Nevada Run

by David Robbins

  “Is this a meeting of the Council or an interrogation?” Don Giorgio demanded testily.

  “It is both,” Don Pucci answered.

  “I am insulted by your lack of courtesy,” Don Giorgio said to Don Pucci.

  “I came over to your joint in good faith, with only six of my men, as required by our agreement. And now you say you want to grill me over some kidnapping?”

  “We do not intend to grill you,” Don Lansky said. “We merely want to ask a few questions.”

  “Why should I agree to this breech of etiquette,” Don Giorgio snapped.

  “If you have nothing to hide, I see no reason why you can’t cooperate,” Don Pucci stated.

  Don Giorgio stared at each of the other Dons. “Are all of you in this together?”

  “Don Pucci has made serious charges against you,” Don Lansky offered placatingly. “We simply want to set the record straight.”

  “I refuse to be treated like one of the pezzonovante,” Don Giorgio said disdainfully.

  Embroiled in their dispute, accustomed to conducting their business in private amongst themselves, with their attention fully focused on another, they collectively disregarded the presence of the three Warriors. The last thing they expected was to have their conference interrupted by an outsider. So they were all the more disconcerted when a disruption abruptly occurred.

  Helen walked up to the table and leveled her carbine at Don Giorgio.

  “Where’s my daughter, you bastard!”

  Don Giorgio stiffened. “Who the hell are you?”

  “The name is Helen,” she told him icily. “You kidnapped Mindy, my daughter. Where is she?”

  “I did not kidnap your daughter, bitch!” Don Giorgio growled.

  Helen shot him.

  The single round caught Giorgio high on the right shoulder and spun him completely around. He doubled over, his left hand pressed against the wound, blood trickling over his fingers, his face contorted in savage rage.

  Without exception, the other Dons were gawking at Giorgio, dumbfounded.

  “Helen!” Blade said harshly, grabbing the Armalite barrel and pushing it upwards.

  Just then the door opened and button men raced into the room, each with a handgun. Each of the Dons had arrived at the meeting with six soldiers, and now those trigger men flocked to their Dons while uneasily eying everyone else.

  Don Pucci was the first to recover. “There will be no more shooting!” he commanded sternly.

  Don Giorgio straightened and examined his wound.

  “It’s just a scratch,” he said contemptuously. “The bitch can’t shoot straight.”

  “If I’d wanted you dead,” Helen assured him, “you’d be dead!”

  Blade was expecting one of the soldiers to open up at any second. They were on edge, primed to kill. All it would take to initiate a blood bath was one wrong word or hasty action.

  “I did not know she would do this,” Don Pucci said to Giorgio.

  “You allowed outsiders to attend a supreme Council meeting,” Don Giorgio declared with a sneer. “And you can’t even control them! Are you a Don or a windbag?”

  “This regrettable incident was completely unforeseen,” Don Pucci reiterated. “You have my apology.”

  “I don’t want your apology!” Giorgio retorted. “I want this woman! It is my right!”

  “She is here as my guest,” Don Pucci said. “She is under my protection.”

  “Are you refusing to allow my right for revenge?” Don Giorgio demanded. “I am not armed, and she put a slug through me! I have the right to snuff her!”

  A deep voice stabbed the air like a knife, drawing the scrutiny of everyone in the room to the giant in the black leather vest and the fatigue pants. “Like hell you do!”

  Don Giorgio, strangely enough, grinned. “The mighty Blade speaks!” he said mockingly.

  “So you know who I am,” Blade remarked.

  “I know all about you!” Don Giorgio boasted.

  Blade leaned forward, resting his fists on the table. “Then you must know I’m a man of my word. And I’m giving you one hour to turn Mindy over to us, or we’re coming after her.”

  “You’re threatening me?” Giorgio rejoined furiously.

  “No,” Blade said softly. “I’m promising you. If Mindy isn’t freed within an hour, we’ll come get her.”

  Giorgio gazed at each of the Warriors. “All three of you?”

  “They won’t be alone,” Don Pucci stated.

  “Are you declaring war on me?” Don Giorgio snapped.

  “I would rather not,” Don Pucci said.

  “I am not holding this Mindy,” Giorgio declared. “How can you side with these scum against me?”

  “I believe you kidnapped the girl,” Don Pucci observed.

  Giorgio’s lips curled downwards. “Are you calling me a liar?”

  There were several seconds of strained silence as the mobsters apprehensively waited for Don Pucci to respond. The fate of the seven Families hung in the balance. If he answered in the affirmative, each Don and every trigger man knew war was inevitable. And a war between any two Families would adversely affect all of them.

  Don Pucci straightened in his wheelchair. “Yes. You are a lying peasant.”

  Don Giorgio took a menacing step forward. “Why, you worthless old shit! This is the final straw! I’ve tolerated your meddling long enough!”

  Don Pucci’s eyes narrowed. “Leave now, while you still can. I invited you here under an implied pledge of neutrality, and I won’t violate the sanctity of the Council.”

  “You pompous old fart!” Giorgio declared. “Do you really think your Family is stronger than mine? You’re in for a rude awakening.”

  “You have ten minutes to vacate the premises,” Don Pucci said.

  “What about the rest of you?” Don Giorgio asked, sweeping the other Dons with an expectant gaze. “Will you side with this fossil or me?”

  None of the Dons responded.

  “You’d better decide soon,” Giorgio informed them. “I’ll remember my friends when I’m on top, but I won’t be so forgiving toward those who oppose me.”

  “We will not be intimidated,” Don Marchese stated.

  “Suit yourselves,” Don Giorgio said. “I don’t need you. I don’t need any of you.” He wheeled and stalked from the Council room, his soldiers on his heels.

  “Now the shit hits the fan,” Don Lansky remarked.

  Don Pucci looked at Helen. “That was a very foolish thing you did.

  There was a remote chance I could have reasoned with Giorgio to return your daughter.”

  “You shouldn’t have let him leave,” Helen said in reproach. “I could have made him tell me where Mindy is being held.”

  Don Pucci faced his peers. “The harm has been done. There is no turning back. You must do as your conscience dictates. If you decide to remain neutral, I will understand.”

  “This is not our fight,” Don Cuascut commented.

  “In a sense, you’re right,” Don Pucci said. “Giorgio has been after me for years. This is a personal conflict as well as business. But keep one thing in mind. Giorgio is merciless. He wants absolute power. If he wins this war, what is to prevent him from trying to destroy your Families?” He paused. “Where do you stand?”

  Don Causcut spoke first. “I want no part of it. My Family will be neutral.”

  “As you wish,” Don Pucci said.

  “Giorgio’s Family is strong,” Don Lansky noted. “I’d say the two of you are evenly matched. This war could drag out for months, even years. Our tourist trade would be crippled. Our economy would suffer. I do not like the idea of diminished coffers.”

  “You are with me then?” Don Pucci inquired hopefully.

  “Respectfully, no,” Don Lansky responded. “My Family will sit this out.

  This is between Giorgio and yourself. You must show the upstart the error of his ways. I will, however, provide whatever hardware and ammunition you may ne
ed.”

  “And you?” Don Pucci asked Don Marchese.

  Marchese frowned. “I love you like a brother, Tony. You know that. And as a brother, I give you this advice. You must prove yourself by defeating Giorgio. He threw down the gauntlet and you accepted. Now you must prove yourself worthy of being the leader of our Council. So long as the war is strictly between Giorgio and yourself, I will not intervene one way or the other.”

  Don Siegel cleared his throat. “If the others are content to allow Giorgio and you to settle this, then so am I.”

  Don Pucci bowed his head. He did not want his friends to see his overwhelming disappointment.

  “As for me,” Don Talone added, “I’m not sticking my nose in where it doesn’t belong. However, if Don Lansky is willing to supply arms to the Pucci Family, I can do no less for the Giorgio Family.”

  Don Pucci looked up at Don Talone. “Thank you for being honest. All of you should leave before the hostilities commence.”

  Without saying a word, the five Dons and their soldiers departed.

  Don Pucci sighed and gazed at Blade. “The lines have been drawn, Warrior. For better or for worse, Don Giorgio and I will resolve our differences permanently.”

  “You’re not alone in this,” Blade said. “We’re with you all the way.”

  Don Pucci smiled. “I appreciate the thought, but what can three Warriors do?”

  “You’ve never seen us in action,” Blade commented.

  “Besides,” Geronimo chimed in, “we have an ace in the hole. Or maybe I should refer to him as a wild card.”

  “Who is this wild card?” Pucci asked.

  “Hickok.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Nadine’s suite was sumptuously adorned. She closed the door behind them, flicked on the lights, and indicated a huge living room. “Make yourself at home.”

  Hickok sauntered into the living room, admiring the luxurious accommodations. “Wow! What do you do for a living? Rob banks?”

  Nadine laughed and walked toward him. “Not quite. I’m a secretary.”

  “You must make a heap of dough,” Hickok remarked, “if you can afford to live here.”

  “I don’t live here, silly,” Nadine said. “I’m renting the suite while I’m on vacation. I saved for a whole year to be able to stay here.”

  “You like to gamble?” Hickok commented.

  Nadine winked at him. “I like excitement.”

  Hickok winked back. “Me too.”

  Nadine glanced at a door in the center of the right-hand wall. “Do you mind if I change into something a little more comfortable?”

  “Suit yourself,” Hickok said.

  Nadine smiled and strolled to the door. “This will just take a minute or two. Don’t go away!”

  “I wouldn’t think of it,” Hickok assured her.

  Nadine entered the next room and shut the door. “Stretch out on the sofa. I’ll be right there,” she called out.

  “Okay,” Hickok replied. Instead, he unslung the Henry and leaned it against a chair, then ran to the hall door and eased it open a crack.

  A tail was in the corridor, approximately 20 feet away, leaning against the wall and staring moodily at the floor.

  Hickok recognized the shadow. It was not the young mobster he’d spoken to in the casino. This was the other youngish mobster, the one in the brown suit, the one he’d seen in Don Giorgio’s office. There must have been a changing of the guard. He closed the door and returned to the living room. As he was reclining on the sofa, Nadine emerged.

  “Now I’m comfortable,” she declared contentedly.

  She was also almost naked. Hickok averted his eyes, gazing at a nearby chair. The red negligee she was wearing did an adequate job of covering her navel, but that was the only part of her anatomy it seemed to cover.

  “What’s wrong?” Nadine inquired, coming around the end of the sofa.

  “Nothin’,” Hickok mumbled.

  “Don’t tell me you’re shy?” Nadine asked.

  Hickok quickly sat up to give her room to sit. “Me? Shy? Not in a million years.”

  Nadine perched herself next to the gunman. “Do I embarrass you?”

  “No,” Hickok said. “But maybe you should put on a robe or something.

  You could catch your death from pneumonia.”

  Nadine laughed. “I’m fine. Believe me.”

  Hickok stood. “I believe you.” He took a step away from the sofa, keeping his back to her. He held his right hand alongside his belt buckle and clenched his fist.

  “You are shy!” Nadine exclaimed. She grabbed the fringe of his buckskin shirt. “Come on. Have a seat. Let’s get to know each other.”

  “I can’t,” Hickok said. “I’m hitched.”

  “So what if you’re married?” Nadine commented. “It doesn’t make a difference to me.”

  “Are you sure you want me to turn around?” Hickok inquired with the utmost civility.

  Nadine tugged on his shirt. “Of course,” he said.

  “I should warn you,” Hickok advised her. “I have a surprise for you.”

  “What kind of surprise?” Nadine inquired. She noticed the angle of his right arm and misconstrued his intent. “Oh, you naughty thing, you!” she declared, giggling. “I love kinky men!”

  Hickok’s brow furrowed. What the blazes was she talking about? “So you want my surprise?” he asked, wagging his fist.

  Nadine caught the movement and tittered. “Give it to me!”

  Hickok shrugged. “If you insist.”

  Nadine was grinning in lewd anticipation when he slugged her, his wiry form whipping around in a right arc, his right fist slamming into her jaw and flattening her on the sofa.

  Hickok raised his fist for another blow, but the hooker was out cold, a rivulet of blood seeping out the left corner of her shapely mouth. “It may not make a difference to you, lady,” he addressed the unconscious prostitute, “but it makes a world of difference to me. I’ll never cheat on my missus.”

  Nadine groaned.

  Hickok grabbed the Henry and dashed to the hall door again. He inched the door outwards until he could see the corridor.

  The tail was gone!

  Or was he?

  What if the turkey had shifted positions? Hickok started to gingerly open the door wider, when suddenly the door was flung all the way open.

  There stood the smirking mobster with a Detonics Combat Master MK

  VI in his right hand. “What are you up to, asshole?” he demanded.

  “About six feet,” Hickok replied.

  “A smartass, huh?” the mobster said. “Up with your hands.”

  Hickok released the Henry and casually raised his arms.

  “You didn’t think I saw you before, did you?” the mobster mentioned.

  “But you don’t pull one over on Ozzi that easily.”

  “Your handle is Ozzi?” Hickok queried.

  “What if it is?” Ozzi peered over the gun fighter’s left shoulder and spied Nadine on the sofa. “What did you do to her?”

  “Nothin’ much,” Hickok said. “I tucked her in, is all.”

  “I knew you were up to no good,” Ozzi stated. “Okay. You’re coming with me.”

  “Where are we going?” Hickok questioned.

  “To see Don Giorgio,” Ozzi disclosed. “He went over to Pucci’s joint but he should be back soon.”

  “Why don’t we grab a bite to eat first?” Hickok suggested.

  “And give you the chance to make a break?” Ozzi rejoined. “Not on your life. And keep those hands in the air. Don’t try to touch those Colts. I’ve seen you in action, and I’m not taking any unnecessary risks. I’ve never seen anyone as fast as you.”

  Hickok grinned. “Thanks for the compliment.”

  “All Warriors must be morons,” Ozzi muttered. He backed up several feet. “Let’s go. Head for the stairwell at the end of this hall. And remember, if you lower your arms by a fraction, you’re dead meat.”


  Hickok walked from the suite and turned in the direction Ozzi was indicating, to the right. The corridor was deserted. “Where is everybody?”

  “Down in the casino,” Ozzi replied. “The upper floors are like a tomb during the evening.”

  Hickok thoughtfully studied the green door ahead, debating whether to make his move there or wait for a better opportunity. There was a small window in the door at shoulder height.

  “Stop!” Ozzi barked when they were six feet from the stairwell. “Stand facing the left wall.”

  Hickok obeyed.

  Ozzi carefully moved past the Warrior and up to the door. He was about to push it open so he could enter the stairwell first. The Warrior might be tempted to swing the door into him, or use it as a shield while drawing the Colts. By going first, he thwarted both strategies. He detected motion on the other side of the door and glanced through the window.

  Kenney was hurrying up the stairs, his countenance uncharacteristically grim. He disappeared a moment later.

  What the hell?

  For a few seconds Ozzi was mystified. Why was Kenney heading upstairs? Normally, Kenney would be conducting his daily casino rounds, inspecting all the tables and insuring everything was running smoothly.

  There was nothing upstairs of any interest. Except, of course, for Mindy.

  Mindy!

  A hard object unexpectedly touched Ozzi’s left ear.

  “Guess who?” Hickok quipped.

  Ozzi gulped, his eyes on the stairwell.

  “Let go of the hardware,” Hickok directed, his right Colt pressed against the mobster’s head. He grabbed the top of the Detonics pistol.

  Ozzi released the weapon.

  “Smart man,” Hickok said. He slid the pistol under his belt. “Now let’s mosey back to Nadine’s room.”

  Ozzi slowly turned. His mind was racing with the implications of Kenney’s presence in the stairwell. Kenney never varied his routine. Never.

  But the man was doing so now? Why? A queasy sensation developed in Ozzi’s gut. “Wait!” he blurted.

  “Quit stallin’,” Hickok admonished.

  Ozzi looked at the gunman. “Do you know Mindy?”

  Hickok was instantly all attention. “Mindy? What about her?”

  “She’s the reason you’re here, right?” Ozzi inquired.