said, swinging it at Big Julie’s head and connecting solidly. Stunned by the unexpected blow, Big Julie swayed on his feet. Johnny Red took advantage of the moment and dumped Big Julie unceremoniously into the laundry cart.
“Nice work,” Johnny Red said to Alexei, dusting off his hands. “Who knew we’d find a blackjack in here? Except it’s—you know. Pink.” He looked at it more carefully. “And not a blackjack. It’s—a symbol of a corrupt capitalist regime. Could be useful, though. Bring it.” He turned to the maid, who, tied and gagged, was cowering in the corner.
“Don’t you worry none,” Johnny Red said, not unkindly, to her as he released her from her bonds. “We’re all gonna go now, out the door and downstairs through the casino to the loading dock. You’re gonna push the laundry cart. You do what we say, you forget our faces, nobody’s gonna get hurt. But you gotta shut up. You make any noise, you’re gonna do laundry for the angels. You capiche?”
The maid bobbed her head, looking terrified.
“You’ll be fine if you don’t scream no more,” he reiterated, not reassured by her frantic nodding. “We just gotta get through the casino, and you gotta have a short memory. That’s it. Okay, let’s roll.”
Johnny Red arranged the Egyptian cotton bath sheet, now slightly the worse for wear, over the unconscious Big Julie. Then Yakov, Markov, and Igor pushed the laundry cart out of the apartment and over to the elevator and punched the call button. Alexei, holding the pink dildo in one hand and the maid’s elbow in the other, carefully locked and closed the door after them.
The elevator car arrived, the doors opened, and the triplets pushed the laundry cart into the empty carriage.
“Okay, Comrade, take over.” Johnny Red pushed the maid behind the laundry cart. She took hold of it gingerly.
Johnny Red sighed. “Just act normal,” he told her. “Just go like you always go.”
They descended a few floors in silence.
“I don’t ride the guest elevators,” the maid ventured. “Ever. Always the service elevator. Otherwise, we are fired.”
Johnny Red rolled his eyes. Obviously there was more to being a proletariat than he’d realized.
“You see your boss, you tell him that you are bringing us more towels,” he said. “The guest is always right.”
“We don’t get the towels from this elevator,” the maid said. “Or put them in this kind of cart.”
Johnny Red hissed.
“Did I not just tell you the guest is always right?” he asked. “I am a guest. I am right. If anybody asks, you are getting us towels. And then shut up. Do you understand?”
“Si,” the maid said. “Only—”
“And now shut up!”
The car opened on the eighth floor, where a large group of happy vacationers was waiting to go down. Johnny Red moved to the middle of the opening, where he reached out his arms, resting his hands on either side of the doors, blocking the entrance.
“This one is full,” he said. “Take the next one.”
The happy vacationers took one look at Johnny Red standing in the way, Alexei holding the pink leather dildo, the triplets, and the terrified maid with the laundry cart, and they backed off. Just then Big Julie groaned and stretched, recovering consciousness, which caused the laundry cart to twitch. The vacationers gasped.
“Alexei,” Johnny Red said.
Alexei stepped forward and swung the pink dildo into the cart at Big Julie’s head. Big Julie went quiet.
The elevator doors closed.
Johnny Red turned to the maid. “See? Not hard at all.”
“Si,” she said, very pale.
At the ground floor, the Russians got off first, and Johnny Red courteously held the doors open while the maid struggled to get the cart off the elevator. The flimsy wheels got trapped in the track for the door, and finally Johnny Red reached in, grabbed the cart, and yanked it out.
“Come on,” he said, leading the way down the shopping atrium.
“Senor!” the maid said, momentarily abandoning the cart and trotting after him. “It is forbidden! The cameras! We will be stopped! I will lose my job and be sent back to Mexico! My children. Please, Senor.”
Of that plea, Johnny Red had heard only one—the most important—word.
“Cameras?” he asked.
She pointed to the chandelier. To the light sconce on the wall. To the molding above the doorway.
“Si,” she said. “Everywhere.”
Damn. He should have remembered that about these big, corporate casinos. The guest bedrooms weren’t bugged and miked and watched 24/7, but the hallways, elevators, restaurants, and gaming rooms were. You couldn’t pick a booger around here without every slick