I shrugged it off, though. Yeah, okay, I was ten inches tall. So what? It really wasn't all that bad. And this time, I actually believed that, for the first time ever.Of course, before doing roulette I had to get restored, because I needed to go get those miserable thigh-high boots. They wouldn't have fit me at my two-foot size, after all. Hell, they were as tall as I was!
Beth met me while I was changing and told me which table to report to. She also handed me a pair of gel insoles, since I'd managed to forget to buy some for myself. "I feel bad enough about making you work without any advance notice," she told me. "Just make sure I get these back. Sometimes I have to work the regular tables, too, you know."
I thanked her profusely, since me toes were already hurting just putting the boots on. However, with the squishy gel down in there, it felt a lot less painful than the last time.
I took my regular shoes and socks with me to the miniaturizer, since I wanted to be ready to ditch the boots the instant my shift was over. Unfortunately, on my way into the machine, one of the shoes hit the side and bounced away. The operator didn't see this and activated the process before I could turn around, so by the time I could step out, I was already shrinking.
This gave me an excellent view of my own shoe growing larger and larger in front of me. I dragged it over to the machine and shoved it inside as I shrank. The machine's operator waited for the power to recycle, so I was treated to a nice view of my own shoe looking six times bigger than normal. It's that sort of thing that kept reminding me just how tiny I really was.
I shrugged it off, though. Yeah, okay, I was ten inches tall. So what? It really wasn't all that bad. And this time, I actually believed that, for the first time ever.
I grinned at myself. So, it WAS possible to get used to this after all!
I picked up my shoe once it had shrunk all the way, and carried it off with me towards my station. I was almost skipping with joy. I no longer feared being so small! It was as if a great weight had been lifted from my shoulders.
If only I'd known what was going to happen later on! But I get ahead of myself.
The shift started out normally enough. I switched off with the girl working in my place, who didn't say much to me except a brief hello/goodbye as she exited. Then I painted on the smile and started doing my happy bimbo act. For some reason, I seemed to be good at that, which I suppose I should have found insulting, but strangely, it didn't bother me all that much.
Actually, in between spins of the wheel I occupied myself thinking about what I was going to say to Mark tonight. I knew I was going to confront him about Heather, but I just didn't know exactly how to go about it. Would it be better just to throw it in his face, or just drop it into casual conversation? Or better yet, maybe I'd trick him. I'll bet if I got him talking about his meeting at the casino with Heather, and then said something like, "And did you enjoy the trip to the supermarket?" I was sure he'd just blurt out an answer without thinking about it.
Yeah, that's how I'd do it, I thought. Then I'd let him twist in the wind for a bit, and wonder just how I'd figured it out. Of course, I'd have to tell him Heather didn't know yet, but I'd make sure he told her the very next day...or I'd tell her for him!
Yep, those were the kind of thoughts that were distracting me when disaster struck.
Now, over the course of years of working at the FBI, and as a cop, I've learned to observe and notice things that most people wouldn't even register. I've likened it to a kind of imprinting on the subconscious that I can go back and look at later, after the main event happens. This has proven invaluable in locating clues a lot of other people miss. Something very much like this happened right now.
After the event occurred, I looked back at what had been going on in the moments right beforehand. There were indeed warning signs, and if I hadn't been so occupied thinking about what I was going to do to Mark, I might even have seen them for what they were. Maybe not, but at least I'd have had a better shot.
The first clue was the man watching me. True, most of the gamblers liked to look at the tiny roulette doll in her cute little outfit, but they didn't stare at me with quite the expression this guy had. It was more than just appreciation or lust. It was something like infatuation.
The main piece of evidence, though, was the coat he was wearing. This is Las Vegas, and it was springtime; there was no reason for a long, heavy coat like he had on. Hell, even a rookie cop can catch on to something like that. But I was too preoccupied to notice.
Well, in my own defense, even if I had been thinking about it, it wouldn't have done much good.
It was the man's turn to bet. He leaned down close to look at me, and then smiled in a big, satisfied way. Later, I thought it was sort of like recognition, or that he'd found something he was looking for. Perhaps a better description would be that he just came to a decision. I didn't realize just what that was all about at the time, of course, being the oblivious idiot that I was.
He asked me to give the roulette ball a kick, so I did, twittering in that inane way that everyone seemed to like. This guy seemed to appreciate it, too. I pretended to be happy and looked away, following the ball like everyone else, so I didn't immediately notice the motion as he took something out of his coat.
The next thing I knew, there was a bright flash on the table in front of me. I blinked, unconsciously trying to clear the spots from my eyes. I had the briefest glimpse of something round and metallic spewing out a thick cloud of smoke, then my vision was completely obscured.
An instant later, the fire alarm went off. For a normal-sized person, it was loud. For me, it was like the piercing wail of a banshee. I put my hands over my ears, wincing in pain.
Now, a while ago Beth had told me what the procedure was for fire emergencies in the casino. Each of the security men had a responsibility to collect one or more of us and carry us to safety, since there wouldn't be time to get restored before we left. The cocktail girls had to make their own way out, but other security men would make sure each of them got to the proper doors and weren't molested once outside.
Since I didn't relish the idea of being picked up, this was one of those things I had hoped would never happen. Still, here it was, and all I could do was deal with it. If this had occurred a week ago, before recent events, I'd have probably freaked out to no end, but now, I knew it'd be a lot easier to handle.
My first reaction on hearing the alarm was to head for the exit, which of course is what anyone thinks when they hear a warning siren. At ten inches tall, of course, I would never make it to the outer doors without getting stepped on. Instead, I hesitated so the guard responsible for me could find me more easily. This, naturally, proved to be a mistake, but what else could I have done? The elevator wouldn't have descended fast enough to save me, even if I'd known what was going on.
Almost at once I felt a powerful hand close itself around my tiny body. I gasped in surprise at the sensation, resisting the impulse to scream and struggle. This was something I had to get through, after all. Besides which, once he had me up off the platform, his grip relaxed and became more gentle.
He started walking forward, cradling me in his hand with his fingers wrapped securely around me. After a few steps we emerged from the smoke. I looked at him, glad to see the uniform of a security guard, which assuaged any fear I had that someone else was abducting me. If someone had tried, of course, they'd have no chance, I thought. Anyone leaving the casino would be searched, especially if any guards reported they hadn't collected the woman they were responsible for.
This guy moved at a leisurely pace, though, even taking care not to swing his arms too wildly. It was obvious he was being careful with me, for which I was grateful. The feeling was sort of like being on a weak roller coaster ride, but without the huge drop at the beginning.
I was treated to a bizarre view from waist level of the gigantic casino passing slowly by me. A tremendous crowd was making its way towards the exits, some of the people half-panicked. Watching those enormous giants shuffling around, paying no attention to the floor in their haste, reminded me how dangerous it would have been to be down there. I was actually glad someone was carrying me this time.
Or at least that's what I told myself. In fact, I was scared out of my wits. It was a controlled fear, though, fortunately. If this had happened a week ago, I'd have either been screaming my head off or completely catatonic by now.
We passed a couple of other security guards as we left, men whose job it was to make sure no one passed by with a tiny woman in their pocket. My guard held me up, displaying me without hesitation, and they nodded as he moved out into the parking lot. There, we joined the crowd of people milling around, waiting for the alarm to stop so they could get back inside.
My benefactor, however, did not halt. He kept right on going, walking around to the other side of a white van and climbing inside, taking me with him. Now, for the first time, I began to come to my senses and realize something was wrong.
In fact, I should have been aware of it all along. However, the shock and surprise of what had happened had overwhelmed me, and the piercing fire alarm had penetrated my head like a buzz saw, numbing my mental processes. Plus, what little attention I had was focused on not freaking out over being carried in someone's hand like a damn Barbie doll.
I only just now realized was exactly what it was that started all this. Something metallic had landed on the table. It flashed--and then I was surrounded by smoke. And, out of a half-remembered corner of my mind, I saw a motion from the man in the coat.
A grenade! He'd thrown a flash-and-smoke grenade!
Even as I realized this, my captor slammed the van's door shut behind him and reached down onto the floor of the passenger's seat. To my dismay, there was a cage there, the kind of cage you keep a hamster in. The top was open, and even though at that moment I realized my fate, I was too stunned to even struggle as he shoved me inside, slamming the lid down and clamping it shut.
I picked myself up off the floor and looked up at him through the bars, wearing what I'm sure was a pathetic, desperate expression. He was staring down at me, a huge, satisfied grin on his face, and I shuddered.
It had happened at last, as I'd always known and feared it would.
I was being kidnapped!