The answer came from an unexpected source.
Hickok was walking past the blackjack tables when he saw her again.
The one with the nice teeth. The one who had walked by him five times during the afternoon. Each time she had smiled seductively and given him a come-hither look, and each time he had returned her smile and gone about his business. The last such incident had been prior to the poker game. She had sashayed up to him and requested a match to light her cigarette. He’d checked his pockets, told her he didn’t have any matches, and walked off, leaving her with her rosy red lips gaping.
Now there she was again, watching a blackjack game.
She was about six feet tall, and she had been blessed with a body of abundant proportions in all the right places. Her hair was a dusty gold, worn down to the small of her back.
Her eyes were blue. The front of her red dress formed a V with the point touching her navel. When she leaned forward, her breasts threatened to make a bid for freedom. Her face was oval, her lashes long and lovely.
Hickok repressed a smirk and stepped up to her. “Howdy. Remember me?”
She turned, her eyes widening slightly before she recovered her composure. “I remember you,” she said huskily. “You’re the man who doesn’t carry matches.”
“The name is Earp,” Hickok fibbed once more. “Wyatt Earp.”
“Mr. Earp,” she said softly. “I’m Nadine.”
“That’s a right pretty name, ma’am,” he complimented her.
“Thank you, Mr. Earp,” she said.
“Call me Hi…” Hickok began, then caught himself. “Wyatt.”
Nadine grinned. “As you wish. What can I do for you?”
“I saw you standin’ here and figured we could chew the fat,” Hickok replied. “I don’t have any friends here and I’m a mite lonely.”
Nadine’s grin became a wide smile, her white teeth glistening. “How sad.”
“Do you mind if we shoot the breeze?” Hickok inquired politely. “I couldn’t help but notice how friendly you were earlier.”
“I didn’t think you’d noticed me,” Nadine said.
Hickok ran his eyes up and down her body. “How could anyone not notice a beautiful woman like you?”
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.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
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.”