Nevada Run

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Nevada Run Page 6

by David Robbins


  Ma glanced at the gunman. “I’ve got to hand it to you, sonny. I’ve lived a long time, and I’ve seen my share of men who fancied themselves quick with a gun, but I’ve never seen anyone the likes of you.”

  Hickok chuckled. “Just natural aptitude, I reckon.”

  Blade crossed to the counter and peered over the rim. The tall man was crumpled on the floor, blood oozing from a half-dozen holes. He turned and studied the matron. “What was the setup here?”

  “Setup?” Ma repeated innocently.

  “Whatever it was,” Hickok mentioned, “it was mighty slick. Those cow chips had their handguns taped underneath their tables.”

  Blade walked up to Ma. “What was the setup? Did your gang rob the customers who came through?”

  Ma snorted. “I wouldn’t stay in business long if I did that, now would I? Besides, I wouldn’t stoop to petty robbery.”

  “Then what was it?” Blade snapped.

  “I’m in the skin trade,” Ma said.

  “The what?” Blade responded.

  “Oh. I keep forgetting. You don’t know a thing about Vegas,” Ma said.

  “So let me fill you in. There are dozens of casinos in Vegas. And for every casino there are five houses—”

  “Houses?” Blade interrupted.

  “Yeah. You know. Brothels. Whorehouses,” Ma stated. “Houses of prostitution.”

  “Prostitu—” Blade began in astonishment.

  “Yeah. Don’t tell me you don’t know what a prostitute is?” Ma asked.

  “I’ve read about them,” Blade admitted.

  “Read about them?” Ma said, then laughed. “You’ve never visited a whorehouse?”

  “No,” Blade replied.

  “Now I know you’re from the moon!” Ma quipped.

  “What do these whorehouses and the casinos have to do with your setup?” Blade questioned.

  “I’m in the skin trade,” Ma explained. “There aren’t as many women around as there used to be. The houses and the casinos need women.

  Pretty women. Lots and lots of them. I’m in the supply business. If a real looker comes along, like your friend here, I arrange to send her to Vegas.”

  “How do you arrange it?” Blade probed.

  Ma nodded at the tray of milk on the table. “Usually we drug their drinks. When they pass out, we grab them. Easy as pie.”

  “But what if there are others with them? What if they’re with their family?” Blade inquired.

  “They’re taken care of,” Ma said.

  “You mean they’re killed,” Blade deduced.

  Ma didn’t respond.

  Helen’s lips curled downward distastefully. “You drug women and force them into a life of prostitution? How could you?”

  “Don’t look down your nose at me, dearie!” Ma rejoined. “Being a pro isn’t as bad as all that. I should know. I worked the line once, I worked my way up to become the madam at one of the top casinos in Vegas. But there comes a time when you get put out to pasture, when you get too old for the trade. So when Don Giorgio offered me this franchise, I could hardly refuse. I make a good living here.”

  “Who is Don Giorgio?” Blade asked.

  “He’s the head of the second most powerful Family in Vegas,” Ma answered.

  “How long have you been doing this?” Blade queried.

  “Four years,” Ma said.

  “So you planned to drug us and sell me into prostitution?” Helen wanted to know.

  “I was going to do it,” Ma admitted, “but Harry talked me out of the idea. He said you were packing too much hardware, that you looked like you could handle yourselves. He said you were professionals, that we should let you leave in peace. So I agreed. Harry was always a shrewd judge of character.” She paused and snickered. “Isn’t this funny? We decide not to try and snatch Helen, we don’t even bother to drug your drinks, and you end up blowing most of us away!”

  “It’s hilarious,” Blade said dryly.

  “We should head on out,” Helen urged. “Mindy must be in Vegas by now.”

  “Tell me something,” Ma said to Helen. “What’s this girl to you?”

  Helen’s features hardened. “She’s my daughter.”

  Ma did a double take. “I didn’t know.”

  Hickok pointed at Ma. “What are we going to do about her? If we let her live, she might find a way of lettin’ the bigwigs in Vegas know we’re comin’.”

  Ma, her hands buried in her apron, looked at Blade. “I won’t rat! Honest!”

  Blade stared at the matron. What were they going to do? If they tied her up and left her at the diner, someone was bound to come along, find her, and let her loose. Taking her with them wasn’t feasible either. One of them would need to watch her at all times, and he couldn’t spare anyone for the job.

  The matter was suddenly taken out of his hands.

  Helen absently lowered her carbine to her side, gazing at the matron with a slight grin on her face. “Now I want you to tell me something,” she said.

  “What’s that, dearie?” Ma responded.

  Helen smiled sweetly. “I’d like to know what’s in that apron of yours?”

  Ma stiffened. “There’s nothing in my apron.”

  “Prove it,” Helen stated.

  Blade saw Ma sweep her right hand from under her apron, and he detected the metallic glint of a gun even as he brought the Commando up.

  But before he could squeeze the trigger, Helen fired. Her slugs slammed into the matron’s neck and face, and Ma was hurled backwards to tumble over a chair.

  Ma wound up on her right side, crimson spurting from her throat and mouth, a derringer clutched in her lifeless right hand.

  Helen walked over to the matron and nudged the body with her right boot. “She got what she deserved!” she snapped.

  “Nice shootin’,” Hickok said. “I was going to plug her myself, but I figured you should have the honor.”

  Helen looked at Blade. “Can we take off now?”

  “In a minute,” Blade told her. “We must settle some things first.” He paused. “Who’s in charge here?”

  “You are,” Helen replied promptly.

  “Who decides when we will fight and when we won’t?” Blade asked.

  “You do,” Helen said.

  “Then why did you start this?” Blade demanded. “You didn’t even believe this was a trap when we suggested it.”

  Helen gazed at Ma’s corpse. “I got to thinking about the things Hickok and you said. I realized you were right. And the more watched Ma, the more convinced I became that she knew something about Mindy. When she mentioned Don Pucci, that clinched it. I’m sorry. I was way out of line.

  I should have waited for your signal. It won’t happen again.”

  “It better not,” Blade cautioned. He surveyed the diner. “Let’s head for Vegas before someone else shows up. They’ll never know who did this if they’re aren’t any witnesses.”

  Helen hefted her Carbine. “I should be honest with you.”

  “How so?” Blade responded.

  “I’ll try to follow your orders at all times,” Helen said. “But when we get to Vegas, if we find Mindy has been hurt or been forced to become a… a prostitute, then I intend to kill everyone responsible. With or without your permission.” She stalked toward the front door.

  Blade sighed in annoyance. He should have expected this attitude.

  Helen was too emotionally involved with the mission to function effectively. He should never have agreed to bring her along.

  Hickok was reloading the spent rounds in his Pythons, smiling impishly.

  “What’s so funny?” Blade asked.

  “Helen,” Hickok replied.

  “What about her?”

  Hickok watched her walk out the door. “I never realized it before, but the lady is a lot like me.”

  “As if I didn’t have enough to worry about,” Blade muttered.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “Here he comes,” Hickok anno
unced.

  Blade saw him too. Geronimo was 500 yards off, jogging up the hill toward the stand of trees and brush in which the SEAL was concealed.

  “I don’t know how wise it is to leave the SEAL here when we go into Vegas,” Helen commented from the giant’s left.

  Blade glanced at her. “There you go again.”

  “But we’d be safer in the SEAL,” Helen said. “It’s bulletproof.”

  “It would also stand out like a sore thumb,” Blade told her. “We’ve seen over a hundred cars and trucks enter Vegas since we pulled into these trees. But the SEAL is unique. There’s nothing else like it. We’d attract too much attention if we take it into Vegas. So we’ll go in on foot.” He stared at the buildings to the southwest. Only an hour ago they had driven over a rise and spied the city approximately a mile distant. He had continued on until he’d spotted a suitable site to camouflage the transport, then wheeled off the road after checking to guarantee no one was coming from either direction. Now, as he waited for Geronimo to reach them, he double-checked the makeshift latticework of branches and brush they had used to hide the SEAL.

  “Las Vegas is huge,” Helen remarked with a touch of trepidation. “How will we ever find Mindy in there?”

  Blade adjusted a large limb over the SEAL’S grill. “We’ll find her,” he vowed.

  “Do you have a plan?” Helen asked hopefully.

  “We’ll play it by ear,” Blade said.

  “That’s a plan?” Helen retorted.

  Blade gazed at her. “Do you have a better idea?”

  “I sure do,” Helen stated. “You said Mindy will be at the Golden Crown Casino, right?”

  “That’s what Ted was told,” Blade confirmed.

  “Then I say we march right into the Golden Crown Casino and get her back!” Helen declared.

  “No,” Blade said.

  “Why not?” Helen demanded.

  “Will you think with your head instead of your heart?” Blade responded. “They will be expecting us to do exactly like you propose.

  They’ll be waiting for us. And what good can we do Mindy if we walk into a trap?”

  “We can’t leave her in their hands!” Helen objected.

  “I don’t intend to leave Mindy in their hands a second more than is absolutely necessary,” Blade said. “But we’ll take it slow at first. We’ll mingle, walk around, act like everybody else, blend right in. Hopefully, we can discover the extent of our opposition.”

  “Whatever you say,” Helen commented halfheartedly.

  Blade moved around the transport, carefully inspecting the camouflage.

  Helen’s shoulders slumped as she faced Las Vegas. She noticed Hickok was to her right, leaning against a tree, staring at her. “What are you looking at?” she snapped.

  “I’m admirin’ your fortitude,” the gunfighter said.

  Helen studied him for a moment, trying to determine if the gunman was serious. He was.

  “I also wanted to apologize for the crack I made about your husband,” Hickok said sincerely. “It was a bone-headed thing to say, but you did get me all riled up.”

  “I guess I had it coming,” Helen said.

  “I had no right to comment on your personal life,” Hickok mentioned.

  “I was just fed up with your gripin’.”

  Helen looked up at the blue morning sky. “I can’t believe how I’m acting on this trip!” she remarked pensively. “I pride myself on my self-control, but I certainly haven’t exhibited any.”

  “Who can blame you?” Hickok said. “If my son was down there, I’d go crazy.”

  Helen sighed. “Mindy is all I have left in this world. My parents died about six years ago. Then Andy left me for another woman. Talk about creating a scandal! We were the talk of the Home for months! Divorces are extremely rare in the Family. You know that. I’m sure you heard all the gossip.”

  “I heard it,” Hickok said softly.

  “I was heartbroken,” Helen divulged. “I loved Andy. Truly loved him. I was stunned when he told me he wanted a divorce. He claimed I was stifling his manhood. Can you imagine that?” She laughed bitterly. “We appeared before the Elders, and he stood there and read a list of reasons for our marital failure, as he called it. I was too bossy. I was a dictator. I couldn’t relate to him as a woman. I was immature. I was spiritually stagnant.” She stopped and closed her eyes. “According to him, I was the worst woman imaginable. I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised when the Elders granted his divorce petition, but I was.”

  “The Elders were right to grant the petition,” Hickok stated.

  Helen’s eyes opened and she glanced at the gunman. “Oh? So you believe Andy was telling the truth?”

  “I believe Andy is a wimp,” Hickok declared. “Always has been. And when you pair a wimp with a strong person in a marriage, either the wimp grows up and they learn to share as equals, or the strong person always dominates the marriage, or the wimp cracks under the pressure.

  The Elders knew Andy couldn’t handle the responsibility of being your hubby. If Andy had stayed with you, he would have made your life miserable. He was already foolin’ around with Gladys before he even asked you for a divorce. And let’s face it. Gladys is a ding-a-ling. Andy and her are perfect for each other. He wasn’t mature enough for a real woman like you.”

  Helen grinned. “You missed your calling. You should have been a Counselor.”

  Blade came around the transport. “The SEAL is locked tight as a drum.” He walked forward several yards, his eyes on Geronimo, who was now less than 20 feet away.

  “About time you got here,” Hickok declared loudly. “Married life has made you flabby.”

  Geronimo reached them and halted, breathing easily. “The only flab around here is between your ears,” he said to Hickok, then faced Blade.

  “What did you find out?” Blade asked.

  “Anyone can come and go as they like,” Geronimo reported. “The road leads straight into the heart of Las Vegas. There are thousands of people everywhere.”

  “Any checkpoints or security forces?” Blade inquired.

  Geronimo shook his head. “Not a one. The city is wide open. And get this. Carrying firearms must be legal because many of the people I saw were armed. Men and women alike. I went about a quarter of a mile into the city, and I wasn’t stopped or challenged once.”

  “Then we go in,” Blade stated. “And we stay close together.”

  “Are you going to carry me piggyback?” Hickok joked.

  Blade led them down the hill, angling toward the road, scanning the area for other travelers. The hill was 600 yards from the highway, and he felt supremely confident the transport would not be discovered.

  Nevertheless, he didn’t want anyone to observe the Warriors emerging from the brush. Whenever a car or truck appeared on the road he flattened and the others followed his lead. They reached the highway without being seen, coming out near the point where the SEAL had left the road.

  “Blade,” Geronimo said. “Look!” He pointed at a spot ten feet off.

  Blade turned and saw them: the tracks the SEAL’S massive wheels had made in the field bordering the highway. The huge tires had crushed the grass and weeds.

  “Should we try to cover them up?” Geronimo inquired.

  Blade heard a low rumble and spied a car approaching from the southwest, leaving Las Vegas. “No. I doubt anyone will pay much attention to the tracks. They may assume someone pulled off for a rest stop. If we try to cover them, everyone driving by will see us. We’d arouse more curiosity than the tracks themselves. Let’s go.” He marched to the southwest. The car sped past them.

  Geronimo fell in behind his giant friend.

  Hickok and Helen brought up the rear.

  “You must be on pins and needles,” the gunman commented.

  Helen managed a feeble smile. “You don’t know the half of it.”

  “Just remember you’re not in this alone,” Hickok said. “We’ll help you get
Mindy out.”

  Helen stared at the buckskin-clad gunfighter. “You’re not what I expected,” she remarked.

  “I’m not?” Hickok responded.

  “Definitely not,” Helen declared. “We haven’t had occasion to talk together very frequently. My estimation of you was based on all the stories circulating around the Family, and the stories don’t do justice to your personality.”

  “In what way?” Hickok inquired.

  “In every way,” Helen said. “According to the tales I heard, you’re just about the deadliest Warrior. Your courage is indisputable, but you’re also a bit of a blockhead. You have no regard for your personal safety. You’ll walk into a hot spot without batting an eye, and you’ll rely on your speed to bail you out if you get in over your head. Your motto is, ‘Shoot first and ask questions later,’ and you always go for the head. Some of the Family think you’re too reckless, others believe you’re the Warrior who always gets the job done, no matter what the odds might be. Personally, I don’t think you’re as big a blockhead as some people claim.”

  “Thanks,” Hickok stated. “I think.”

  “You’re more intelligent and understanding than most give you credit for being,” Helen observed. “I’m beginning to see why Sherry married you.”

  Hickok smirked. “She’s in love with my dimples.”

  Geronimo glanced over his left shoulder at Helen. “Don’t let him kid you. The only reason Sherry married him was because he brainwashed her. Somehow he convinced her he’s an ordinary kind of guy. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear he hypnotized her.”

  “Can I help it if the Spirit blessed me with charm, wit, and good looks?”

  Hickok queried lightheartedly.

  “Don’t forget modesty,” Geronimo added.

  Another car passed them, heading to the northeast.

  Blade trained his eyes on the buildings ahead. Even though it was daytime, with bright sunshine, there seemed to be a lot of lights on in Vegas. Most were neon lights advertising businesses: casinos, hotels, motels, and the like. As they drew nearer he could see the throngs of people packing the sidewalks. Vehicle traffic was also surprisingly heavy.

  Geronimo took two hasty strides and caught up with Blade. “See? No checkpoints, police, nothing.”

 

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