I'd always thought of Club Rouge as the sort of club that's really a factory. The rich and famous go in, the poor and despondent leave. Tip: If you have money, don't take it here.
You enter the club to find what you always do. A ritzy, ballroom-style casino. The people there are always the same, too. The haves, and the have-mores. The casino whores. The tough guys. And the usual assortment of the Ultimate Lifeform mob, with their sharp Armani suits and the telltale bulges under their arms. But this is only the beginning of the club. There's another world beneath it.
As usual, I strode through the small side door by a baccarat table where some old-timer was hitting on some casino girl. Would he succeed?
Depends how lucky he's been with the deck tonight, I thought, and walked into the back room of Club Rouge.
It's nice enough, if you're like the people there. If you're a drunk, or down-and-out, or a crook of any kind, this is the place for you. It has but two functions: Fill 'em up, and throw 'em out.
I sat down to find Ms. Rouge the Bat herself on the other end of the bar. Her low-line, late-night attire, though very fetching, was totally out of place here in the underbelly of society.
"Same?" came the perennial question, like those clerks who always ask you if you found everything all right. They know you will answer "Yes," because a negative is just wrong in the context. Before I'd even finished answering, my double Jack and Coke lay in front of me.
For once in my life, the thought of information drowned out my thirst. "Not tonight, Rouge." Like I said, totally out of context, right? She visibly stiffened. Fortunately, I have a cure for that.
I dropped a twenty on the table. I doubt it was there two seconds before she snatched it. "I need to know about emeralds. Energy-wise, I mean."
Trust Rouge to determine her mood on the outcome of a bunch of gems. She'd been left out in the cold too when emeralds became big. Any chance to get into the business again was always greeted with the utmost enthusiasm. She sat down, behind the bar. As she did, I couldn't manage to keep my eyes away from that dark chasm of her cleavage.
As always, she noticed. "Bad Knuckles. Go to my room."
I smiled. "Sometime for sure, Rouge. Just talk, and we'll see."
She pouted prettily, but me and Rouge are of that rare breed that values money above sex. We both know that cash is the reason some die lonely and some "get more" than a toilet seat. After her gorgeous little sulk, she sat down, and talked…
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Emerald Island at night always stops you cold. Cold as the grave. I walked out of the club after some talk, some foreplay, and a good screw. The former and the latter were both on my mind.
Apparently, emerald-powered anything is hotter than ever. The demand for new energy sources coupled with the new trend of "hot cars" had led to an all-out price war between every corporation from here to Knothole over the emeralds and the cars. As usual, Prower held the lead. Tails was on the verge of power beyond his wildest dreams, undisputed control of the most valuable substance on Mobius – Chaos emeralds.
As a result, every other big name in the industrial world wanted him down, ASAP. But whoever took out Tails would need some muscle on Angel, some sort of foothold. There were only four such people. I swiftly ruled out the one I had shot.
Lost in thought, I crossed into an alley, always a bad idea if you're not ready for it. A soft click behind me made me stop dead in my tracks the way only a MR Desert Eagle fifty-caliber can.
I didn't even need to turn around to see who it was. I also knew who the guy with the foothold had to be. The one guy in this 'burg up to his eyeballs in everything from extortion to murder.
Shadow.
