Deadly Paths Read online

  "Yeah!" Carlo snapped. "What is it? This isn't really a good time!"

  "Really sir?" The woman said a little too smugly. "I apologize, I know you must be getting ready for your role you are going to play on the show this evening, but we needed to change the location for your appearance."

  Shit! Carlo stamped his foot and mouthed the word, but did not say it. He had almost forgotten all about this little publicity stunt. His blond companion was making pouty faces at him now, and Carlo wished even more that he hadn't picked up the phone.

  Carlo rubbed his hand over his shiny shaved head as he tried to remember all the details. He was supposed to let some reality TV show contestants pretend to be spies and play him for information. The producers of the show were going to use his new hotel's grand opening as some kind of backdrop for the "bad guys" to be doing their dirty work. And the winner would figure out the evil plot and save the day. The irony of it all amused Carlo greatly.

  "Yeah?" Carlo prompted, still annoyed. He was losing his hard on fast. "Where is it now?"

  "Outside Caesar's Palace, just across from your new hotel."

  "What? " Carlo fumed. "What would I be doing out there? I thought it was going to be here in the Luxor. High stakes gambling or something."

  "What is it, Carlo?" whined the buxom blond. "Who is that?"

  Carlo held up a pacifying finger. "Just a minute, baby."

  The woman on the line was unapologetic. "Last minute press conference and photo-op for the media. Then you're going to kick off the Chinese New Year festivities at Caesar's. Our "Evil organization" will do a fake hit. The producers decided it was time to shake things up a bit."

  "Alright, alright fine, sweet cakes," Carlo said, as he glanced at the bimbo crawling seductively toward him. "I just need an extra fifteen or twenty minutes to get ready and arrange a limo."

  "One's already been arranged, sir."

  "Of course!" coughed Carlo as the woman crawled forward again and began teasing him in very unfair ways. "I won't be long! Maybe after this I can meet the hottie who this pretty voice belongs to?"

  "See you there, sir." The female voice said, ignoring his invitation. Then the woman hung up.

  Carlo hung up the phone. Bitch. Her loss.

  He smiled wickedly down at the woman servicing him. No, thought Carlo, this wouldn't take long at all.

  * * *

  Grace Goodson sighed and took off her headset phone, tossing it aside on the small desk in the operating room. She rubbed her temples and put her elbows on the desk. She caught a shadowy reflection of her face in the computer monitor. Her brown eyes were bloodshot, her auburn curls hung in disarray, a result of wearing the wire-frame headset too long.

  "You alright?" A voice next to her asked.

  She glanced up at the young man next to her, Steve. He was new to the show to this season. It was all still very new and exciting to him. Even on a ten hour shift. Cameras for a reality show like this were going almost non-stop, and the pretend spy-work often went very late into the night. It began to wear on a body after three years of doing the show. But Steve didn't know that yet, and he didn't have to talk to high-roller jerks like Carlo Benedetto.

  "I'm fine, Steve, thanks." Grace said. "I just need another cup of coffee."

  "Are you sure?" asked the rookie. "I can handle things for a while, till we get to tonight's big event."

  "I'm sure," Grace said a little more curtly than she had meant to. She scrolled through twelve different camera views, jamming her finger on the button with angry thrusts each time a view came up and she decided the shot was where it needed to be.

  That man! Grace thought. Benedetto. The audacity he had to call her "sweet cakes" and then ask to meet her. The man had deserved to be slapped, at the very least. It was men like him that thought they could just do anything they wanted to anybody. The whole world was at their beck-and-call, his thousands of employees, television show executives, politicians, and even women as an entire sex were just pawns and playthings to men like him. Grace tried to concentrate back on monitoring the game. Fantasizing about all the different Benedetto's she'd like to give a kick in the nuts to right now would have to wait.

  The game had started with sixteen "spies" this time, as opposed to the twelve contestants of the previous two seasons. There were still fourteen of them left in this early point in the game, and the beginning of the show was always more difficult for her. It got easier once the number of contestants dropped to about eight or less, but that wasn't going to be for a long while yet. Seven women and seven men were left. The numbers made things perfect for the setup of this next mission.

  Each player would covertly meet a new contact, as was done on nearly every mission in the show. But this time things would get interesting as each man was paired with a woman, and the mission called for the pair to go undercover as engaged couples looking to get hitched in Vegas. It was one of Grace's favorite new set-ups this season. It promised to cause all sorts of sexy antics, provided Mr. Benedetto played along like he was supposed to. He was clearly more interested in his own sexual games, judging from the voice he had heard in the background during her phone call with him. Grace shook her head and blew out a puff of air. Thinking about it was just getting her angry again.

  Grace watched the three large high definition displays dominating the room carefully for a moment and checked the progress of the twelve active camera crews and twenty strategically located cameras. She routed the four most active cameras to her personal screen, and then checked the security camera feeds of the three Vegas hotels that had granted the network special access to make sure she wasn't missing anything.

  Four pairs of spies had already made contact, and were establishing their cover. This put them in the lead. The trick for each mission was to not only solve it but be the first to do it. These were the ones she wanted to focus on right now. There was Blade and Tora stationed in the Bellagio, Rain and Butch working the Four Seasons Hotel, and Jake and Nova staking out Casino Royal and Hotel. Grace knew that the first of these four to figure out that their target was really making an unscheduled stop at Caesar's palace, instead of playing in a high stakes game at the Luxor would probably win this round. Of course, the producers controlled the rules, and Grace was the one with the cameras. Sometimes it was all about chemistry and looking good. Grace took one look at the camera's following Jake and Nova, and recognized chemistry. Yes, those two were going to make for some good television indeed.

  Chapter Two

  Jake did his best to stifle a laugh. "Jake" wasn't his real name of course, but he had his reasons for choosing it. Besides, it had a nice ring to it if you used it with his true last name, which was Joyner. He wished he could keep it. Anything was better than his real name.

  "We're what?" Jake exclaimed. "Oh, I love this game!"

  "Keep it down will you?" Nova hissed. "Just because we're in an elevator doesn't mean its sound proof, and you're not exactly the most inconspicuous person you know."

  He refrained from correcting her. Technically it was incorrect to say they were on an elevator. The proper term was inclinator, as the lifts that took people into the higher levels of the Luxor pyramid had to be able to move at an odd angle to reach all of the floors. Jake leaned on a handhold and tried to keep his balance as the inclinator moved upward. The view of the atrium below was not so much breathtaking as it was entertaining – a bird's eye view of just about every form of entertainment a Vegas Casino had to offer, all dressed up around replicas of ancient Egyptian monuments and statues. His eyes followed several serving girls carrying drinks directly below him as they wandered between various gaming tables. He wondered if he would be able to discern a pattern to their movements, but they quickly passed out of view under his feet. A group of very attractive women piqued his interest as they made their way through the casino, headed toward one of the many bars, and a bemused smile crept to his lips as the perfect counter to his partner's jibe occurred to him.

  "Hey, I'm not the
one who's dressed like a local escort," he said with a smirk. "Honey."

  The woman who called herself, "Nova" punched him hard in the shoulder, right in the meaty part where his sister used to hit him when they played "slug bug" on long car trips. If there was one thing Jake had learned from having an older sister, it was that women were trouble— especially gorgeous ones with killer . . .

  "Watch it, Buck-o," Nova threatened. "I just may decide to go bad and pull a hit on you."

  Jake grimaced. There were two ways to win at "Spy Games." A player could go all the way fighting for truth, justice, and all that jazz on the side of the "Agency," or they could join up with the evil organization bent on world domination known only as "MANTA" and secretly become a double agent against the Agency. Being a bad guy meant the game would provide opportunities for a sly player to attempt a "hit" on other players, but you really had to do things right, because if your bid for a hit failed, you stood a good chance of exposing yourself as a traitor and getting executed from the game.

  "All I'm saying is you turn every head in a room when you come bouncing in," Jake said as he pantomimed having large breasts that he was having to adjust with his hands. "We might as well just have fun with this. We're not fooling anybody."

  "Ugh!" Nova growled in frustration. "But as I just told you, the cover story the Agency gave us says we're engaged. I wouldn't be caught dead with someone who dresses like you!"

  "You, or the woman you're pretending to be?" Jake asked.

  "Both!" Nova snapped. "Now come on, this is the floor."

  The inclinator chime dinged, and the doors opened into a lavish ballroom somewhere on the middle floors of the great famous pyramid shaped hotel known as the Luxor. The dance floor ahead was full of smartly dressed gentlemen in expensive designer clothes moving to a very classic Tango with lavishly dressed women wearing dresses that were probably worth more than Jake's entire home. Of course, his home was a beat up old boat anchored in a Seattle Harbor, but to Jake clothes were clothes.

  Beyond the dance floor a poker tournament was already underway. Just outside the roped off area designated for the tournament gathered a jeering and half drunken crowd of very rich people around a Craps table. Nova stepped briskly out of the elevator and headed straight for the poker tables.

  Jake caught her arm. He leaned seductively close to her ear, and she relaxed against his arm, playing her role.

  "How do I know you're not just making it up?" Jake purred. "I think you just want to be married to me."

  Nova dug her nails into his arm, and she turned to bat ga-ga eyes at him as they walked. Jake held his face in an adoring smile, even though his arm burned like fire from nails that were more like claws of a tigress at the moment.

  "Don't kid yourself, Dear," Nova purred sweetly. "I have information on the "how", and you had the "who". It's how it works in this game. You know that. They like to build the trust issues. Now get into character, it's time to play."

  They approached the sign in area to the poker tournament, which seemed would be getting underway shortly. Already there were five tables out of six that were full, with eight players each at the table. Jake strode up to the registration official, who was dressed in a tuxedo with a black bow-tie, and slapped a wad of cash on the table.

  "Well howdy there," Jake announced loudly in as thick a southern accent as he could muster. "Thanks for hold'en our places, me and the misses here are ready to play!"

  "Name, sir?" inquired the official, picking up a clipboard.

  "Ace Halloway, poker player extrodanare!" Jake said with a grin. "And this is my lovely little lady Mia. Smile at the nice man won't ya, Mia."

  The official checked his list, having not yet even touched the lump of bills bound with a thick rubber band.

  "I'm sorry, sir, you're not on the list. This tournament was pre-arranged and had a ten thousand dollar buy in."

  "Aw fiddlesticks, that's chump change. Why, that's the same as the World Series buy in! Almost every wanna-be online player worth his spit can play for that!" Jake said loudly as he walked over to the man and put an arm around him, whispering in his ear just loudly enough so that just about anyone standing at a moderate distance could still here him speak. "This two thousand here in cash is extra, and it's just for you if you'll let me in the misses here play. Our account numbers are on the slip of paper in the middle."

  In truth the account numbers on the slip of paper belonged to the agency. Each mission had a pre-arranged sum on the account. Anything a contestant spent had to be explained to the agency, and if it did not approve or the player went over the limit, that person might find himself handicapped for cash in the next mission. Both Nova and he had been surprised at first at the fifteen thousand dollar amount allotted for this mission. Jake might have been happy just to take that amount as a consolation prize and leave the game. There was probably some sort of an arrangement with Benedetto for this episode.

  "I'm sorry sir," said the skinny, blunt nosed official. "But I just can't do that. The tournament list is full and the other players will be arriving shortly."

  "Oh hawgwash," Jake said. "There's always someone who doesn't show. If they come late just tell them you are sorry but you had to let an alternate on the waiting list play and refund their buy in. This way, if they don't show, you don't lose the buy in."

  The official seemed to consider this, then scowled and shook his head. He began to close off the velvet rope that cordoned of the entrance.

  "Oh please, sir," Nova whined a bit like a spoiled teenager. Jake hoped the official didn't see him roll his eyes. Nova laid two delicate hands on the official, and straightened his bowtie while she twirled her hair and bent over just the right amount for him to see down her dress. "We came all this way just to help support the new hotel. Can't you just do us a teensy weensy little favor?"

  The official seemed to be holding his breath. At last he cleared his throat and gestured Jake and Nova through. He gave them each a tray of chips, but didn't forget to pocket the stack of bills.

  "Thank you," Nova cooed. She gave the man a small quick peck on the cheek, and he blushed and turned away. "You're at table three, I suggest you move quickly, the first blinds are about to be placed."

  Seventeen hands later and Jake was doing well. Three players had already gone out. Nova herself was holding her own, and Jake had to admit she had style. She laughed and giggled, flirting and acting like she had no real idea what was going on—that her big shot poker player of a fiancée was just humoring her and letting her play. The frustrated players that took her for a rookie looked like they wanted to pull their hair out every time she won a hand. But through it all, there was no sign of their target.

  Jake did recognize two of the other contestants on "Spy Games" that he had worked with on previous missions. There could be no telling how many were actually here. You never met the other players until you were on a mission with them. One was actually at an adjacent poker table. The squat but proper looking Asian man with a goatee called himself Ming, and he gave Jake the creeps. Jake decided the only other woman at Ming's table, a fit looking blond woman in her forties, was probably his new partner.

  In addition, Jake had worked with the straight haired, tall, freckled red head that called herself "Rain" on the first mission. She was currently rolling the dice at the Craps table, and apparently doing well as the smartly dressed crowd placing bets at the table erupted into cheers. Rain smiled sweetly, but didn't waist time getting ready for her next roll. Jake remembered the woman took everything so seriously. Her partner had to be here somewhere, and Jake scanned the crowd for him.

  He stood out like a sore thumb, Jake observed, when he spotted the large, hulking man mixing it up by the bar almost immediately. He was so tall and large that he barely fit into the obviously hastily rented tuxedo. He tugged at his collar and then fumbled in his trousers for his wallet as his ordered drink was offered to him on the bar, and he kept unnaturally glancing around the room at anyone except the barte
nder he was supposed to be paying. Real subtle pal, Jake thought.

  But where is the host? Jake thought frustratingly as he considered his hand. Nova's part of the information said he was supposed to be here, making an appearance at this special newlywed ball arranged to bring in more young investors on board for the theme of the brand new, soon to open casino—a hotel celebrating the age old tradition of the Vegas wedding.

  Jake went ahead and voiced his thoughts aloud as he considered his pocket pair of queens with carefully hidden glee.

  "Now where do ya'll recon than ol' slick Benedetto is? That son of a gun is missing his own dang party!"

  Jake waited for a reaction from the four strangers at the table. The gay couple in the flamboyant deep magenta tuxedos merely looked at one another and shrugged. A man in his fifties with a cigar in his mouth and a full head of silvery hair slicked neatly back with too much gel snorted and simply called the minimum bet to start the round. A woman with very neat posture sat behind the older man looking very bored. She had a wealth of dark hair splashed with grey, and it was kept neatly in a modified hive style bun. She glanced at Jake for a moment, and then pretended not to hear as she busied herself with adjusting her bosom, which was set in a fancy red velvet blouse.

  A Japanese man with scraggily thin hair wearing a bow tie leaned forward with a little interest and asked, "Who Benedetto?"

  Jake understood that the trick to figuring out a game show like this one was to figure out who was an actor or actress following a script. It was these people one wanted to focus attention on in order to get the right information or directions to the next task to be completed. After watching the show himself for two seasons, Jake understood that often times players made the mistake of probing people for information who had nothing to do with the show. Sometimes these bystanders might inadvertently know something useful, but a contestant on Spy Games had to keep in mind that every objective had a script to it. Sometimes the actors would simply reveal themselves when you got to the correct location by handing you a challenge card, which usually included a choice of crazy stunts to be completed in order to advance in the mission. In most cases, however, it was a game of cat and mouse trying to find the right source of information. It was always best to keep the pre-mission clue in mind when searching for the show's actual participants.