Stalker's Luck (Solitude Saga Book 1) (11 page)

In amongst the rich foreign socialites, a woman paced and drank and slid a stack of chips onto a green felt mat, all with the nervous twitch of a habitual stim user. To the tourists, she was invisible. To the floormen dealing cards and supervising games, she was a walking pile of vin.

“A lot of staff around,” Dom noted. “Why are they still working when they’re all about to die?”

“That’d be Mr Leone’s doing,” Knox said. “Word is he has a way off the station. And he has a reputation for taking care of his own. All these poor saps are praying to the Great and Just Lord Feleti Leone to save them. And all they have to do is put on a red suit and a smile and take these tourists’ money.”

The universe really was filled with fools. Or maybe desperation just bred foolishness. She was no exception.

She put the thoughts aside. She had a job to do.

“Where would this private elevator be?” she asked Knox.

“My bet? Central column.” He pointed to the centre of the wide casino floor. A silver pillar a few metres in diameter rose from the floor to the ceiling’s highest point. There were two mezzanine floors above them, and the uppermost one extended all the way from the wall to the column.

“Entrance up there?” Dom said.

“Your guess is as good as mine, darling,” Knox said.

The two of them found the stairs and headed to the upper levels. Up here, the guests’ clothing became more expensive. Dom became even more self-conscious.

As they ascended to the upper mezzanine, a set of doors came into view on the central column. They were flanked by a pair of red-suited security. Dom let her gaze slide past them. She was conscious that Knox was drawing occasional glances, and she wasn’t doing much better. Nothing particularly suspicious about a dwarf or a large woman, but they’d be remembered if something happened.

She settled herself on a stool at a slot machine shaped to look like an old battle cruiser. Knox looked it over with a sneer.

“It’s supposed to be the Nador Three,” he said. “Solar Federation vessel. The Fringe forces tore these things to pieces by the dozen during the Gravity War. The fucking crates couldn’t turn. Fringe fleet would just open up a Gypsy trail, jump in behind them, and broadside them with grav beams. Then jump away again before the fleet could mount a response. Typical Solars. Big dicks, all right, but they didn’t know how to use them.”

“Delightful,” she said. “Is that what they teach you about in the Radiance? An old war that no one remembers?”

“It’s a shame, really. I wish I’d got the sort of practical education I hear you New Calypsans got. What did they teach you? How to turn an empty beer can into an improvised explosive? The delicate art of applying Molotov cocktails to a line of police recruits?”

She set her jaw and turned away from the augment so he wouldn’t see how close he’d hit. She grabbed hold of the slot machine’s lever and tugged it down. The dials didn’t spin.

She felt—rather than heard—Eddie come up behind her. By now she could recognise his thick aftershave anywhere.

“You’ll need some chips if you want to have a spin on that,” he said, his voice barely distinguishable above the excited rumble of wins and losses and whirling colours echoing up from the lower floors. He pushed a small crimson sack into her hand. When she opened it, it was filled with low denomination casino chips. She took one out and put it in the machine. Pulled the lever. Lights flashed and the dials spun. They died with a sad beep. A bust.

“Security’s all packing,” Eddie said. “And the pit bosses are on alert.”

“So don’t try to cheat any games.”

“Too late,” he said. “Where do you think all those chips came from?”

She couldn’t tell if he was joking. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

“Elevator’s over there,” she said, pointing with her eyes. One of the guards on duty beside the elevator doors pulled out his tab and answered a call. The other yawned.

“Seen anyone go through yet?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, we’ve only got one of these here fancy silver chips,” Eddie said. “I’m guessing that means only one of us is getting upstairs. And since you two are dressed like a couple of bums at a job interview, it’s probably going to have to be me.”

“I resent that,” Knox said.

Eddie shrugged. “Resent it all you like, Jack. Who wants to spot me half a million vin?”

“I can tell you exactly where you can stick your head to go looking for it,” Dom said.

“Come on. I’m dressed the part to get up there, but I need the cash. They’re not going to let me gamble in the high rollers room with my pocket lint.”

“Take this, then.” Dom shoved the sack of chips back into his hand.

“Are you kidding? That wouldn’t even buy me a martini up there. Look, anything I bet, I’ll make back.”

“By cheating,” she said flatly.

“Not if I get lucky.”

She sighed. “You’re going to get us both killed one day. It won’t even be exciting. Some pit boss is just going to walk up behind us and put one in each of our heads.”

She dug her cash card out of her wallet and held it out. He grabbed it, but she didn’t let go.

“Two hundred thousand,” she said carefully. “Not a single vin more. Not if you want us to have enough left to pay for fuel off this damn station.”

He grinned. “Whatever you say, Boss.”

She reluctantly released the card and he strolled over to a chip exchange desk on the wall behind them. With a scowl on her face, she watched him swipe the card across the desk. The woman behind the counter slid a stack of chips to him.

“That’s a lot more than two hundred thousand,” Knox observed.

“I know,” she said.

“Does that make you mad?”

“Would you like me to show you how mad it makes me?”

“I don’t know.” He gave her a leer. “Maybe I would. You might be sexy when you’re angry. It can’t make you any worse, anyway.”

She regretted not shooting him in the chapel.

Eddie returned with his sack of chips, took one look at her face, and smiled at her.

“Sorry. Couldn’t resist.” He shook the sack and closed his eyes in bliss. “But would you listen to that clink. Sounds like heaven, doesn’t it?”

She snapped her fingers and he handed her back the cash card.

“I saw a security station down on the ground floor when I was walking around,” he said. “If you want to make yourself busy while I’m upstairs living it up.”

“I might be able to access the building plans on their systems,” Knox said. He smiled like he was thinking of something.

“What?” she said.

“What?”

“Why are you smiling?” she said.

The smile vanished and he shrugged. “I was just thinking we might be able to find their central servers that way. Maybe even find us a way in that doesn’t involve gambling away all our money in the high rollers room.”

“
My
money,” Dom said. “Not ours. Mine. You get your share of whatever’s on Williams when we find him.” She directed a glare at Eddie. “No cheating.” She looked at Knox. “And no hacking the casinos computers to steal their money.”

The augment frowned. “Were you reading my mind? What sexual position am I thinking of right now?”

“I’ve spent plenty of time around criminals. I’m familiar with the stupid things they think of. I don’t want us to come to Feleti Leone’s attention. We stay quiet, we get what we need to, and we find Roy Williams. That’s the job. Okay?”

Knox put his hands up in surrender. “Fine, fine.”

“Eddie?” she said.

“You’re the boss. Are we done?”

“Keep the line open on your tab. You have your glasses?”

He pulled a pair of thin-rimmed spectacles out of his pocket and slipped them on. She brought up her tab and connected to the speaker hidden in the spectacles’ earpiece.

“Can you hear me?” she said into the tab.

“Loud and clear, Freckles.”

He leaned over her, slipped a chip into the slot machine, and pulled the lever. Three Gypsy Gates spun into place. The machine chirped delightedly. Chips poured into the cash tray.

“If I kill you, do I absorb your luck?” she said. “Is that how it works?”

He grinned, took one chip out of the tray, and left the rest. “Don’t get into too much trouble without me.”

He strolled away towards the elevator, pocketing the chip as he walked.

Knox cleared his throat. “So, if he doesn’t want all these…” He gestured to the chips. “…can I have them?”

“Touch them and I break your neck,” Dom said.

He looked mournfully at the chips. “At least buy me a drink, then.”

She sighed and shoved the chips into her pockets.

11

Eddie stopped in front of the goons wasting oxygen next to the elevator and gave them a good look at his teeth.

“Good evening, sir,” the one on the left said. Eddie got the feeling he’d only just started using words like “sir” and hadn’t quite got used to it. “Do you have your token?”

Eddie flicked the silver casino chip at him. The man caught it with both hands and examined it. Satisfied, he slipped it into a thin slot above the elevator call button. The doors hummed open and the slot spat the coin back out.

“Will you have any company joining you tonight, sir?” the man said as he handed Eddie back the chip.

“Not tonight,” he said, stepping into the elevator. “A man’s got to have some alone time. And what the wife doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” He winked at the guard.

The man just nodded. “Yes, sir. Enjoy your evening.”

The doors slid closed and the elevator began to move.

Eddie whistled to himself, checked his reflection in the mirror, and slicked back his hair. Then the door opened and he stepped out into a room of classical music and the smell of vanilla.

Something warm and young pressed itself against his arm.

“Good evening, sir.”

A pretty girl all of about sixteen smiled up at him with perfect teeth and blue eyes so big you’d need a nav console and a grav drive just to get from one corner to the other. Her red gown plunged so precipitously at both the front and back he wondered why she didn’t just go topless and be done with it.

“Evening,” he said. She remained attached to his arm. “Am I under arrest?”

She giggled a giggle that was as annoying as it was vapid. No wonder she was pressing her breasts against him so tight—they seemed to be the only thing she had going for her. “I’m Brittany. Would you care for an escort this evening?”

Escort? He glanced behind her and finally noticed the small crowd of beautifully boring men and women in red outfits waiting to ambush lonely high rollers. He guessed they must be playing the odds, shoving this schoolgirl at him instead of one of the well-muscled men.

“Is this your first time with us, sir?” Brittany said. She wrapped her fingers around his hand and gently pulled. “Come, let’s get you a drink. What’s your name, handsome?”

Handsome? Bloody hell.

“Mr Black,” he said.

“Lovely. Follow me, Mr Black.”

She practically skipped through the tiled entrance hall. Wide arches opened up into rooms on either side of him, each revealing gaming tables thick with black suits and cigar smoke. A cheer erupted from a blackjack table, the dealer smiling along with the winners.

Three more red-gowned pretties passed them. Each had a businessman or woman on their arm. The female escorts all shared their luscious smiles with him. Oh, how the rich lived.

The entrance hall ended and opened up into a wide, high-roofed chamber with three platforms of tables and chairs sloping progressively downward to a red-curtained stage at the far end. A handful of suited men and women nibbled on tiny portions of steak and chicken while seated at the tables. On the stage, a lone microphone stood on a stand against the crimson backdrop.

“When’s the show?” he asked.

“In about thirty minutes. Are you a music lover, Mr Black?”

“On occasion.”

“Then I’m sure you’ll enjoy the musical talents of Miss Mayweather.”

She led him over to a wide bar to the right of the main doors. If he wasn’t mistaken, the bar top was made of real wood, stained and polished.

The barman stood patiently with his hands behind his back. “What can I get you, sir?”

“Lotus blossom.” He paused and put on half a smile. “And a Bluen if you have one handy.”

“Certainly, sir.” The barman went to work, filling the shaker with ice and vodka and liqueurs. He shook the shaker with the kind of poised assurance that earned fifty thousand vin tips, then strained the liquid into a cocktail glass and garnished it with a leaf of mint and a small flower. When he’d prepared the drink to his satisfaction, he placed it on a napkin in front of Eddie. Next to it he laid another napkin and dropped a Bluen pill into the exact centre. That done, his hands slid behind him and he probably gave himself a little pat on the back for a job well done.

It’d been a long time since Eddie had been anywhere like this. He’d grown up with money—most of it embezzled by his father, of course, although he didn’t know that at the time. But he’d forgotten what it was like to be surrounded by this kind of extravagance. It didn’t feel right. Where was the grit? He wanted to feel some kind of texture when he ran his finger along the bar top. Even the Bluen tasted too clean when he slipped it under his tongue.

He hoped he had enough money to pay the tab when it was time to leave. He should’ve taken even more off Dom’s card.

As if on cue, a short crackle hummed through the earpiece of his glasses.

“Are you in?” Dom’s voice came through. “Cough if you can’t talk.”

He brought his fist to his mouth and gave a small cough, following it up with another sip of his cocktail.

“Just listen, then. We’re about to make our move on the security station. Knox says if he can plant some sort of gizmo he can access the basics from his tab. If we get the plans, we can guide you from here. And if you find the systems room, we’ll see about sending Knox up to access it. Tap twice if that’s okay.”

He made to scratch his ear and tapped twice on the side of his glasses.

“Roger,” she said. Then she was gone.

Eddie sat for another couple of moments with Brittany the escort casting him blank, pleasant smiles over her own drink. Every few seconds, she’d try some more small talk. As the last of the Bluen dissolved, he smiled back and picked up his cocktail.