“He’s staying in one of the penthouse suites.”
“OK, then. Let’s go see him…”
Wise, who’d been quietly eating his pancakes this whole time, put down his fork and cleared his throat. “Not so fast,” he said. “Before you go to the Venetian, we need to make a stop at Harrah’s.”
“What for?” asked True, looking annoyed.
“Love wants to meet her.”
“Who’s Love?” I said.
“I thought we agreed we weren’t going to have this sort of interference,” said True.
“I don’t know what you agreed to,” said Wise, “but my orders come from the man himself. Love isn’t happy with the way the Ozymandias op played out. Before we take this any further, he wants to be sure of her.”
“And he couldn’t have met with her yesterday, or the day before?”
“He’s got a full schedule. This is when he had time.”
“Who’s Love?” I repeated.
“The Trickster-in-Chief,” said True. “The leader of the Scary Clowns.” To Wise: “Very well. We’ll go see him.”
“Not ‘we.’ Love wants to talk to her in private. You’re welcome to wait in the casino, but she goes up to the Mudgett Suite alone.”
At that point, True got more pissed off than I’d ever seen him. He bitched at Wise about how totally unacceptable this was. Wise listened impassively, like he knew True had to complain for the sake of form, even though it wasn’t going to change anything.
A new waitress came to collect our plates. Once we’d settled the bill, Wise was in a hurry to get going, but when we got outside, I broke away from him and followed True to his car.
“What’s this Mudgett Suite?” I asked him. “And what did Wise mean about Love wanting to be sure of me? Am I going to have to do another one of those shibboleth tests?”
“I don’t know,” True said, still steaming. “As you may have gathered, I wasn’t consulted about this.”
“Well OK then, let’s just blow him off. Go straight to the Venetian.”
“No. That won’t work.”
“Jane!” Wise called. “Come on!”
“True…”
“No.” He shook his head firmly. “Go with him. I’ll meet you afterwards.”
I could see there was no point in arguing, so reluctantly I let him go. As I headed back to the SUV, I heard True get into his car, start the motor, and drive off. The sound of the engine was just beginning to fade with distance when the world changed color again.
I was far enough from the blast this time that I didn’t fall down, just stumbled. When I caught my balance and looked back, I saw True’s car rolling to a stop in the middle of the road, with all its windows gone and no one in the driver’s seat.
I ran for the SUV. Wise had the door open and was reaching for something. He came out holding a fire ax. Then he dropped it and collapsed.
“Wise?” I crouched down to check on him, then looked up, sensing another presence. But the parking lot was empty.
And then it wasn’t. Maybe five yards off to my left, the air seemed to shimmer, and this person just…materialized. It was Jane, the waitress. She’d swapped her work uniform for a pair of black jeans and a T-shirt silk-screened with a mandrill face, and she was holding an orange pistol.
I jumped up, raising my own gun to fire, but the air shimmered again, and suddenly she wasn’t five yards away, she was right in my face. She slapped my gun aside. She punched me, two quick jabs that dropped me helpless to my knees. A hand cupped my chin, and a plastic pistol muzzle pressed against my forehead.
“Welcome to Las Vegas, Jane,” she said. “Little brother sends his regards.”
She pulled the trigger.