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“Not until I can find a weak link in Giorgio’s defenses,” Don Pucci responded.

Blade looked over his right shoulder at Geronimo and Helen.

Geronimo nodded.

“What if we were to weaken his defenses for you?” Blade asked, staring at the Don.

Pucci studied the giant for a moment. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

“Mindy and Hickok are in the Palace,” Blade said. “We must go after them.”

“You’ll be cut down before you cross the boulevard,” Don Pucci commented.

“Perhaps,” Blade stated. “But if we can punch a hole in his defenses before he’s ready, if we can keep him occupied, you’d have the advantage you need.”

“Hmmmm,” Don Pucci said thoughtfully. “Attack him now, before he’s ready, before he has the opportunity to call in all of his soldiers? He’d never expect a direct assault now, because he undoubtedly assumes I’m too busy mobilizing my forces.” He grinned. “It could work.”

Blade looked at Mario. “You mentioned explosives. What kind do you have?”

“Name it, we have it,” Mario replied. “Dynamite, grenades, plastic explosives.”

“Any smoke bombs?” Blade asked.

Mario nodded. “A crate or two.”

“We’ll need a crate of smoke bombs and four grenades apiece,” Blade stated.

Mario looked at Don Pucci, who nodded curtly. Mario hastened off.

“How do you propose to proceed?” Pucci queried the giant.

“We’ll go in first,” Blade said. “Hold back your men for several minutes.

We want Giorgio totally unprepared for your attack. If he’s involved with fighting us, he won’t notice our ruse until it’s too late.”

“You take great risks, my friend,” Don Pucci commented.

“Nothing ventured, nothing gained,” Blade philosophized.

“I just pray that Mindy is still alive,” Helen remarked anxiously.

“And Hickok,” Geronimo added.

Blade stared at the Don. “If Giorgio loses, what happens to his Family?”

“They will be absorbed into my Family,” Don Pucci answered. “They will owe their allegiance to me.”

“You won’t conduct reprisals?” Blade inquired.

“No. Why should I? Senseless reprisals are a waste,” Don Pucci said.

“The easiest way to kill a snake is to cut off its head, not chop its body into little pieces.”

“With Giorgio’s Family combined with your own,” Blade noted, “you’ll be the undisputable leader in Vegas. No one else will challenge you.”

“I hope you are right,” Pucci said. “But you never know. There is always someone who believes the grass is greener on the other side of the fence.”

The makeshift wall was six feet high, and the mobsters had ceased piling furniture and were passing out machine guns.

Mario returned, attended by four men carrying two heavy crates. The men deposited the crates near the Warriors.

“Here you go,” Mario said. “A crate of smoke bombs and a crate of grenades. Take whatever you need.” He glanced at the men. “Open them.”

One of the men departed, only to return moments later with a crowbar.

The quartet applied themselves to prying the tops off.

“We’ll need some assistance from you to get across the boulevard,” Blade mentioned to the Don.

“Anything you want, you get,” Don Pucci declared.

“I need a car,” Blade detailed. “Can you have one running behind your casino within five minutes?”

Don Pucci snapped his fingers and Mario ran toward the rear of the casino.

“Will Don Giorgio have men watching the back?” Blade inquired.

“He might, but I doubt it,” Pucci responded. “He hasn’t had the time to get all his troops in place.”

“What about the boulevard and the side streets? Will they be cordoned off?” Blade needed to know.

“No,” Pucci said. “No one in their right mind will come near either casino. The Enforcers will keep everyone away from both joints.”

“Are the Enforcers your men?” Blade questioned.

“The Enforcers are selected from every Family,” Don Pucci revealed.

“They take an oath of neutrality and serve for one year. After their duty, they return to their Family.”

“So they won’t take a part in this conflict?” Blade remarked.

“No,” Don Pucci said. “Neither will the other Dons, if they stick by their word.”

“Okay, then,” Blade stated. “We will circle around the Golden Crown and approach the Palace on the boulevard. When you hear a single shot, have a dozen of your men hurl smoke bombs out to the middle of the boulevard. We’ll do the rest.”

The tops were off the crates.

Blade moved to the crate of grenades and selected four, stuffing two into each front pocket. “Each of you take four,” he instructed Geronimo and Helen.

Geronimo hefted one of the grenades. “I just hope this doesn’t accidentally go off in my pants. My wife would be terribly disappointed.”

“I hope I get to cram one of these down Giorgio’s throat!” Helen said angrily.

Mario was running toward them. “The car is all set. It’s an antique Buick, built like a tank.”

“Thanks,” Blade said. He looked at the Don and extended his right hand.

The Don, somewhat surprised, took the huge hand in his own.

“I want your word,” Blade declared. “If something should happen to me, my friends must be permitted to leave Vegas unharmed, no matter what else happens.”

Don Pucci appeared hurt by the implication. “Need you ask?”

“No, I guess not,” Blade said. He squeezed the Don’s hand and let go.

“Let’s go find that ding-a-ling in buckskins,” Geronimo remarked.

“May God be with you,” the Don said to Blade. “Oh! I almost forgot. It’s important that you know Giorgio lives on the third floor.”

“Come with me,” Mario directed. He turned and jogged in the direction of a door on the left-hand side of the rear wall.

Blade kept pace with the man in white, Geronimo and Helen on his heels.

Behind them, Don Pucci was barking orders.

They crossed the casino, following Mario down a tiled corridor until they came to an enormous kitchen with white walls and sparkling utensils.

Once through the kitchen, they traversed another hallway and exited the building by way of a red door. Before them was a sprawling parking lot filled with vehicles. Armed mobsters ringed the rear of the casino. Ten yards from the door was a dark blue Buick, the engine idling, three hit men standing near the grill.

“There’s your car,” Mario said.

They ran to the Buick.

One of the men near the grill looked at the Warriors, then at the car.

“This is mine,” he said sadly. “She’s an antique. I’ve spent every spare penny I’ve earned to fix her up.”

Mario smacked the front fender. “It’s as solid as they come.”

Blade opened the driver’s door and slid in. The front seat was somewhat cramped for a man of his size. All the windows were down.

Geronimo and Helen walked to the other side. Helen climbed into the rear and Geronimo took the passenger side, resting the Browning barrel on the dash.

“Good luck,” Mario offered, and hurried inside.

Blade closed his door and gripped the wheel.

The three mobsters had moved to one side.

“Try to keep her in one piece,” the owner called sorrowfully. He looked like he was about to cry.

“I’ll try,” Blade said, and shifted into drive. He drove toward an exit on the northern boundary of the parking lot.

“Do you have a plan?” Geronimo asked.

“We’ll use the Buick to get inside the Palace,” Blade said. “Once we’re there, we’ll unload the grenades. After that, we wing it.”

“I’m going to find Mindy,” Helen vowed. “And I’ll kill anyone who stands in my way.”