Highway To Armageddon (39 page)

           
We then stop at a nearby gun store and ask the owner if he has any electric
swords. At first he acts like he doesn’t know what we’re talking about, since
they’re illegal to sell, but after we flash our tats he grins and leads us into
the back room. There we come across bazookas, rocket launchers, EMP bombs,
nerve gas canisters, and even material to make a dirty bomb. This guy totally
needs to be investigated by the feds. But we can worry about that later. Right
now we need the final piece of our disguise… the Russian weapon of choice, the
electric sword.

           
The shopkeeper takes us behind yet
another
locked door, where he opens a
steel vault. I find it amazing the electric swords are more well hidden than
the dirty bomb kit. The shopkeeper gestures toward a glass cabinet containing
dozens of the prized illegal weapons.

           
“Aren’t they beautiful?” he asks, his eyes glistening as he stares at the
blades in awe.

           
“Yes they are,” Machete says lustfully.

           
Machete and the shopkeeper should hook up. They both have a psychotic love for
weapons.

           
The shopkeeper opens the glass case and shows us how the swords work. He flips
the handle around in his hand to show us how easy they are to wield and
conceal. He then presses a trigger on the handle. A gleaming, two-foot long
sword pops out of the end. Another button sends a current of crackling
electricity washing over the blade. The last button heats the blade until it
glows red. The shopkeeper concludes his presentation by pulling out a block of
concrete and cleaving it in two.

           
“Awesome little gadget, isn’t it?” the shopkeeper says.

           
“Yes it is,” Machete says, licking her lips. Her infatuation with instruments
of torture is
disturbing.          

           
“So how many of these bad boys do you want?” the shopkeeper asks.

           
I glance at Lance and Arrow. “Three.”

           
“Make it four,” Machete blurts out.

           
“Hell, I want one, too,” Krystal hollers.

           
Dorothy is the only one with enough decency not to request such a vile weapon.

           
The shopkeeper greedily rubs his hands. “That will be $50,000.”

           
“$50,000?!” Krystal hollers. “What a scam!”

           
We fork over the funds anyway, of course. We all place our thumbs against the
shopkeeper’s portable scanner and transfer ten grand from each of our accounts.
Arrow also buys another quiver full of arrows, and we all load up on extra
ammo. We then hi-tail it out of there and head to a small diner down the street
to get some supper while we finalize our plan. The sky has just started to turn
dark, but it’s still too early for us to be waltzing into Igor’s club. It’s
best to wait until it’s much later, when he and his henchmen are inebriated
from a night of partying. (My research suggests Igor loves his vodka.) The less
coherent Igor is, the more likely we can convince him to let us join his gang.

           
We all squeeze into a booth in the back of the quaint diner and order some
sandwiches. We quickly find out how effective our disguises are. The waitress
is petrified when she takes our order. She keeps glancing at our purple hair
and leather jackets. And when Arrow removes his jacket, exposing his purple
dragon tattoo, the waitress nearly drops her tray of drinks. She scurries into
the back to place our order, and when she brings the food out about ten minutes
later she nervously stammers, “The… the boss said the f… f… food is on the
house. En… enjoy!” She then dashes into the back.

           
The other people in the restaurant scarf down their food and quickly leave.

           
“Man, this is awesome,” Arrow says. “Everyone thinks we’re Russian mobsters. We
could probably walk into a convenience store and get anything we want for
free.”

           
“We’re using our powers of impersonation for good, not evil,” I say half-jokingly.

           
Everyone digs into their sandwiches. I take a small nibble of mine, but I’m not
terribly hungry, even though I’ve barely eaten anything in days. I’m too
anxious about what we’re getting ready to do. I usually never get freaked out when
we’re on a mission, but this is different. It’s the biggest, most dangerous
operation of our lives, and it has global implications. The stakes couldn’t be
higher.

           
“Why you not eatin’, Boom Boom?” Krystal asks, food flying out of her mouth. “Ain’t
you hungry?”

           
I’m so disgusted that she’s talking with her mouth full that I can’t help but
snap, “No, I’m not. Now can you please chew with your mouth shut?”

           
Krystal gives me the evil eye. “Well excuse me for not being as perfect as you.
Jeez, you and Lance have been awfully grumpy ever since you gave up your drugs.
You both could use a joint and some pills.”

           
“Shut up, Krystal,” Lance says. “Boom Boom and I are trying very hard to get
over our addiction, and it doesn’t help when you crack jokes about it.”

           
“I’m not cracking jokes, I know exactly what you’re going through. I go through
withdrawal when I don’t get my daily dose of bacon. That’s why I’ve been
grumpy. While we’re on the topic, does anyone have any bacon on them?”

           
“Sorry, I left it in my other pants,” Arrow says, deadpan.

           
We finish eating and head out so the waitress doesn’t have a heart attack.
Since we got the meal for free we leave a big tip.

           
We head back to the motel and finish figuring out our plan. I check out Igor’s
casino on my goggles to try and figure out where he might be. His casino has an
actual giant statue of a purple dragon sitting in a fountain, with its wings
spread out like it’s about to take flight. Every 60 seconds a ball of fire
shoots out of the dragon’s snarling mouth. It’s a pretty kickass statute, if I
do say so myself.

           
The casino consists of two 1,000-foot tall, sparkling crystal towers connected
by four separate walkways, the last one connecting both roofs. The casinos are
in the basement and lower levels. The middle levels are hotels, restaurants,
and stores. The upper levels are more casinos and clubs. The top floor in the
left tower is the most prestigious Russian club in New Las Vegas, the Purple
Dragon Lounge. I bet all the gold in China that the Purple Dragon Lounge is
where we’ll find Igor. I relay all this to Lance and the gang, and they agree
it’s as good a place as any to start our hunt for Rasputin.

           
After that we work on our codenames and fake backgrounds. It’s not enough to
look like a Russian mobster. We have to act and talk like ones, too. I decide
to call myself Ruby. Arrow picks Arkady, and Lance chooses Vladimir.

           
We go over our backstories, repeating them until they’re drilled into our
heads, then we work on our Russian accents. Arrow gets pretty good at his, but
Lance just sounds like he’s constipated. I actually know a little Russian, so I
practice a few common sayings, like
‘Pass the vodka, comrade’
and
‘It’s
a beautiful day to kill some Chinese’
.

           
I had hoped my immersion in the Russian language would get my mind off the
mission, but it does little to calm my nerves. I’d do almost anything to get my
hands on some pills.

           
When the clock finally strikes midnight, Machete growls, “Let’s roll.”

           
Lance, Arrow and I leave most of our weapons in the motel. Igor’s not going to
welcome us with open arms if we have guns and tear gas grenades dangling from
our utility belts. We do keep our electric swords, though. I also strap a few
blades inside my boots. You can never be too safe when dealing with mobsters.

           
The short flight to the Purple Dragon Casino is eerily quiet. No one makes
small-talk, no one cracks jokes. Everyone recognizes the seriousness of what
we’re about to do. This is what we came to do. This is the End Game.

           
Machete drops us off half a mile from the Purple Dragon, so we can blend in
with the crowd.  

           
“We’ll be on the roof of a hotel across the street,” Machete says.

‘          
“If you need help, holler the password,” Krystal says. “You remember what it
is?”

           
“Yeah,
help,
” Lance says.

           
You can tell none of us are very good at these stealth missions.

           
Dorothy leans over the side of the car and kisses Lance on his cheek.

           
“Be careful,” she whispers.

           
Lance cups her chin. “I will. Don’t worry, everything will be fine. We’ll be
back in Sanctuary 7 before you know it.”

           
Dorothy grins. “I can’t wait.”

           
I’m proud of myself for not grimacing. I’m actually starting to get used to
Lance and Dorothy being a couple. I think.

           
Machete and the girls lift off the ground and zoom toward their hotel lookout.

           
“You guys ready?” Arrow asks, adjusting his goggles. He looks so vulnerable
without his bow and arrow.

           
“Ready as we’ll ever be,” I reply.

           
The only two guys I’ve ever had feelings for walk side by side with me as we
make our way toward our target. We do our best to avoid the drunk tourists and
gamblers staggering out of the casinos, celebrating their lucky wins or, as is
more often the case, lamenting their lousy luck. I cringe at the thought of so
much money being blown on a roulette table, or during a round of blackjack.
Countless millions that could feed the hungry, clothe the cold, and shelter the
homeless. It truly is disgusting that so many starve while the wealthy few go
through their piles of cash like Krystal goes through toilet paper after
gorging on bean burritos (something she does regularly).

           
Even though I’m tense and anxious, I do take in my surroundings. The Vegas
Strip is everything the brochures say it is, and more. Bright, neon lights
illuminate the entire town. I peer inside several casinos and clubs and see
thousands of people hooting and hollering over crap tables, butchering songs
during karaoke hour, laughing at stand-up comedians, and giving standing
ovations to cabaret singers. Everyone seems oblivious to the fact that the
world’s most wanted terrorist is in their midst, or that a war is on the
horizon. Ignorance truly is bliss.

           
The thing I love most about the Strip is all the music that spills out of the
surrounding clubs. Classic and contemporary rock, jazz, alternative, you name
it. As soon as you walk far enough along for one song to fade into the
background, another song pops up off in the distance, increasing in volume the
closer you get to its source.

           
Magicians stand near back alleys, performing card tricks and making bunny
rabbits disappear in a cloud of smoke. They must be pretty decent tricksters
because they’re attracting large crowds. There are also a few street musicians
playing jazz on their saxophones, their suitcases overflowing with cash and
gold coins from generous passerbys.

           
We walk past a 24-hour buffet, and the enticing aromas that waft over me unleash
a waterfall in my mouth, as if a dam inside my saliva glands suddenly burst.
Lance and Arrow stare longingly through the window at the smorgasbord of fried
chicken, country ham, mashed potatoes, multi-colored gelatins, and piles of
buttery vegetables. None of us have eaten much during the past several days,
and certainly not enough to compensate for all the calories we burned waging
war against Nazis, cyborgs, psychotic cowboys, and Mother Nature herself. I
probably lost close to ten pounds from all the hiking, running, brawling, and
lack of sleep. I can feel my ribs if I press down on my stomach. Lance and
Arrow look a little gaunt in their faces. The sooner we get back to Sanctuary
7, the sooner we can refuel our undernourished bodies. I personally can’t wait
to spend several hours soaking in a hot bubble bath. The dirt and grime
encasing my body is driving me bonkers.

           
After walking half a mile through the congested Strip, we finally reach the
Purple Dragon Casino and Resort. The fountain with the dragon statue is in the
center of the courtyard. The dragon is incredibly detailed, with gleaming
scales and glowing eyes.

           
I focus my attention on the resort itself. I have to crane my neck just to see
the top of the monolithic structure. It truly is an awe-inspiring spectacle.
The resort consists of two cloud-touching crystal towers that are capped by
spires that spiral into the Heavens. The towers sparkle under the moonlight.
Walkways connect the towers at four separate points. Even from the Strip I can
see hundreds of people walking to and from each tower.

           
Lance points at the top of the tower on our left.

           
“That’s Igor’s private club. I wonder if I can see through the windows.”

           
Lance steps all the way back to the fountain, right in front of the dragon, and
looks up. He uses the zoom function on his goggles to peer inside. This would
be easier if we had thought to buy a new robotic mosquito. Unfortunately those
are incredibly expensive, and our funds are tight at the moment.