A Chip and a Chair (Seven of Spades, #5)(42)
Dominic hung back but kept a careful eye on Levi. He knew-he didn’t fear, he knew-that if he let his focus waver for one minute, he’d slip out of this building and go straight to the closest place he could gamble, even if it was the video slots at a grocery store.
Tisdale gave them a terse, rapid-fire update. The county manager had declared a local state of emergency. Local law enforcement and public safety agencies had contained the scene at the Mirage, while additional teams from the FBI and LVMPD were combing other buildings on the Strip for any additional explosive devices. Area hospitals were preparing for the influx of patients, and disaster relief organizations had been mobilized. The media was being delicately handled by cooperation between the various agencies’ public information officers.
“You said the county manager declared the emergency first?” Levi asked. “What about the mayor? The city manager?”
Denise lifted her head from the tablet she’d been working on. “Both shot. Reports are still coming in, but we know the mayor is critically injured, the city manager is dead, and nobody can locate the city’s emergency manager. That’s only scratching the surface.”
“So the shootings reported right after the explosion-they all targeted public officials?”
“We don’t have all the facts yet, but it seems like it. Almost a dozen so far, attacked simultaneously in one coordinated wave-at home, out at dinner, even on the road.”
Meaning the shooters had known the victims’ schedules down to the minute and had unimpeded access to them. The LMVPD wasn’t the only organization with a mole problem.
“So I was right.” Levi picked fluffy bits of cotton off one of his bandages as he spoke. “The explosion was a distraction, a way to overwhelm our emergency resources so we couldn’t handle everything at once. Destabilizing the local government makes responding even more difficult.”
“Do you think that’s why Utopia came after you, too?” Dominic asked. “Besides their personal grudge against you, you’re a public figure now.”
“Maybe. I’m pretty sure they were trying to kidnap me, though, not kill me, which I can’t explain.”
“We’re doing everything we can to contain the situation,” said Bowen. “We’ve activated our mutual aid agreements with neighboring jurisdictions for more personnel, and we’re going to drag in everyone in the Valley who has even the slightest connection to Utopia.”
Dominic zoned out during the ensuing discussion of law enforcement tactics, staring at the wall as his gambling fantasies surged to the forefront and sucked him deeper and deeper. There was no way he could handle a strategy-based game like poker in this condition, but slots or roulette could do the trick. The spinning of a roulette wheel could be so hypnotic, almost soothing . . .
“Dominic!” Martine said, with an impatient edge that suggested this wasn’t her first attempt at getting his attention.
“What? Yeah. What?” He shook himself.
She inclined her head toward Levi, who’d apparently gotten into an argument with Bowen while Dominic had been distracted.
“But I want to help. You need all hands on deck right now.” Levi’s arms were crossed over his chest, his eyebrows knitted together.
“You’ve already done more than enough for one day,” Bowen said. “You’ve been through a hellish experience, and you’re injured. Get a good night’s rest, have a doctor check you out, and then you can return to work. I’ll speak to Captain Birndorf about supplying a security detail in case Utopia tries their luck with you again.”
“But-”
“This is not a debate, Detective.”
The intercom in the middle of the table buzzed. “Agent Tisdale?” said a woman’s voice. “I just received a video you need to see. I’ll put it up on the screen in there.”
Everyone in the room turned to the large TV mounted on the wall.
“My contact at KTNV forwarded me an email that was sent to every major news network in Nevada,” the woman on the intercom said. “It contained a link to this video on some random website.”
The video started. On the screen stood three white men wearing plastic Reagan masks, in front of a massive American flag backdrop.
“We are Utopia,” said the center man. “We speak for the true Americans, the ones who fight to preserve this once-great nation as it collapses into depravity. No longer will our voices be silenced.”
“When has a white man ever been silenced?” Martine muttered.
“We claim credit for today’s explosion at the Mirage, as well as the attacks on a dozen corrupt public officials. We are doing God’s work. And this is only the beginning.”
Tension rippled through the briefing room.
“Las Vegas stands as a symbol of everything that is wrong with America,” the man continued. “It is a modern-day Sodom and Gomorrah: a cesspool of debauchery, Godlessness, race-mixing, and sodomy. And yet instead of repenting, its people take pride in the name ‘Sin City’.”
Dominic swallowed against the gorge rising in the back of his throat. The people around him were hardly breathing.
The man in the video moved closer to the camera, his voice thrumming with fanatical zeal. “Like Sodom and Gomorrah, Las Vegas must be destroyed. This is the will of God. We will rain down burning sulfur until this city is cleansed of sin. We cannot be stopped. We cannot be turned aside.” He lowered his voice, though his tone only grew more passionate. “And if the demon known as the Seven of Spades seeks to challenge us? We’re ready for you.”