Chapter 9

"Good afternoon, Mr. Buford," said Susan as she looked into her briefcase. "Or should I call you Mr. Morgan?" Derek said nothing. "You are Derek Morgan formerly of the Desert Inn, the Tropicana and the Illinois State Penitentiary, are you not?" Derek still said nothing. "I take it by your silence that you aren't going to refute that." Susan then turned to Doyle. "Mr. Doyle, I'm afraid you've employed an ex-convict. As you know…"

"Goddamn Cracker," Derek said suddenly and Doyle lifted an eyebrow and Susan blinked her eyes rapidly.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Derek replied. "A poor, black man can't get a decent job in this world. Is that it?"

"No that's' not it at all…"

"You want throw me out on the street?"

"I'm just trying to do my job, sir."

"Trying to do your job. What do you want me to do? Want me to get on the table and dance for you? Want me to shine your shoes? Want me to smile at you? Cause you definitely won't let me deal the cards. Might as well call it 'Whitejack!'"

"I don't know what to say to that," Susan said. Race has nothing to do with it." Derek snorted. "What a horrible thing to say, let alone think. Just horrible." She turned to Doyle. "Mr. Doyle, you of all people know that we at the NGC has always supported the hiring of colored…" she stopped as Derek leaped forward to grab at her. "No, I didn't mean it." She went to hide behind Doyle as Derek came upon her. Doyle pushed Susan behind himself and kept his eyes on Derek.

"Sit down," Doyle said forcefully to Derek as "Susan" locked eyes with Derek and gave a solid nod. "Sit Down!"

"You better talk to her," Derek said as he sat back in his seat.

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"She's got it," Gatsby said from the hotel room as she and Garcia watched from behind the cameras.

"Eliot, Shawn, deliver the package."

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Out on the casino floor, Shawn and Eliot were pushing a cash cart toward the money storage entrance only stopping to open the door.

"Where's your card?" Shawn asked his brother.

"I think I lost it." Eliot replied.

"Are you serious?! You're so stupid, do you know that?!" Their voices were getting louder and attracting more attention.

"You think it helps to call someone names when they're already upset?!"

"Hey," said the security guard at the door. "Keep it down."

"Sorry," said the brothers.

"Where did this come from?"

"High roller's room," said Shawn. "It's Mr. Doyle's stuff in here."

"Alright, Eddie, take this inside."

"To the count room?" Eddie asked.

"No, to the vault. Doyle's money goes into the vault; you know that." He then turned to the brothers. "Next time, just remember the card, and we won't run into this problem again."

The brothers nodded.

"Right."

"Sorry."

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The security monitors showed that the two monkeys were escorting Spencer down a hallway and another showed a guard entering an elevator with the cash cart while the guard with the briefcase held it open for him.

"There's your briefcase now, Mr. Kowalski," Hankel said.

"Good," Saul replied as he ate some chocolate.

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"That's my cue," Gatsby said as she finished her tie. "Give Hotch and Ziva the go." Garcia nodded as Gatsby walked out of the hotel room.

"Bonnie, Clyde, what's your status?" No Answer came. "Ziva! Aaron!"

"Hey, Penelope! Only my girl calls me 'Aaron,'" Hotch replied.

"What's your status?" Garcia asked, annoyed.

"Don't worry, chica, we're almost there." Ziva said with a smirk as they parked in a deserted parking lot in the middle of Las Vegas.

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Susan, Derek, Doyle and Hankel stepped out of the conference room.

"Tobias, show this man off the property," Doyle said. He then turned to Derek. "Don't ever set foot in my casino again." It was no idle threat, either."

"Sir," Hankel said as he led the way out of the building.

"Cracker!" Derek took one last shot at Susan.

"Oh, dear God," Susan flinched.

Mini-tornado averted, Doyle started to walk in the other direction, toward the exit of the building. As Susan felt for her cell phone, she noticed that it was missing.

"Crap, I forgot my cell phone, I'm sorry," she told Doyle, who quickly looked at his watch and sighed.

"Do you know your way back?"

"I do."

"Good." He didn't wait for a reply as he hurried off.

"Okay, well, you enjoy the fight." As she left Doyle, Ashley pulled out the security codes in a tiny envelope from her pocket and smirked as she walked toward the elevator.

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"So how much longer do you think Mr. Doyle's gonna be?" Spencer asked. He was sitting on a desk with the two monkeys watching. He smirked. "No cameras in this room, huh? Don't want anybody to know what goes on in here." He smirked again. "He's not coming, is he?" Just as he said that, there was a knock on the door. As the hired help opened it, two more goons entered the room. One was muscular built with long, messy blonde hair and a shadowed beard. The other was a huge guy, in every way. He was dressed like a bouncer.

"We're gonna step outside; leave you three to talk things over," said one of the twins. Spencer sighed and rolled his head from side to side.