Irish Throwdown (What Happens In Vegas Book 4) by Matt Lincoln (motivational novels TXT) 📗

and I turned to look further into the bar where the voice had come from. I spotted Junior sitting at a tiny table shoved against a back wall and weaved my way through the crowd to get over to him.

“I’m impressed you found a place to sit so quickly!” I remarked as I set the beers down on the table.

“I saw a couple of girls get up!” he shouted with a shrug as he pulled one of the glasses toward him. “I moved in as soon as I saw the opening. Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea.”

“It’s fine!” I replied. We were literally yelling at each other, but I still felt relaxed. The chaotic atmosphere was actually kind of fun.

The pub was peculiar in its construction and was interspersed with indoor and outdoor sections. I could see several people sitting in a patio area that was still somehow inside the bar, as though the building had been built with an open space in the center.

By now, several people were singing along to the song the violinist on the small stage was playing, and a few were even up and dancing. The lights in the bar were dim, and it was easy to become intoxicated by the joyful atmosphere.

“So, where do we go from here?” Junior asked after taking a sip of his beer. “We know that the person we’re looking for is most likely in Dublin, but that’s pretty much all we have. He could be in here right now for all we know.”

“I’m not sure,” I admitted as I took a sip of my own beer. “I was really hoping those files would lead us to something.”

“We were naïve,” Junior grumbled. “It was stupid of us to head there with just two cops as backup, and it was stupid of us to let our guard down just because everyone’s been so friendly.”

“We won’t get anywhere beating ourselves up over it,” I responded. “Hindsight is twenty-twenty. Right now, we need to focus and figure out what to do next.”

“I can’t shake the feeling that there’s something we’re missing!” Junior yelled as the crowd grew more rambunctious. “Daly actually seemed surprised when we told him about the address we found on the package. I was bluffing about there being a traitor among their ranks, but now I’m wondering if that’s really the case.”

“You might be right!” I yelled back. It was getting annoying trying to scream over the sound of the surrounding crowd. “They obviously weren’t expecting us, or they would have prepared better so they wouldn’t have to set their own base on fire.”

“Hey!” A voice roared over the noise of the crowd and distracted me from my conversation with Junior. “All of you shut up! Something’s going down on the news!”

I looked up as the crowd began to quiet down at the man’s exclamation. The man who had spoken was tall and bald, with an impressive red mustache and beard that trailed down his chest.

“What are you on about?” one of the drunk customers slurred.

“You shut your trap, or I’ll toss you out,” the bald man warned as he marched toward the television mounted over the front wall of the bar. He lifted a remote and clicked it to life, and by now, the noise of the crowd had settled into a low murmur.

“What’s going on?” a woman cried as the bald man hastily flipped through channels.

“Something’s happening with the news broadcast,” he explained. “Someone’s taken it over, and they’re streaming some spooky message.”

Curious chatter broke out among the crowd as people speculated as to what could be happening.

“It’s probably some eejit playing a prank,” one man scoffed.

“Do you think it’s some kind of publicity stunt?” another man asked. “Aren’t movie studios always doing crazy things like that?

“Hush up!” the bald man barked as he finally found the correct channel. It was staticky, and I could just barely make out the image of a news studio as the image crackled into and out of focus.

“… in time, then you’ll be able to find him,” a voice spoke through the screen. “If not, the bomb will go off. You have twenty-four hours left before the timer attached to the bomb reaches zero.”

“What did he just say?!” a woman screamed as soon as the voice finished speaking.

“He said something about a bomb!” a different man yelled, and in the next moment, the crowd broke into a panic as people stood from their chairs and scrambled to get out of the bar.

“Shut up!” The bald man roared as he lifted a wooden chair and smashed it into pieces on the edge of the stage. The sound caused everyone in the bar to stop dead in their tracks. “He’s starting to talk again!”

Every eye in the room turned toward the TV as the voice crackled to life again.

“I’m disappointed in you, agents,” the voice sneered. My blood ran cold as I heard those words. The voice was high pitched and was undulating unnaturally, but I could still hear the menace behind the words. “I set everything up so perfectly for you, and you let them all slip away. After everything that’s happened between us, I never expected you to be so pathetic.”

“What is he talking about?” the same woman from before shrieked.

“Donna, be quiet!” one of the woman’s friends hissed before turning her attention back to the screen.

“I’ll give you another hint,” the voice chirped. “But you’d better hurry. I’ve hidden a note somewhere in Dublin. You can consider this a treasure hunt. After those hacking skills I observed in Japan, I’m certain this won’t be a problem for you.”

I turned to look at Junior, whose eyes were wide with confusion and fear. There was no doubt that the voice was speaking to us, but I couldn’t understand how this was happening.

“I’ve written the name and location of the man you’re looking for on that note,” the voice continued. “But I’ve also attached an explosive device to that note. You’re familiar with