Killing Hope (Gabe Quinn Thriller) (70 page)

I looked up from staring stupidly at the cell phone. Blinked at Eleanor. ‘He’s got Jamie.’ My words sounded puny, like a I was a foot tall and at the end of a long tunnel.

‘Where?’

‘Here, in Vegas. At the Stratosphere Tower. Don’t ask me how. I don’t know. Last time I heard she was in New York. This morning. And now …’

‘What does he want you to do?’

‘I’ve got thirty minutes to get there. Otherwise he’ll kill her. ‘I saw the color drain from Eleanor’s face. Knew that it mirrored my own.

‘Call Sonny.’

‘He said no cops.’

‘Call Sonny.’

‘He said he’ll kill her if he so much as saw a patrol car approaching.’

Eleanor walked over and slapped me hard across the cheek. I recoiled from the sting.

‘Call Sonny.’ She said.

I came out of my delirium and called Sonny.

‘But you’re under house arrest.’ Sonny said as I quickly outlined the situation.

‘Let me worry about that. Can you help me?’

‘Without a second’s thought, Gabe. Let me scramble a SWAT team to smoke him out. I’ve seen things like this get messy real quick. They can be on the top of him before he knows what’s hit.’

‘No. No SWAT. Sonny, I appreciate what you’re saying, but Jamie’s life is on the line here. We can’t afford to take any chances. Too many innocent lives have been lost already.’

‘And if this guy is as smart as he claims he is, we’ll need everything in our arsenal to get her out of there alive. Besides, there’s only three ways down from that tower: two sets of double elevators and the emergency stairwell. He’s a sitting duck. This is our chance.’

‘And Jamie’s safety is paramount. Which means no snipers, Sonny. No tear gas. And especially none of Wong’s henchmen spoiling the show. In fact,
don’t tell
anyone in the FBI
. Here’s what we’ll do …’

198

^{___________________________}

‘You will come to the internal observation deck of the Stratosphere Tower. You have thirty minutes. No more. No less. Thirty minutes. I’m allowing for rush-hour traffic; so try not to be late. Come alone. No shadows. No snipers on rooftops. No undercover cops dressed up as bellhops. Alone. If I get one sniff of any back up, Jamie will die. If you fail to get here in time, Jamie will die. If you try any funny business whatsoever, Jamie will die. You have thirty minutes.’

I waited until Eleanor had opened the guest room door and distracted the Deputy before making my move. I used the key that Bill had left to access his adjoining suite. Then ran across the darkened room to the door. Quietly pulled it open. I could hear Eleanor flirting noisily with the Deputy down the hall. I counted to three. Then leapt across the corridor and slipped through the stairwell door.

The Undertaker
had insisted I come alone. I was acutely aware – even paranoid – that he was watching my every move and had been all along. My mortal fear was that if we came down heavy he’d snuff out Jamie’s life in a heartbeat. I couldn’t risk that happening. But I wasn’t his puppet either.

This was Vegas; gambling was expected.

I snuck out through the hotel kitchen and waved down a passing cab. Flashed the driver my badge. He hit the gas and we elbowed our way through rush-hour traffic, heading downtown, with dusk rapidly descending

Seven minutes had passed. So far so good.

199

^{___________________________}

Streams of red-and-white lights crept along the city’s arteries like illuminated blood cells. Mixing at intersections. Pulsing through traffic lights. Ferrying precious life through the heart of the night-washed city.

From his lofty vantage point high within the
Stratosphere Tower
, the killer known as
The Undertaker
picked out patterns in the strings of faery lights. Fortifying his resolve. Ignoring the incessant voice in his head pleading for chemical consolation. He had to do this final showdown raw. Uninhibited. No stimulants or suppressants to alter this experience.

He wanted to
feel
this. He wanted to
live
this.

Carefully, he aimed Officer Garcia’s firearm at one corner of the big window pane and squeezed the trigger. The weapon kicked in his hand. Thunder boomed around the empty observation deck. The bullet left a feathered hole in the toughened glass. Another expertly-placed shot had the entire pane exploding outwards with a resounding crash. Sending lethal shards raining down on the streets below.

200

^{___________________________}

I was fired up. But I had to keep the flames under control. No good burning myself out before I got there. I could see the illuminated Tower looming bigger and bigger through the windshield as we headed north along The Strip. It looked like a giant black rosebud atop a sleek cream-colored stem, standing proud against the deepening twilight.

I was conscious of the passing seconds.

‘Faster.’ I urged the driver.

He flung the cab around like it was bull at a rodeo. Darted in and out of traffic. Leaving the sounds of angry horns behind.

There was a growing crowd of people on the sidewalk, I saw as we drew nearer. All staring up at the sky-scraping
Stratosphere Tower
.

I gave the driver a fifty and leapt out. Glanced skywards to the distant smoked-glass observation decks rising a thousand feet above the city.

‘Can you see him?’; ‘He’s got a gun.’; ‘Has anybody called the cops?’; ‘Did anyone else hear the shots?’; ‘Oh my God, is he a terrorist?’

I fought my way through the massing throng.

Word had filtered through to downstairs that there was a madman on the rampage and terror had swept through the hotel like wildfire. People were pouring out through every exit, fleeing for their lives. It was pandemonium. Panic stations. Gamblers clutching their winnings to their chests like their lives depended on it.

This was bad.

No longer just my personal problem.

I held my police shield aloft and ordered people to clear the way. It was like going against a stampede.

No rational person could seriously expect a zero police presence with all this commotion going on. But then again I wasn’t dealing with a rational person. Even with Sonny putting a stop on all law enforcement and EMS services coming within a block radius of the Tower, it was hard to see the invisible cordon holding. I heard at least a dozen terrified tourists dialing 911 as I pushed my way into the foyer. It was going to be a close call all round.

I had to make the killer’s deadline. Or Jamie died.

I scanned the casino floor. Saw signs for the Tower elevators. Sprinted up a flight of stairs. Worked my way through a shopping mall. Past storekeepers rolling down shutters. The news of a gunman stalking the property was bad for business.

I ran into a flustered security guard waving everybody out.

‘You can’t go this way!’ He shouted in my face, trying to manhandle me.

I showed him the shield.

He stepped aside.

‘He’s got a gun.’ He called as I ran on.

‘So do I.’

201

^{___________________________}

A pair of red-jacketed elevator operators were standing in the deserted elevator area. Looking like they’d jump out of their skins if so much as a fly flew past unexpectedly. One was a ginger-haired wisp of a kid. The other a portly ringmaster type with a grey goatee. When they saw me hurtling their way, their pasty faces visibly flushed with relief.

‘Told you the cavalry wouldn’t be long.’ I heard the older of the two mutter. ‘The name’s Ted Quayle,’ he said, sticking out a hand. ‘Head of Tower Operations. This is Kevin Lacy, my assistant.’

‘Elevator Tour Guide Extraordinaire.’ The kid announced with a lisp.

‘Detective Quinn.’ I said. ‘I need to get up there ASAP.’

‘I’m afraid that’s out of the question.’ Ted said. ‘Your guy’s locked them down at the hundred-eighth floor.’

‘That’s the internal observation level.’ The kid added.

‘Any way we can get them down?’

‘Not from here.’

‘This the only way up?’

‘We have stairs.’ Ted said. ‘But it would take a top athlete about thirty minutes to get to the top.’

Too long. Jamie would be dead by then. Probably me, too.

‘What’s with those doors?’

There was an identical set of brushed silver doors directly above us, set back on a narrow gantry. They looked like something out of the
Wizard of Oz
.

‘They’re double elevators.’ Ted explained. ‘One rides piggyback on top of the other. We can transport twice as many passengers that way.’

‘To different floors.’ The kid added.

I glanced at my watch: two minutes to deadline. I felt a pang of urgency rising in my belly.

‘How many people are up there right now?’

Ted made a face. ‘Say no more than two or three. Tops. Kevin was in the Pod when your guy started ordering everybody down.’

‘That’s right. He cleared the flaming decks. Then drew the elevators back up. I was with the last group to make it out alive.’

I pulled a face.

‘I swear, if he’s damaged my elevators, I’ll kill him.’

Ted gave the kid a shake of his head, ‘No you won’t, Kevin.’

‘Yes I will, Ted. Here comes your girlfriend, Quinn.’

I turned. Saw Sonny sprinting towards us.

‘Hello, Sonny.’

‘Hello yourself. Sorry I’m late; had to come through all the darned kitchens. Pots and pans all over the place. What have I missed? Is he still up there?’

Kevin said: ‘As far as we know, Sonny.’