once more stood before the phone. This time the computer enhanced the keypad in the green light that engulfed the scene and expanded the picture to where only the keypad and Reese's fingers were visible. When Reese was done, several of the metal numbers were glowing a light red. As the three watched, the computer-enhanced glow started to fade, but not before a series of six phone numbers popped into another window that had opened on the monitor's screen.
'The computer picked up the oil smudges from Reese's finger on the pads,' the sergeant said. 'The light in the club provided the difference in the sheen off the metal, some after they were just punched, leaving a different shine on the numeric pads from the oil. Thus the oil on the pads was not dried like the others, so they produced a different reflection in the club's lighting, and the computer deduced it had been these numbers just depressed.'
'But there are too many numbers for an actual phone number,' Everett stated.
'That was the easy part. Europa took the first set of one hundred and fourteen phone numbers from the measurements and cross-referenced them with the second set of six from the optical scan, and she boiled it down to two phone possibilities. Then she noted that some numbers may have been pushed twice, and maybe even three times. Thus you see too many numbers for actual private numbers. Then she boiled the numbers down to two by processing the remaining numbers as some were eliminated as not being actual, according to the national database of phone books, and now we have two, and they are both local. The first was Kindercare, a small preschool out on Flamingo Boulevard, in Vegas. The other is a strip club called the Ivory Coast Lounge. I think you know which one my bet would be on,' the sergeant said.
'Amazing,' Jack said, looking from the screen to the young sergeant. 'That's good work. Thank you, Sergeant.'
Everett just looked at the young enlisted man and smiled as the sergeant turned and left the computer center. He turned to look at Jack, but he was watching Alice as she started for the door herself.
Alice waited for the men to catch up in the long circular hallway.
'Okay, we need to know first his condition, then find out if Reese passed along anything about the Event,' Jack said.
Alice looked Jack over closely. 'We take it very seriously when our people come up missing. We take it extremely seriously when it's on the heels of what happened yesterday. I don't like the look of this, and neither does Niles.'
'Yes, ma'am.'
'I took the liberty of alerting Gate Two. If you would go see Gunny Campos, he'll have your identification and sidearms. Go get Reese and bring him back to us. And fast.'
THIRTEEN
It was close to ten in the morning when Collins and Everett hurriedly stepped from the elevator into the pawnshop. Jack looked around and thought how the world had changed for him since he'd stepped into this very shop yesterday. It seemed it had been months and not just a single revolution of the clock since he had been in this dingy and dusty store.
They were met as the doors of the elevator closed behind them. Campos was there with Staff Sergeant Mendenhall and two other men. All were dressed in civilian clothing and Mendenhall was smiling.
'What is it, Sergeant?' asked the major.
'After your arrival at the center, we were laying bets on what security personnel would be reassigned. I'm just glad to have a job this morning, sir.'
'The morning's still young,' Collins replied, letting his eyes linger for a moment on the staff sergeant. He turned and asked the older marine, 'You have something for us, Gunny?'
The old man nodded in affirmation and produced two large manila envelopes. He gave one each to Collins and Everett. They opened them, and inside were two forms of ID and a badge in a leather wallet and a holstered nine- millimeter Browning automatic with two extra clips of ammunition. Collins raised his eyebrows.
'Better to have too much than not enough,' Everett said, sliding the two magazines into his back pocket.
Collins did the same and clipped the holstered nine-millimeter into the waistband of his jeans under his Wind-breaker and toward the small of his back. Then he looked at the badge he held in his hand. It was a star inscribed with DEPUTY UNITED STATES MARSHAL. Collins slid the leather-encased shield into his waistband, allowing the badge to dangle there.
'What in the hell do we do if we just happen to bump into real marshals?' the major asked.
'We go to jail for impersonating a federal officer and pray that Niles can get our asses out,' the naval officer answered, grinning.
'Great. Well, who's coming?' Collins asked.
Mendenhall introduced the other two men as marine PFCs, O'Connell and Gianelli. PFC O'Connell had a decidedly Southern drawl, and there was no doubt at all Gianelli hailed from New York.
'Gunny here wants permission to come along with us. He doesn't really expect to be used in any real capacity, maybe watch the car. Mrs. Hamilton said it was totally up to you,' Mendenhall said in a lowered voice. 'Spec 5 Meyers up front will mind the store, if you concur, sir.'
Collins looked the old man over. He wasn't real comfortable with the idea, but the man was still a marine, thus had earned respect long ago. 'Getting some air with us today, Gunny Campos?'
'About goddamn time too. I'm damn tired of babysitting these boys and bickering with the tourists. I can still run rings around most of these men, and the day I let someone from the army beat me, I'll just...' He saw the major looking at him. 'I... uh... yes, sir, very ready to get out of here. I know the town and I know exactly where you need to go. Present company excluded on the army comment, Major.'
'Quit while you're ahead, Gunny. You're welcome to come along, but don't get used to it. You know the area here, so let's roll.'
'Yes, sir.'
Staff Sergeant Mendenhall drove while Everett rode shotgun with O'Connell in the middle. The other three, including Collins, rode in the back. In less than five minutes they were in the area of the old Strip that housed all the famous and older casinos.
'Gunny, see if they have a back door to this place and stake it out,' Collins said as he left the car. 'You stay with him, Gianelli.'
'Yes, sir.'
Collins watched them head toward the back of the building. Then he, Everett, Mendenhall, and O'Connell walked around to the front of the club. Once there they didn't hesitate. A bored-looking woman sitting behind an old desk didn't even glance up from her
The room was dark and much larger on the inside than it looked from the outside. Music was playing, but no one was onstage. A waitress with rather large and sagging breasts was leaning down and speaking with a man in a black suit who sat in a palm-covered booth. He looked up at the newcomers and slid out of the booth, ducking his head under the fake elephant tusks and palm fronds. He whispered something to the topless woman and then walked away, disappearing into the back of the club. The waitress watched him leave, then placed her tray down on the table and hurried away through a curtained doorway to the left. She glanced back at Collins and Everett as she pulled the drapes closed.
Through the strains of the Moody Blues singing 'Nights in White Satin,' a man with a swooping seventies Elvis haircut stepped through the same curtained doorway after a few minutes and up to the four men, eyeing them closely.
'Can I help you, gentlemen?' he asked loudly over the music, smiling with stained teeth exposed and moving
