CHAPTER 8
THE DESERT
I
Ella woke to sunlight on her face and moaned in discomfort. Her head ached and her mouth hurt it was so dry. She felt the movement of being in a vehicle before she opened her eyes. The blonde sat sleeping in the passenger seat and Mr. Brown driving the SUV, Ella sprawled across the seat. Mr. Brown looked at her in the rearview mirror and smiled, which made her look away.
She was wearing gray sweatpants and a white tee shirt she did not recognize and forced herself to sit. She placed her head in her hands and moaned again. She felt something cold against her arm and opened her eyes to see Mr. Brown extending a water bottle.
“Drink.” He commanded.
She did as he told her and drank, almost choking from drinking too much.
“Where are we?” She asked, looking out the window. She saw desert stretching across the horizon in every direction. In the far distance she could see mountains to the east and deserted bunkers in the west.
“The desert.” Mr. Brown said laughing. She sighed and began looking about her for her things. She found her phone and began tapping the screen, checking her messages.
“I need to call my agent, but I’m getting no reception.” She said to him.
“You will be able to call once we get to Carson City. I’m quite sure your phone will work as we get closer.”
“What about Ray? Is he alive?” She asked. The blonde had opened her eyes and both of them waited for Mr. Brown to answer.
“I don’t know.” He said after a minute.
II
Ray opened his eyes and saw George sitting in a plastic folding chair by the door. He heard the television and looking about him could see nobody else in the room. Tubes and wires of all sizes extended from his arms, hands and chest. He heard the intermittent beep of the monitors next to the bed. George was reading and appeared not to have noticed Ray.
“Where am I?” Ray asked, lifting his head.
“Desert Springs. There is a police detail outside the room. You are safe.”
“I feel comforted knowing Metro is on the case.” Ray said with a sneer. He turned his attention to the television. A financial analyst spoke into the camera.
Yesterday’s tragic terrorist act has sent shockwaves through the city of Las Vegas. The massacre at Club ____ spread to a widespread panic and looting that swept the Las Vegas Boulevard area. Gaming stocks associated with the city are tanking today as worries the violence is not yet over persist.
Ray gave an angry look at George and lifted himself in the bed, the pain shooting through his body.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” He snapped.
“Doctor’s orders.”
“Where is my IPAD?”
George handed the tablet to Ray and returned to his seat. Ray began tapping at the screen with furious speed.
“Getting these stocks on sale is making me a very happy man.” Ray said with a smile.
“Sir?” George said. “You’re in very serious condition and the city is far from stable. There are other things to worry about than your portfolio.”
Ray glared at George and tapped the screen hard, with emphasis.
“That was me getting MGM at a 40% discount. For the record, there is nothing more important than my portfolio. Keep that in mind.”
III
Ryan felt their eyes upon him in the dark, the only light in the room coming from a single candle, which burned in silence on a table. The constant whirring of the air conditioner struggling to keep the room cool filled the void of silence. Ryan could see the outlines of shapes surrounding the table and he waited for the attacks, the faces in the shadows numbering six.
"Speak!" He exclaimed, unable to tolerate the silence.
“We fear that your personal agenda regarding Ray will endanger our mission.” A man spoke. The man struck a match and lit a second candle. Ryan saw a man staring at him, head shaven to a close crop cut and a thick ragged face, with a broken pointed nose and full lips twisted into a snarl.
“Is it we or it is your opinion, Peter?”
“I believe I speak for everyone.” Peter said, looking around the room to nods of agreement.
“Tell me how I’m risking our goals.” Ryan said.
“There is no need to turn Ray to our cause. Ray and all like him, the rich, are the problem.”
“His resources might aid us in achieving victory.” Ryan countered.
Peter clucked his tongue and wagged a finger at Ryan.
“His money will make us slaves. Dissident teaches us to bring wrath upon all of those in the ruling class, with no regard for personal interests or opinions. Kill a rich man and save the world.”
“Life is not so simple.” Ryan said.
“Revolution is simple.” Peter yelled, pounding his palm on the table, which made the candles flicker.
Ryan took a deep breath and looked around him at the others. He ran a hand through thin blonde hair and attempted to gather his thoughts.
“Where is Marcus?” Ryan asked.
Peter smiled and lit a cigarette, taking a deep drag and exhaling in Ryan’s direction.
“It is better if I don’t tell you. Plausible deniability.” Peter said laughing.
IV
Ella followed Mr. Brown and the blonde inside a small brick house, all the while talking on the phone with her agent and handlers, giving assurances of her safety, while not giving details on her location. She followed through a living room furnished with black leather couches, a widescreen television and clear glass top tables into a bedroom. The blonde threw Ella’s dress and other belongings on a chair beside the bed and tapped her hand on the comforter.
Ella sat beside the blonde on the bed, her head still pounding with headache, her limbs sore from being dragged from the club.
“First, I want you to know Ray is doing well.” The blonde said, squeezing Ella’s hand.
“Thank you.” Ella said, wiping a tear from her eye. “I’m not like this, I swear.”
“Hush. We escaped a blood bath; a tear is okay with me.”
Ella looked at her, smiling in spite of the pain and the tension and the anxiety.
“Call me Mary.” The blonde said, extending her hand.
“Is that your…” Ella began, but Mary stopped her by placing a finger on her lips, silencing her.
Mary took a pill from her pocket and placed it into Ella’s hand. Ella looked at the yellow rectangle shaped pill before looking again at Mary.
“I don’t want to take a pill.”
“It will relax you. I don’t know how long we shall be here. I’ll make you something to eat, but for now, take this.”
Mary walked into the bathroom and returned with a small paper cup of water. Ella swallowed the pill and reclined on the bed, clutching her legs against her chest.
“Can I ask you a question, Mary?”
“Anything.” She answered.
“Are you and Ray a couple?”
Mary sighed and stood, making her way towards the door.
“It complicated. Can you be in a relationship with someone that pays you?”
“I don’t know.” Ella hesitated.
“Me either.” Mary said. “Try to get some sleep. I’ll wake you when dinner is ready.”
Ella closed her eyes as Mary shut the light and turned on the stereo, the sound of Mozart guiding her to sleep.
V
Ray gathered his belongings in a rush and followed George down the corridor of the hospital, the floor quiet at this late hour, no sign of the police detail assigned to his room.
“Fucking Metro.” He muttered under his breath as George pushed the door to the staircase open and vaulted them two at a time. Ray fought his body to keep pace with George; feeling immense pain in his shoulder even through the fog of pain killers numbed his mind. George paused for a moment on the bottom floor and Ray stumbled against him.
George opened the door and led Ray into the summer night heat of Las Vegas, the temperature still hovering around 90 degrees F. George ran in a crouch towards a late model white Toyota. He yanked the rear door open and pushed Ray into the back seat before slamming the door and jumping into the driver’s door. He gunned the car into traffic on Flamingo and pressed the accelerator, being careful not to attract attention from Metro.
“Get my laptop and erase the recent data from the computer.” Ray instructed as George pulled the car to a halt behind the restaurant. George hurried towards the door, Ray watching, gripping his phone.
His phone vibrated with a new message and Ray tapped the phone to see the word on the screen.
BOOM
He read the word a moment before he saw a blinding light flash from the back door, engulfing George in a ball of red fire, the force of the blast smashing the windows of the car into Ray’s face, launching the car into the adjoining building.
VI
Ella felt wetness on her face and opened her eyes to see a tiny dog’s face, a Chihuahua with black and tan fur and an under bite that made her small teeth jut out like a bulldog. She saw Mary standing in the doorway as she rubbed the Chihuahua’s belly.
“What’s her name?”
“Princess.” Mary answered.
“Princess what?” Ella persisted.
“Just plain old princess.” Mary said with a smile. “Dinner is ready, come out when you are ready to eat.”
Ella continued playing with princess, rubbing her shiny soft black fur.
“I’ll call you Princess Myrcella. That will be just between you and me.” She whispered to the dog.
Ella rose and walked towards the kitchen, Princess following close behind her. Mary stood over the stove, stirring a pot of pasta, looking the perfect part of a housewife with a white dress covered with pink flowers and a baby blue apron across her waist.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Ella asked, leaning over the stove, smelling the scents of garlic and onions mixed with basil and rosemary.
“Can you open a bottle of wine?” Mary asked. She turned towards Ella and kissed her forehead. Ella felt heat rushing to her face and in silence walked across the kitchen, grabbing the bottle of wine from the counter.
Mr. Brown began setting the table as he watched Ella open the wine. She poured three glasses, handing one to Mary and one to Mr. Brown.
“To excellent company.” Mary said. They touched glasses and drank.
Mr. Brown began pouring extra virgin olive oil and balsamic vinegar over a salad of baby spinach, mushrooms, bacon, red onions. He topped the salad with gorgonzola crumbles. Mary placed a large bowl of steaming pasta, covered with grilled chicken and a tomato sauce thick with chunks of garlic and onion, and a plate of garlic bread on the table.
“Let’s eat.” Mary said.
VII
Ray fought to open the door, but his bloodied fingers kept slipping off the handle. His head swam in slow motion ringing as his hand fumbled useless to free himself. The door flew open, revealing a dark skinned man of middle age, with thick, greased hair pulled back into a pony tail. The man yanked Ray from the car and in a motion, threw him over a shoulder.
He carried Ray to a metallic black Chevy Nova and tossed him into the back seat. He jammed the car into gear and roared into traffic as sirens approached. He guided the car through traffic and merged onto I-15N, keeping his speed even with the cars around him. The city lights grew sparser as they neared the mountains and Ray could see the buildings of the strip fade in the rear window.
The man threw a bottle of Jamison over the seat, which Ray managed to get open after wiping his hands clean of blood. He placed the bottled to his lips and drank, the whiskey burning his throat. He swallowed the fire and drank again. The whiskey cleared his mind enough to concentrate on his surroundings. The city receded into the distance as they plunged into the desert, the lights lining the roadside becoming less frequent.
“Where are we going, Marcus?” Ray asked.
The dark skinned man didn’t respond or give indication he heard the question. He pushed the car faster and clicked on the stereo. The sounds of a piano concerto filled the car.
“Chopin?” Ray managed to laugh, which brought a wave of pain over him. He took another drink of whiskey.
Marcus pulled off the highway onto a dirt road and slowed the car to a near crawl as he navigated the rutted path into the desert. Ray saw an SUV in the distance with two men standing next to it. Marcus stopped the car less than ten feet from the Ford Explorer and nodded for Ray to get out, which he did, the whiskey making him less than steady on his feet.
Ray leaned against the car for support and stared at the men before him. Peter stepped forward, arms crossed, a grin upon his twisted face.
“We meet at last.”
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