The uniformed doorman greeted him with a smile beneath his thick, graying mustache and Sean nodded a thank you as he passed by. The familiar scent that filled The Venetian wafted out of the door and embraced him upon entry. He couldn’t place the scent precisely, but it seemed like a mélange of jasmine, vanilla, and spice.
Inside the hotel lobby, he was greeted by a dismantling array for the senses. A circular room opened up to a dramatic domed ceiling, in the center of which was a round skylight. Elaborate frescoes of angels, gods, and saints surrounded the clear opening. Columns of white marble accented the walls and corners, crowned with golden footings and crests. On a cream-colored and brown marble floor in the center of the room, stood a golden spherical fountain. The shiny, metal strips that made up the globe were braced by angelic, armless creatures like a figurehead on the front of an old ship.
He turned left and headed down a vaulted hallway of similar appearance that led to the casino and the elevators just beyond. High above him other frescoes of various Italian origins both mythical and religious adorned the arched ceiling. He’d marveled at the artwork. The detail of each relief and the colors that were incorporated made the scenery inside the building nothing short of spectacular.
The day before he had taken a stroll around the mall area within the complex that connected to The Palazzo. He was amazed at the job the builders had done with the ornate canals that mimicked the ones in Venice, complete with gondolas and singing gondoliers. The layout was designed to make one feel like they were actually in Venice right down to the smaller version of San Marco Square.
Shops lined the walkways surrounding the canals, providing any visitor with a breathtaking array of old-world style and modern convenience. There was even an artificial partly cloudy sky painted on the ceiling to make it feel like patrons were outdoors.
How much money went into this place? He couldn’t help but wonder as he entered the elevator to the tune of Phantom of the Opera. The musical’s Las Vegas home happened to be The Venetian at that time. He’d heard good things about the show and was considering taking it in at some point.
Sean looked both ways as he exited on the tenth floor. Old habits died hard. Even though he’d not been a government Agent for a few years now, some things were ingrained in him.
The last few months he’d found himself relaxing a little more, getting back to “normal” life. That is, until a few weeks ago. The episode with Tommy’s kidnapping had brought everything back. He thought about the gun hidden in his room. Never could be too careful, especially considering recent events.
The hallway opened into a circular roundabout that led to rooms, suites, and a bridge to the Venezia Tower where an additional pool and more restaurants were located. Swimming pools and restaurants were something that The Venetian certainly didn’t lack. He recalled thinking the hotel must have had more eateries than a moderately sized city and the pools were a nice luxury to escape the heat; in the summer they were a necessity.
As he neared the door he pulled his card key out then slid it into the reader. The suite was one of the nicer rooms he’d stayed in during his travels. And he’d travelled a lot. Its view overlooked the main two pools below but beyond the city, dark brown mountains protruded into the night sky. Tonight though, the room was completely dark. Housekeeping must have closed the drapes and automated roman blinds.
After throwing his key and wallet on a dresser, he flicked on a light. The dark form in the corner of the room near the window caught the peripheral of his eye. So did the shape of the gun.
Chapter 2
Alexander Lindsey’s old eyes stared out the luxury helicopter’s window at the dark, jagged mountains below. He’d always loved flying. Helicopters had been of a particular interest, though flight in general had always been fascinating to him. The quick rise and fall, the many different directions one could take, and sheer speed were all very exhilarating. It had never made him nervous like some unfortunate souls. Of course, his ancestors seemed to have always been a little more reckless than others. They’d had to be careful in so many other aspects of their lives that thrill seeking had become a way to balance things out.
The moonlit mountains below sped by as the Agusta A-109 cruised smoothly through the evening air; it’s silver exterior reflecting bending images of earth’s solitary satellite.
He loved the turbine-powered conveyance. It was far more convenient than a private jet-smaller, more maneuverable, and easy to hide if needed. He had used the elegant vehicle for a wide variety of purposes, some of which were more sinister than others.
The desert had been a place of solace for a long time for his family. After being tormented back east and in the mid-west during the 1800s, they’d managed to find a sanctuary in the American Southwest.
Safety. Security. Things that were taken for granted now that he had become extremely wealthy and powerful. And the vermin across from him could have wrecked everything.
“I did everything you every told me to do, Alex!” His victim begged from the other side of the cabin, interrupting his thoughts.
The squat, chubby man struggled with no avail against his bonds, hands tied behind his back with rope. Heavy chains encircled his body and legs. Veins were raised just beneath the skin of his temples, his face red from straining. A few droplets of perspiration dripped down his fleshy forehead.
Two other men, Lindsey’s personal bodyguards, were the only other passengers in the cabin.
“You can’t do this! You need me!”
The desperate pleas were unfounded and irrational. There were plenty of other options available. After all, Alexander Lindsey had operatives in nearly every branch of the government. Getting a new spy would not be a problem.
Lindsey gazed unsympathetically at the plump man. For the last two years he had proved useful. An inside guy at the Justice Department was a nice thing to have. He’d pretty much known whenever he was being watched and been able to deftly sidestep many potential problems. However, Gary wasn’t the only one working for the Order and his prisoner’s usefulness, it seemed, had run its course.
“What exactly did you tell them, Gary?” Lindsey asked, peering into the man’s soul. “And stop wriggling around. You should face your end like a man not a squirming little baby.”
Gary Holstrum looked down at the gray seat for a moment then back up. “I only told them a few things. I swear. It was stuff that isn’t even important. It wouldn’t implicate you in anything. I had to give ‘em something!”
“It’s important to me, Gary. What you have done has put everything I’ve worked for at great risk.”
“No,” he shook his head. “I would never do anything that would put you in danger, Alex. I’ve worked for you for two years now. You know me.”
Lindsey sat silently for a moment, as if contemplating the man’s words. He had served him well. But too much was at stake now.
Events of the prior weeks had been most productive. The first golden chamber had been found with the accompanying clue. Now, Tommy Schultz was working with a professor at Georgia Tech to unravel the location of the second chamber. Nearly everything had gone according to plan, except for a few little wrinkles. However, those problems would be dealt with soon enough.
The older man cast a quick glance at one of his bodyguards and gave a nod. Acknowledging the unspoken order, the huge man stepped over to the door nearest the prisoner and pulled up the latch that slid the mechanism open. Dry desert air rushed into the cabin along with a significant increase in noise. A moment later, the helicopter crested a small ridge and suddenly, a vast body of dark liquid spread out below them. Lake Mead.