Earl is at the airport.”
Jade was glued to the window and didn’t visibly react.
“Have you ever been here before?” Brad asked.
“I’ve never been anywhere like this,” she said under her breath. “Look at all the money. It’s everything China wants to become.”
Brad had to laugh, but there was some truth to it. China’s gamble on economic prosperity had already turned many of her cities into glitter palaces. But not every comrade had hundreds of dollars to throw away every night.
And such was the case for the rest of the city. As the Strip petered out, Brad found them driving through residential sections that diminished from the well heeled to the downtrodden. Soon, they were gliding past laundromats and hairdressers where the service staff that kept the casinos clean and visitors entertained and well fed went about their normal lives.
“Here we go,” the SP said. “The Corral.”
At first, Brad didn’t know what place the SP was referring to. There were no resort complexes nearby, no giant nightclubs, not even a restaurant. All that sat befo
re them was a run-down strip mall that included a lingerie store, a donut shop, adult videos and a kennel.
Then he saw it. The Corral’s entrance was a single door tucked into the corner of the shopping center. The owners had erected a flashing logo on the roof of the two-story building. It depicted a row of curiously human mares, backside toward the street, and the name “The Corral” written like a lasso around them all. A hand-painted sign on the front door was less subtle. It read, “XXX Live Strip Show.”
“No. Uh-uh,” Brad said. “May couldn’t be in there.”
“Stay here.” Jade gently pushed him back into his seat. “Let me handle this. You wait for Earl.”
“I don’t even want you in that place.”
She gave him an insolent look. “I’m a grownup. I know what to expect. Let the girls handle this one.”
He was aghast. What in May’s life had ever prepared her for such crude debauchery and inhumane treatment as surely took place behind that door? The poor girl would be emotionally scarred for life.
Jade slammed the door to the vehicle shut and strode across the parking lot. A local dive on a back street in Vegas. It wasn’t exactly where he would expect to save the world.
Chapter 38
Jade stepped out of the Suburban and studied the entrance to the Corral. Normally she wouldn’t venture into such a place, at least not on her own.
Brad was back in the car waiting for Earl. She tried to throw him a confident smile. Then she scanned the parking lot for a clue as to who might be lurking within the club. Several cars were pulled up to other shops that were closed for the night. Most customers didn’t want to advertise the fact that they were at a strip club.
She tucked tufts of her hair under her cowgirl hat and crossed to the Corral. The entrance was a kind of cheap storm door. She rested a hand on the handle, braced herself, and pulled the door open. It had a spring on it that nearly pulled the door out of her hand. After a short tug-of-war match with the door, she made it inside. The air was charged with clapping and cheers.
In the vestibule, she encountered a tattooed bouncer who scrutinized her. “Dancer or customer?”
She thought quickly. She needed access to her friend. “Dancer.” She added an impudent smile.
“Go down the hall to the right, past the bar. Dressing room is on the right.”
She followed the rap music and cigar smoke down a long hallway until she reached a small bar. Several men in loose shirts and tight jeans listened to the bartender explaining, “This is your cover drink. Drinks are free inside.”
Jade wandered past and nobody stopped her. Nobody reached out to grab her breasts either.
Several steps further along the red carpet, she reached what had to be the main stage. Three women were slithering around on the black, Plexiglas floor. One had just finished applying whipped cream and cherries to her body and was walking over to a shower stall. A group of men sat in a booth that surrounded the shower for an up-close view.
For a full minute, Jade observed the way the women moved. The audience was getting into the dancing, and various men shoved money into the women’s g-strings. Her eyes roamed over the rest of the room. Liang and May were nowhere in sight. Perhaps that was a good thing.
Then she felt a tap on her shoulder. Was she in somebody’s way? She moved aside, but continued to scrutinize the clients’ faces illuminated in the alternating yellow, red and blue lights of the stage.
Two hands reached under her arms and began to slide down the sides of her body. The groping had already begun. She formulated a sharp rebuke and spun around.
It was Liang.
She was in the right place, but she was not prepared to run into him so soon.
“Where have you been?” he asked in Chinese. “We were expecting you.”
She pointed to herself. “Expecting me? Why?”
He pointed to his forehead.
She didn’t get it.
“Your inner voice,” he explained.
Did Liang think that she was being guided by mental telepathy like May? Since her hope was to infiltrate Liang’s slimy little operation, she decided to play along. “That wasn’t the problem.” She quickly fabricated a cover story. “I had trouble finding transportation.”
He nodded, then slipped around between her arms and planted a kiss directly on her lips.
She remembered the forceful way he kissed, and it stimulated some exotic memories.
“Now, get your costume on. You and May take the stage in ten minutes.”
A door opened down the hall. May emerged from the women’s room. Okay, Jade was definitely in the right place. May looked alive and well and…almost dressed. She had nothing on but low-rise, cut-off jeans and her cowgirl hat.
“This way, please.” Liang ushered Jade toward the women’s john.
“Long time no see,” May said brightly, and pulled her into the room.
One look inside and Jade realized that it doubled as a dressing room. Judging from the kind of crowd that the place catered to, there wouldn’t be many female guests.
Just before the door closed behind her, Jade caught Liang’s hand diving into his pants where there was a pronounced bulge. So he had been expecting her in a big way.
Then metal glinted above his belt. Liang pulled out the rest of a revolver and checked the chambers for bullets.
May shut the dressing room door. The two women were finally alone. A vanity mirror framed by light bulbs illuminated the room. A box of underwire bras and thongs sat on the countertop.
May handed her a pair of cutoff jeans to put on.
Jade took them and smiled shyly at her friend. “So it looks like we’re going to be cowgirls tonight.”
Only then did she realize that something was missing. There was no expression on May’s face.
Five minutes later, Brad walked toward the Corral with his newly arrived buddy, Earl.
It was great to see Skeeter safe, if not completely sound. The cast on his left foot reached halfway up his calf, and he had had to cut off most of his pant leg to get dressed. But beyond the heavy cast and even more ghastly sight of Earl’s exposed thigh and bare toes, Brad was concerned about his friend losing his innocence. Furthermore, seeing Jade inside such a sleazy joint might sour the pair’s relationship. But all those thoughts were put aside when he heard the price of the cover charge.
“Forty bucks for the two of us?” he blurted out.
“You each buy one highball and get free refills inside,” the bartender said.
“Yeah. If the staff ever shows up again. Come on, Skeeter. We’re taking our business elsewhere.”
“Hey buddo,” Earl whispered. “This ain’t China. You can’t haggle over these things.”
Earl was right. The sign on the wall was emphatic. “Bottomless drinks $20.” Surely a place like that had other sources of income.
Earl leaned his crutches against the counter and asked that very question. “So how exactly do you make a buck in this biz?”
“We’ve got girls who rely on tips,” the bartender explained. “Each one needs to bring in ten tips of ten dollars each before they can start keeping ’em.”
“Tip them for what?” Earl said.
The guy gave him a funny look. “Why are you here?”
Earl gave the man a crude leer.
“Look. No screwing the girls. You gotta go to the next county for that.”
Earl was not sold. “So what do you offer?”
“Plenty. We’ve got a main stage with constant live action all night.”
“Table dancing?” Earl asked.
“No-contact table dances,” the man stipulated.
Brad didn’t even know what they were talking about.
“Lap dancing?” Earl asked.
Brad rolled his eyes.
“Lap dancing? You bet,” the bartender said. “You’ll find private lap areas surrounding the floor. They’re okay, but here’s a tip. Forget those and head upstairs.”
“Why?
What’s up there?” Brad asked. What more could they make May do?
“We’ve got a VIP area for hardcore lappers.”
Earl let out a low whistle.
The man gave Earl a wink. “And a theme area. The theme this week is a little girl’s bedroom.”
“Could be interesting,” Earl reflected.
“Upstairs we’ve also got a micro stage where the girls do some pole work.” The man leaned close with more advice. “The pole spins and the tables are right up to the stage.”
“Sold,” Earl said, and slapped his twenty down.
“Come on.” Brad forked over a twenty, but didn’t wait for his drink. He yanked his friend back onto his crutches and headed down the corridor. A doorway opened onto a room with a stage. To one side, men sat at round tables, and nicely toned women stood atop their tables and writhed to hip-hop music.
Spotlights flashed across the empty stage. Pin lights reflected off a mirrored ball that spun over the crowd. The décor wasn’t impressive. It looked like a remodeled Denny’s with one very loud sound system. And, of course, they were serving moons over Las Vegas.
One quick look told him that May wasn’t one of the dancers on the tables. After all, she didn’t typically wear her g-string so low across her hips.
Nor could he make out Liang in the crowd. There was enough light to see the ruddy faces around the room, and there were no Asians in the lot.
Then the song came to an abrupt end and the room fell silent. Apparently the dancers had been grooving to a jukebox and it took a moment to mechanically change tunes. During the pause, several men signaled the dancers down off their tables, and they strolled together to a series of partitioned rooms that bordered the main floor. How romantic.
“Let’s check out that girl’s bedroom upstairs,” Earl said.
At that moment, an emcee’s voice boomed over the sound system. “Gentlemen, get ready to ride!. We’ve got an outstanding new addition to tonight’s program. It’s my distinct pleasure to introduce two cowgirls, Ginger and Lola, riding herd right here in cattle country.”
The song “Rawhide” geared up and two of the finest-looking chicks Brad had ever seen strutted out on stage. Their cowgirl hats tilted suggestively over their faces, they clunked onstage in cowboy boots complete with spurs. The only fabric between hat and boots were tightly stretched denim cut-offs.
