David Robbins - Nevada Run

Nadine was clearly pleased by his attention. She cleared her throat and gazed around the room.

Out of the corner of his left eye, Hickok saw Kenney 20 feet away, regarding them intently.

Nadine’s head nodded once, almost imperceptibly.

Kenney beamed.

Hickok pretended to be immersed in the blackjack game for a few moments.

“Are you hungry?” Nadine asked.

“Nope,” Hickok replied.

“Me neither,” Nadine said. “And if we want to talk, we won’t have much privacy in the casino.”

“I don’t know where else we could go,” Hickok remarked artlessly.

“I do,” Nadine stated. “I’m on vacation. I have a suite upstairs. If you don’t mind, we could go up there and talk. I have some munchies in the fridge if you do get hungry.”

“I don’t know…” Hickok hedged. “What would your husband or boyfriend say?”

“I’m not married,” Nadine answered. “And I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Then I guess we can go up to your room,” Hickok said, putting a nervous tinge in his voice.

Nadine looped her right arm in his left. “Don’t be shy! I won’t bite.

We’ll have fun together.”

Hickok smiled at her. “I hope so.”

Nadine led the gunman toward the elevators along the far wall. “Tell me about yourself,” she coaxed him.

“There’s not much to tell,” Hickok said.

“Where are you from?”

“Oh, here and there,” Hickok responded.

“What do you do for a living?” Nadine probed.

“This and that,” Hickok answered.

Nadine’s eyes narrowed. “I saw you tangle with Murphy,” she mentioned.

“I hope it didn’t shock your sensibilities,” Hickok remarked decorously.

“No,” Nadine said. “I’ve seen shootings before, but I’ve never seen anyone draw a gun as fast as you do.” She paused. “Do you do everything so fast?”

Hickok chuckled. “Not everything.”

“That’s nice to hear,” Nadine commented. “Some things should be done nice and slow.”

“Like eatin’ venison steak,” Hickok said, and licked his lips.

Nadine laughed. “I was thinking of something else.”

Hickok looked at her. “Oh? What?”

“I’ll save it for a surprise,” Nadine stated, and giggled.

“Oh, goody!” Hickok stated. “I love surprises!”

They reached the row of six elevators. Nadine pressed an UP button on the wall, and they took the first elevator which opened, the second from the right.

Nadine punched the button for the eighth floor. “I’m in 819,” she mentioned.

The elevator door closed and they ascended.

Nadine squeezed Hickok’s left arm playfully. “This is going to be fun!”

Hickok smiled. “You don’t know the half of it.”

Blade, Geronimo, and Helen stood quietly next to the huge windows overlooking the glittering city. Dusk enshrouded the landscape, and the nearly infinite variety of Vegas’s neon lights had flared to life. To the three Warriors from the Home, where kerosene lanterns were a luxury at night, the impression was dazzling.

Blade turned and faced the doorway to the moderately sized chamber as the door opened and the Dons filed inside. The five men were a curious mixture of statures and physiques.

A large, circular wooden table filled the center of the room. Six wooden chairs ringed the table at regular intervals. Seated in his wheelchair near the windows, his hands on the table, his back to the Warriors, was Don Pucci. The token from Johnny’s Palace was clenched in his left hand.

The five Dons halted when they saw the Warriors.

“What the hell is this?” demanded a portly, bald man in a white suit.

“Council meetings are to be conducted in private. No soldiers. No Consiglioris. No one else.”

“With your indulgence, Don Marchese,” Don Pucci said. “I have called this emergency meeting of the Council, and these people are present at my invitation. Their testimony is essential to the topic we will discuss.”

Another Don, a small man with brown hair and eyes, attired in an immaculate blue suit and shining, black patent leather shoes, spoke up.

“What is this topic, Don Pucci?”

“We are here, Don Lansky, to discuss the danger of Las Vegas being attacked by a Federation army,” Don Pucci replied.

The Dons exchanged startled glances.

“Vegas is going to be attacked?” Don Marchese queried in astonishment.

“Please,” Don Pucci said, gesturing at the chairs. “Have a seat. Everything will be explained.”

The Dons quickly sat down.

Don Pucci angled his wheelchair so he could see the Warriors and the table. “First, I must make the introductions.” He waved his right hand at the Warriors. “These three are Warriors from a compound called the Home located in Minnesota.”

With raking stares, the Dons scrutinized the newcomers.

Don Pucci went on. “Their leader is Blade, the big one. The Indian is Geronimo. The broad is Helen.”

“Why are they here?” asked a man in a green suit with a ragged scar on his left cheek.

“I’m getting to that, Don Siegel,” Don Pucci stated. He motioned for Blade to step over to the table.

Blade complied, the Commando slung over his shoulders, his hands on the hilts of his Bowies. “Hello, gentlemen,” he said.

Don Pucci pointed at the Dons, introducing them one by one, going from right to left. “This is Don Marchese, then Don Lansky.” He indicated a stocky man in brown with a bulbous nose and a sloping forehead. “Don Cuascut. Don Siegel.” Next he pointed at a lean man in a gray suit. “And, finally, Don Talone.”

“Wait a minute,” Don Talone said in a high-pitched voice. “Where is Don Giorgio? We can not hold a Council meeting without all of the Dons present. You know the rules.”

“Don Giorgio will arrive in a half hour,” Don Pucci explained, “I wanted to have thirty minutes to ourselves. You’ll understand why in a few moments.”

“This isn’t proper,” Don Talone said.

Don Pucci smiled benignly. “Don Talone, your friendship with Don Giorgio is well known and we can appreciate your loyalty. However, in this instance your loyalty is misplaced. Thanks to your friend, we are in jeopardy of having the Freedom Federation declare war on us.”

“What is the Freedom Federation?” Don Lansky asked.

Don Pucci nodded at Blade. “Would you do the honors?”

“The Freedom Federation is an alliance of seven factions,” Blade detailed. “Three of the factions, the Family, the Clan, and the Moles, are all located in what was once Minnesota. Our allies include the Flathead Indians in Montana and the Cavalry in the Dakota Territory. Our two largest members are the Civilized Zone and the Free State of California.”

“I’ve heard of the Federation,” Don Siegel mentioned. “Why would they want to give us any grief?”

Don Pucci frowned. “Because one of us is responsible for kidnapping a young woman from the Family,” he answered.

Blade studied the expressions on the Dons. They were each digesting the news with a calm, but somber, detachment. All except for Giorgio’s friend, Talone. He was biting his lower lip nervously.

“The Warriors and I spent the afternoon together,” Don Pucci went on.

“I am convinced their grievance is genuine. If we don’t show them respect and help them, they could take their case to the Federation leaders. Do we want to risk having a Federation army sent against us?”

“Hold the phone,” Don Marchese said. “We have high-ranking visitors from California and the Civilized Zone all the time. We pay them good money to insure they don’t meddle in our affairs—”

“But this time we have meddled in theirs ,” Don Pucci said, interrupting.