Nic Viernes nearly ran over five people in the garage of the Silver
Legacy Hotel and Casino. He needed to have a space on the floor that connected
directly to the casino. The damn elevators were always too packed with morons
who held the door for at least twenty people, a false idea of civility in Reno.
The faster he made access to the casino, the sooner he’d find the elevator that
counted.
After driving down two lanes, he found a spot…right next to Dwayne’s
Honda! Nic got out and felt Dwayne’s hood. It was cold. The kid had arrived
long before. Nic cursed himself for not getting things done sooner that
evening. He rushed through the several parking lanes that stood between him and
the casino walkway. Inside was much worse…slow-walking people!
Taking several shortcuts through slot and video poker machine alleys,
Nic made his way eventually to the hotel check-in desk, where there was a long
line of people. It was Friday, after all, and the morons from California were
cramming in for the weekend. He checked the clock. It was 11:50p.m.
Pulling out his badge, Nic rushed to a window that was marked closed.
“Police business! I need help!”
A short, curly-haired clerk walked slowly to him, letting Nic know he
was not to be rushed. “Can I help you?”
“I need to know which elevator will take me to the 35th
floor.”
The clerk’s eyebrows went up in disbelief. “The penthouse suites?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you expected?”
“Probably not.”
“Then I expect you to move away from this desk, sir.”
Nic flashed his badge, which didn’t impress the little shit. “Should we
try again?”
“No. The last person who asked for that suite also flashed one of those,
but, lucky for him, he was expected. Now go away!”
Nic grabbed the shit’s jacket lapel. “Look, junior, the man in that
suite is a murderer. If you don’t let me up there, you’ll be an accessory to
murder. Am I fucking clear?”
“You’re wrinkling my jacket.”
“And if the court doesn’t find you guilty of obstructing justice, I’ll
hunt you down. Nobody will convict me, because I’m a nice guy. Nobody would
believe that a nice guy like me would hunt a pencil-dick like you to the grave.
Now, where’s the fucking elevator?”
Within a minute, one of the casino officials escorted Nic to an
elevator, and then placed a key into the control panel. Without a word, the man
walked out and the door closed. The elevator started moving quickly. Nic looked
at the control panel. Only floors 20 through 34 were listed…..35 was not even
mentioned.
Finally, the door opened and Nic stepped into a short hallway. There was
only one door and it was at the end: 3500. Nic pulled out his gun and slowly
walked toward the door. It was slightly ajar…not a good sign. He slowly pushed
it open, revealing a quite spacious foyer and living area. A kitchen was off to
the left, with an attached bar. The whole place was either wallpapered or
expertly painted with white dice, all ones or sixes. The couches and chairs in
the living room were white vinyl. Between the two couches lay the body of
Dwayne Behrens, a single shot through the chest. Nic turned around, saw a
bottle of scotch near the bar, grabbed it and threw it against the wall. How could I let him go this alone? he
thought. This whole damn deal was too
good to be true! He looked down at Dwayne and then knelt down, patting the
Dwayne’s shoulder. “My fault, kid. But I’ll make it right. Yeah, but in my style, not the police.
Dwayne looked surprised in his death stare. He most likely did not see
it coming. Wells had probably let him in, even chatted him up a little,
offering a drink and telling his life story. Then, without warning, Wells got
up, seeming to get a refill of what had been in his glass, then turned around
with a silenced weapon and shot Behrens dead on. Yes, that seemed to be a
likely scenario.
Nic started pacing. This one would be hard to explain to the boss. The
guy knew Nic was coming after Wells, but was a bit in the dark about Dwayne’s
role. The issue that was on Nic’s mind was not the boss’s reaction. It was
where to find Wells.
He went to the hotel phone in the kitchen. All he needed to do was pick
it up. A voice soon answered, and it didn’t sound like the pencil dick. “Yes?”
“This is the guest of the guest in room 3500. I seem to have missed him.
Has he come down this evening?”
“No, sir. Only 2 people have been let up since 11. Mr. Wells returned at
6:30 this evening.”
“Thank you.” As Nic hung up, he heard a noise…..a motor! A chirruping
motor sound from outside. A helicopter! No wonder the man wanted a penthouse
suite, probably the most expensive one: it gave access to a helipad.
Nic found the door to the outside and saw it immediately. He pulled out
his gun. Not the service revolver, but his own special Glock. He aimed
carefully and shot 2 slugs into the center of the rear rotor. The mechanism
sparked and hissed, then went dead.
As he moved forward, he saw Roman Wells, dressed as he had been for
dinner, rush out of the now-useless mode of transportation. He had his own gun
and aimed it at Nic. Nic aimed for him, too. Wells smiled. It wasn’t a
desperate escape for him, it was all part of the plan.
The helicopter finally went dead. As the rotors slowed down, Wells spoke
first. “I didn’t expect to see you again.”
“Why did you make a deal with us and then shoot him?”
“I had to. It was part of my contract.”
“Your contract was to shoot Dwayne?”
“My contract is to shoot anyone who comes into contact with the key. No,
I stand corrected. My contract is to shoot anyone who comes into contact with
the files I am giving you access to.”
Nic shook his head. “You make no sense to me.”
“My employer-no, my client believes that the files have escaped his
town. He knows nothing of the key which, if you’ll search your partner’s body,
is in his shirt pocket. He more than earned it, and truly did not deserve his
fate.”
“No, he didn’t. So, when I come into contact with the files, you’ll kill
me?”
Wells looked down and closed his eyes. The rotor had come to a complete
stop, so he lowered his voice. “Tonight marks the end of my contract. You must
believe that.”
“You reneged on our deal, I have no reason to trust you.”
“Of course you do. The money was paid and you got your key. He had to
die because the client made the unfortunate mistake of calling while Dwayne was
with me. He is paranoid, and wanted the death. It was an act of reluctance on
my part.”
“Like the death of Damien Tyler?”
Roman Wells smiled sadly. “You’re good.”
“Just playing a part.”
“Damien knew he was going to die.”
“You were at least good enough to not shoot him in the back.”
“I never do that, detective. In fact, I make sure my marks are looking
right at me. It may sound crazy, but I consider it an act of respect to the
people I kill.”
“Damien knew you were his killer?”
“Yes. He was probably surprised it happened so soon, but I think he was
relieved that I did it instead of some goon from New York. He was a man under
pressure from all sides.”
“And you let the pressure bleed out.”
“So to speak, yes.” Wells cocked his head. “You said you were playing a
part.”
“I’m not a true cop.”
Wells stared at Nic for a long moment before breaking into a smile.
“Nicolas Viernes! You’ve brought a few of our members in over the years. When
you disappeared we assumed you were dead.”
“Reno can be death.”
“It has been for your partner. Did you know there’s a price on your
head?”
“I’m sure there is. But you won’t collect on it.”
“Why not?”
“For some reason you want me to use that key to nail your client.”
“Nicolas, the world is full of evil people. I am not one of them. These
people, however, are scary. That’s why I am disappearing tonight.” Roman turned
to look at the helicopter. “Just later than expected.”
“Ted Clayton scares you?”
“It’s his backers. There seems to be a whole league of people that he
controls, and another league that controls him. He may be the most untouchable
man you try to get at. Incidentally, watch your celery intake.”
“What?”
“If you dig, you’ll learn.”
Nic kept his gun on Wells. “Whatever. You’re under arrest.”
Wells nodded a solemn nod, one that spelled of a strange certainty. “So
it’s this way.” He raised his gun again, a fraction too late. Nic’s bullet
caught him between the eyes. Wells staggered back, and almost seemed to be raising
his gun again, but Nic fired again. The bullet pounded against Wells’s chest,
which most likely was padded with armor. The force knocked Wells over the
railing and down the 35 floors to the street.
Nic didn’t look down. He shook his head and walked to the helicopter.
The pilot was in shock. “What just happened?”
“Some other way, I guess.” Nic looked toward the railing. “What other
way did he think it would end? Walk into the sunset?”
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