Part 1 - The War Council
I stood up, my ears still ringing. The room was in shambles. Ivanov’s two Russian goons were torn to pieces. Sandra was on all fours under the desk, “Damn her ass looks good,’ I thought. She seemed to be okay. I looked for Ivanov and found him lying on the floor, his face covered in blood. I checked his pulse. He was alive. I slapped his face and called out to him, unable to hear my own voice over the damned ringing. He didn’t wake up.
Someone pulled me away from Ivanov, some more of his men had come in with guns drawn. They were rushing around the room like chickens with their heads cut off. I stumbled through the madness and found the wet bar. I opened the bourbon and took a long swig. My hearing was starting to come back, I could hear the others yelling, but it sounded like it was coming from another room.
I took three deep breaths, then I took another swig. And then I saw the second rocket. I didn’t even bother to duck. Luckily, it hit a little further east. It was still loud as hell. I saw two russian guys run in and drag Ivanov out of the room. I grabbed Sandra out from under the table and we followed. We all ended up in the garage and climbed into an SUV. Then we raced to safety.
As we drove out of the garage, I was handed an assault rifle & told to watch our backs.
No one followed us. We drove to what seemed to be an empty office building, but inside there was a small hospital staff. They took Ivanov and left me and Sandra alone. I set the rifle down and realized that I had taken the bottle of bourbon with me. Thank god for foresight. Sandra was texting on her phone or something. I couldn’t wait any longer. I had to ask, “Sandra, who do you work for?”
She looked confused, “What?”
“For whom do you work?”
She ignored me and went back to her phone. Something inside of me wanted to grab her and slap her for it. I wanted to shake her until she gave up everything she knew. I reached over and started pressing buttons on her phone. She collapsed into tears. Fucking women.
“There there, honey,” I consoled her. “At least you still got that ass.” That was all I had. I wish you could just talk to women like they were normal people. As Sandra sat there crying, I took the opportunity to lift her wallet from her purse. I planned to take it into the bathroom later and quietly riffle through it, but I couldn’t resist a peek.
“The CIA!” I exploded.
Sandra looked at me then at her purse. “You stole my wallet? While I was over here crying my eyes out?” She yelled. “For a moment, I almost thought you were human.”
“You’re one to talk lady, you’re a goddamn CIA sex-operative.” I retorted. “And why are you all worked up anyway? What kind of CIA agent gets all cry-faced after a few explosions?”
“Like you said, I’m a sex-operative,” she said with disgust, “this isn’t the kind of action I normally see.”
I felt kind of bad for attacking her while she was vulnerable. She was only a woman after all, and she had a fantastic ass. I took a swig of bourbon and offered the bottle to Sandra as a peace offering. She looked at me skeptically for a moment before grabbing the bottle and taking a drink.
“So, why is the CIA tangled up in a Vegas crime war?” I asked.
She took a few deep breaths before finally letting out with it: "The CIA just wants a piece."
"Of what, Vegas?"
She nodded, "We can't have the Chinese or the Russians making moves like this. We tried approaching the Italians in the 70's. That was no good. We need white in charge. Making the rules and enforcing them."
“But why, what’s any of this have to do with national security?” I asked.
“Vegas is one of the largest recreational drug markets in the world,” she explained. “We need to control where those drugs come from. Subtle changes in international drug trafficking could result in certain areas around the world destabilizing. And whenever an area get unstable, they blame the USA, and turn into a terrorist threat.”
It all made sense, "That's why you were so interested in Wayne Newton. You wanted him as your pawn. I'm guessing he didn't want to play ball."
"We can't have a star either. Newton is too high-profile and he has secrets even we can't discover. That was why we came to you."
"Uh huh. So when he goes looking for revenge the CIA won't be in his sights. You came to me for action lady, not intel. You gave me fucking grenades!"
"Like I said, Mr Monroe, we need white in charge. That's why we came to you. We left you with a large sum of money and armed security. We had to be sure you wouldn't piss it all away in a few days."
"Aww... I totally did," I sighed.
"Listen, I'll tell you right now that if you get your shit together, I can station twenty men here and at your disposal, just to start. We just need to know that you are willing and able to do what we need you to do."
"No," I said very quickly. I probably should have thought it over for a little longer, but I just know I'd get assassinated. She was offering me the keys to the city, and along with them, a shiny red target to hang on my ass. The truth is, they were probably only interested in me because they figured I'd be easy to control. Part of me wanted to prove them wrong, but I was better off with Ivanov in charge, I had a good relationship with the ugly Russian. But as long as Kong was blowing shit up, the CIA were gonna be sticking their noses in things.
“If you accept our offer,” Sandra unbuttoned the top button of her shirt as she spoke, “I could be made a permanent member of your staff.” Sandra was the finest piece of woman I’d ever stuck my dick in. The offer just got a whole lot sweeter, but I still couldn’t do it. I can barely balance my checkbook, I couldn’t run Vegas.
I needed to think, and I do my best thinking when there aren’t any women around, so I decided to hit the streets, alone. There’s only one place in Nevada to buy heavy weaponry… from a small Armenian man named Jalal Abdulian. I wanted to have a little chat with Jalal about those RPGs I’d been dodging all morning. And luckily, I knew just how to find the little bastard.
To Be Continued...
Part 3 - The Armenian DickHead
Part 4 - The New Boss
No comments:
Post a Comment