THE GALA

Riley Hudson adjusted his bow tie over his crisp white shirt and then buttoned his tuxedo jacket, effectively concealing his shoulder holster.  He pulled a black mask out of his pocket and firmly affixed it over the upper portion of his face. He then pulled the slightly crumpled invitation from his other jacket pocket as he entered the building and presented it to a security team member just inside the spacious foyer where elaborately masked guests in evening attire were moving through a security scanner.  Others were being checked with a large wand. Riley placed a set of keys into the offered basket and stood still as the security man waved his metal-detecting wand over Riley's body and then motioned him to move on. He nodded slightly to the beefy security man before he picked up his keys and moved forward into the next section of the foyer that held a cloakroom and some washrooms. He discreetly entered the empty cloakroom. The mid-summer event tonight did not call for an attendant.

 He moved to the back of the long cloakroom and glanced around, it appeared that in the summer months when coats and wraps were not needed to be checked in, the cloakroom also doubled as a storage area.  He reached up to a high shelf that was holding extra tablecloths and candelabras. Reaching under the tablecloths he withdrew a gun that had been smuggled into the hall before the security team had set up their security station. He checked the gun, loaded it into his empty shoulder holster, and then did up his tuxedo jacket.   He was about to return to the main foyer when the door to the cloakroom squeaked open and someone entered the room. He immediately darted behind a large stack of chairs and tables on utility carts.

Riley gambled and took a quick peek around the stack of chairs. Towards the front of the cloakroom, he caught a glimpse of the person who had entered the room. He was on the short side, with dark hair worn long. He, like all the guests tonight, wore a mask, his mask resembled a fox face and the rusty orange of the mask matched the small bowtie at his throat.  Obviously, black-tie affair had a whole different meaning for this individual. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a cell phone, and held it to his ear.

“Yeah,” the newcomer spoke abruptly. “I just got here. Where’s the piece?  He paused, waiting to hear from the person on the other end of the line. “Okay, hang on a sec.” The man walked down the room on the side opposite from Riley. He stopped and picked up a cardboard box labeled Lost and Found, and rummaged through it. Riley saw him pull out a Glock, which he fumbled with for a few seconds before putting it in his right jacket pocket “Okay, I’ve got it,” he told his caller.” Consider it a done deal. No one wants to hear the  speech anyway, keynote speeches are always the longest and most boring Yeah, yeah.” Fox face listened and broke in. ‘Look, I gotta go.” He dropped the phone in his left jacket pocket and took several deep breaths before exiting the room.

“Well, that was valuable.” thought Riley. He had gained much information during the short exchange between callers. First, the shooter was right-handed, and he was a newbie to the game, his deep breaths before he exited the room were a surefire indication of his non-professional status, as was the way he clumsily checked out the Glock as if he was unfamiliar with the weapon, and although he had not mentioned anyone by name there was only one keynote speaker tonight. 

He had just started to unbend from behind his stack of chairs when the telltale squeak of the cloakroom door announced another person entering the room.” How many guns are hidden in this room,” Riley asked himself.  This guest was a woman, a beautiful woman too. She pulled off her peacock mask, adjusted her intricate French twist, and donned the mask, then she adjusted her peacock-coloured gown and sashayed out the door. “False alarm,” thought Riley. He gave it another two minutes before making his way out of the cloakroom and into the main ballroom where the gala was being held.

The banquet hall was filled with finely appointed circular tables, tall, colourful, fragrant floral arrangements, with thin ivy trails which cascaded onto the white linen tablecloths. Expensive bone china, matching crystal stemware, and a plethora of silverware further enhanced the tables. A small dias had been added at the front of the hall with a fine oak podium. A row of governmental flags behind the dias added a touch of jarring colour to the otherwise elegant ballroom.  Politicians, of course, must represent.

Guests were already starting to take their seats or were searching for their names on the gold-embossed nameplates set above the elegant place settings.  He searched briefly until he found the nameplate for Dr. Wren Warner, he palmed the card and moved it to a more favourable position, one better suited to his purposes. He hoped that Dr. Warner was quite comfortable locked in the trunk of his vintage white Cadillac. It would be hours before the effect of the drug he had injected into the good doctor wore off. Riley’s new vantage point gave him not only a clear view of the podium where the keynote speaker would stand but also a place to watch where Foxface was sitting, as well as a clear path to the exit door.

 Riley watched as the guests slowly meandered into the room. He checked his watch and nodded. Five minutes before everyone sits down. Other guests joined him at the table and after introductions, they all made polite conversation about banal things like the weather and the current event that they were attending. The women at his table were thrilled that the night’s event was masked, they thought that it offered a mysterious flavour to the evening despite that place cards indicated at which table you sat. Several of the ladies, having found their arranged seating, turned their name cards over. It was more daring and venturesome and somehow more risque. Things could be said and done beyond the norm. Flirtations could be held without fear of reprisal. The men were less keen on the idea.  They were here for a purpose, dragged here mostly to support the charities that their wives or girlfriends were affiliated with and to delve deep into the wallets to support these charities and to get a nice tax deduction for tonight's o

Riley watched as servers started to serve the first course of salad,  elevator music floated down from discreetly placed speakers. Riley sighed in relief when the main course of lobster and steak started to be distributed, he was a meat and potatoes kind of guy, not into leafy greens. at least he would be well-fed tonight.  A server pushing his small trolleys stopped by their table to serve food. Referring to a printout lying on the cart, the server looked around the table and asked.

“ Dr. Warner?”

 Riley raised his hand and the server placed a plate on top of his charger plate,  Leafy vegetables, and more salad.

“What is this?” Riley asked the server.

“You are Dr. Warner?” The server asked 

“Yes.”

 The server reached for the printed paper lying on his trolley.  When you RSVP’d, you indicated you would require a vegan meal.”

“ Ah, yes of course”.

The server smiled and moved on. Riley mentally gagged. More salad.  He had been looking forward to surf and turf. Oh well. He had a mission to accomplish tonight and it wasn’t about the food. Tiramisu was a welcome end to the dinner and somewhat compensated for the loss of the surf and turf, especially when the skinny blond with the lace and pearl mask beside him offered him her dessert. Two deserts were a slight compensation for having to eat so many veggies.

While coffee and tea were being served the first politician and master of ceremonies stood up to the podium again, reiterated the welcome that had preluded dinner, and announced the first of the speakers. The main speaker or keynote politician and speaker would end the speeches followed by champagne and wine and cheese offered in the adjoining room. And of course the silent auction or the not so silent auction. Society loved to outdo one another, and the more your neighbour or rival knew about how much you were bidding, well so much the better, the bidding would go up exponentially and thus the charities benefited more. It was a game, a deep pockets game but everyone invited to the masked gala knew what the game was about.  The elaborately decorated masks were just part of the game of course. Then of course there was another game afoot. A much more seedy and dark game that only a few in the room knew about.

Finally, it was time for the keynote speaker, and the crowd clapped enthusiastically as he stood grinning at the podium. Seconds later the room dissolved into pandemonium as shots were fired and screams ensued. Guests either hit the floor or ran for the ballroom exits. Riley holstered his gun unseen and made a beeline for his designated exit. Mission accomplished, he thought with satisfaction.