Greg, Stefan, and Irene stepped off the hidden elevator and onto the crowded gambling floor.

"Split up. Find Terry. Meet back here," Greg said.

A voice behind them said, "That won't be necessary. I'll take you to her."

They turned to find Big C pointing a pistol their way. It was small and inconspicuous, but it was more weapons than they had, and it was at very close range. They went along with their host.

Unnoticed by all the busy, hopeful, deluded bettors, Big C herded the trio. He took them across the blinking, flashing, beeping, blaring casino floor and through stainless steel swinging doors into the casino kitchen.

There he took them between white-coated people, copper cookware, and silvery appliances, into a storage area. No one on the kitchen staff acknowledged four non-culinary people passing through.

In the vast storage area, the quartet passed several room-size cabinets and freezers. At the far end of the facility, Big C opened the last storage vault, swung wide the door, and directed them inside.

In the center of the toolshed-size vault, Gino pinned Terry in front of him with a vise-grip. Marco and Irving stepped forward from opposite corners to grasp Stefan and Irene and shove them toward Terry.

Big C kept his pistol trained on Greg. The boss man said, "Because you are such special guests, the hotel has decided to send you on our midnight cruise to our own private island in the Caribbean. We like to call it 'Emerald Isle.' You won't find it on any maps."

He looked to Irving and gave an order. "When the deposit is ready, take them up the freight elevator and out to the boat." He told the Duprees, "Bon voyage, all."

"AAAAAAaaaaaahhhhhh!" Greg leaped onto Big C at the same time Stefan, Irene, and Terry grappled with the three henchmen, knocking aside kettles, pots, lids, and colanders hanging from the vault shelves and ceiling.

Clang! Bam! Jangle! Bash! The walls vibrated and the inventory fell in all directions as eight people fought in the tiny space.

Big C was attempting to make his way to the vault door as he struggled against Greg. The boss man whacked Greg's forehead with the pistol and shoved Greg into the three pairs tangling in the center of the room.

Ciano escaped and slammed the vault door on the others. Greg shook off the semi-stupor from Big C's pistol blow, saw that the boss had escaped, and tore into Marco.

As Greg tossed Stefan aside and took on the Marco-vulture alone, he shouted to Stefan, "Get the women out of here!"

Stefan yanked Irene off of Irving's back and pulled Terry's hands out of Gino's hair just as Greg threw Marco on top of Irving and Gino.

Greg put himself between the three executives and the doorway while Stefan and the two women ducked out and closed the door again. Terry hesitated and nearly turned back to help Greg, but she thought better of it.

"We've got to find the car and call for back-up!" she said.

"I wouldn't mind having a very large gun right now, either," said Irene.

Stefan advised, "Let's find that freight elevator."

Inside the storage vault, Greg was outnumbered and taking a beating. Fortunately, the three henchmen did not shoot him – perhaps out of reluctance to make such noise, or perhaps they feared ricocheting bullets, but more likely because they enjoyed using their fists.

Greg used every trick he could devise to stay conscious long enough to occupy all three of Ciano's muscle boys while Stefan, Irene, and Terry got away.

At the freight elevator, Stefan, Irene, and Terry rushed inside, and Stefan began pounding the buttons.

Through the elevator doors, Terry could see into the huge kitchen, where Big C was picking up a meat cleaver from one of the butcher blocks. With murderous intent, the man stalked toward the elevator.

The elevator doors were closing slowly, so slowly. Terry's eyes went wide with fear. Big C began walking faster, hurrying to close the distance between the three cops and his deadly blade.

The doors crept closer and closer together. Ciano apparently grew impatient. He threw the meat cleaver at the trio inside the elevator.

Terry watched through the gap between the doors. The cleaver rushed directly at her face, cartwheeling over and over in the air.

Thunk!

Terry jerked, but she was not dead. The elevator doors had closed, and the lift was moving.

When Big C saw his cleaver stuck deep into the outside of the elevator door, he pounded the nearest steel table in frustration and rage.

The three henchmen joined him there, dragging Greg with them. They dumped Greg on the floor.

Greg was able to turn his head and see the closed elevator doors. He almost smiled, but whomp! A solid fist from nowhere turned everything black.

Big C looked down at the unconscious Greg. He looked at Gino, Marco, and Irving – all of them battered, ragged, bruised, and bleeding.

"The Dupree family, huh? How can you be so stupid! Don't you know a cop when you smell one?

"They're probably not stupid enough to go back to their rooms, but check 'em anyway. And check my wife's rooms. She knows this guy.

"And don't let 'em get to their car! Tell the techs to block all outgoing calls from the hotel phones until we find these jokers! ... Move!"

The three vultures left in a hurry. Big C turned to face a white-faced, wide-eyed, slack-jawed kitchen staff.

"Show's over! Get back to work! ... You! Get me something to tie this guy up with." Ciano kicked Greg's limp form for emphasis.

The kitchen staff dispersed quickly.

At the hotel's front entrance portico, Marco rushed out the lobby doors, pistol in hand. He stopped the doorman and valet standing there and gestured excitedly to them as he asked them questions.

They shook their heads; they had seen nobody.

From somewhere in the dark parking acres, an engine roared. Gravel spattered against metal.

Marco, the doorman, and the valet turned and watched a massive black Lincoln screech out of the hotel driveway.

Marco shouted. He fired shots.

The Lincoln got clean away.

Marco threw up his hands and stomped back toward the building.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:  Okay, we have good news and bad news. Good: some of the undercover cops have made it out of the Emerald C's Resort alive. Yay. Bad: Greg is booked on a one-way trip to the Caribbean Ocean. It will take way too long for him to grow gills for breathing underwater, so we can only hope someone will be along to rescue him. But who?  We'll find out in the next installment of Emerald's Secret. 

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