What Happens in Vegas Stays in Vegas

Antonelli's Gulfstream G-4

By the time we are back on the strip we have emptied the skull of Muerte Verde and moved on to Scotch and Vodka from the limo bar. The events of the past couple of hours needed a little something to flush the horror from our short term memory. This is just one of about a dozen memories that I don't want invading my dreams. I feel like asking Lou how he keeps those wolves at bay... that conversation will have to happen another time in another place.

Right now we have two things that are our plates. Showing Chris a good time for saving our asses, and saving Mitch's ass up in Modoc. I also need to find a way to get a message to Jerry and let him know all that has happened. He is a tough hippie bastard, but he still worries. So I am thinking there must be some Ham radio geeks in this town that would be tickled pink to send a message out into the Guatemalan jungle.


Lou has quite a shiner where he caught that roundhouse kick. That and his torn and bloody shirt is a hell of a sight when we get out of the limousine at the Bellagio. There is an instant recognition when Chris Antonelli steps out of the back of the limousine... that an an unspoken rule of no questions asked. The less you see in Vegas the longer you live. I can't believe that he has made this big of an impression in the short time he has been out of that hospital in Belize. I can only assume that his arrival was foretold to these people by those who matter.

After watching his handywork in the desert I have to rethink our treatment of him at the Dominican's. I am thinking he was just as dangerous as those guys, but was feeling us out when we got there to make sure we weren't someone to watch our for as well. But we saved his life, delivered him to his father safely, killed just about everyone that had a hand in his and Bear's torture, and helped to avenge his father death.

And one question hangs in the air... Lou's comment on the diamonds. Chris seems patient and doesn't pursue an answer, not right now. He seems quite content on drinking with his buddies and so do we. I don't know a stronger bond of friendship that can be forged in this trial by fire, with the exception of those formed in battle.

Lou walks ahead of us, drawing looks from the blue bloods and gamblers, as though he were intruding on their lavish lifestyle... worse than the help, a bloody vagabond walking through "their" casino. He doesn't give a fuck. Let 'em look. He would probably wipe his ass with the lot of them if they said a word. Up to the front desk and right in the face of a rather pale looking black gentleman with a finely trimmed moustache and thin rimmed glasses.

"Can I help you?" No too snotty, but definitely an attitude. But there isn't much fight left in Lou tonight. Once you have seen the ass burned off of somebody you are done for the evening.

"I have an item in my safety deposit box."

"Your room number and the name on the box, sir?"
Lou gives him his name and our room number and the gentleman produces a signature card. He signs it and that is compared with the signature he made when he left the package.

"You gave me shit six ways to Sunday when I suggested you put those diamonds in a safety deposit box."
"Hey... it was a good idea after I gave it a little thought. So I took the diamonds out of the bag and put them in the box. Then after I got kicked out of that casino I had some time to pick out some perfect sized pebbles."

Pale face comes back with the box and sets it down on the counter. He offers Lou some privacy in a side office but he refuses.
"No, pal, I got it." He opens the box and pulls out an Altoids tin and then pushes the box back toward him.

We turn and walk toward the room. Antonelli smiles and gives Lou a bear sized paw on the shoulder.
"You put them in an Altoids tin?"
"No, your breath smells like a buffalo fart, so I thought I would grab these."
He pushes the tin into Antonelli's hand.

"Your dad went through hell for these. Agaki was killed for them. You were maimed for them. We lost Kozanostra for them. We almost drowned for them. A lot of people have died trying to possess them or just because of their existence. They are yours, Chris, yours and your father's. If it weren't for that fucking hostage trying to double dip on the deal everyone would be alive and well."

Chris opens the tin and stares into the handful of stars in the box. "This means a lot to me, guys. That you would save them for me, that you would give them to me. Anybody I have ever met... hell, including me, would have probably kept these a secret and cashed 'em in."
He snaps the lid closed and walks with us.

It is just the three of us. Antonelli shed his body guards back at the limousine and by the looks of that mean streak we saw back in the desert... he doesn't need one. We head into the elevator to go to our suite.
"Where are you staying, Chris?" I push the button and the doors close... Barry Manilow music is playing on the speakers as the lift rises.
"I haven't made any plans."

The doors open and we disembark and walk to the big double doors. We both feel in our pockets for the key card. Well, I feel in my pockets... Lou's are torn off.
"Hey Lou?"
He looks at me.
"Half your pants are gone."
He looks down and sees his thigh through the rip in the slacks. "Those were brand new."
I push the door bell button and the theme from the movie "Godfather" playing on chimes can be heard in the suite.
"Catchy tune." Chris remarks.
We can hear someone yell at us... but we can't hear what they say. I wait another ten seconds and then play the tune again.

Mike comes to the door, a towel wrapped around him like Gidget just got out of the shower.
"Well hey there, gents, where the heck were you off to?" He steps back and holds the door open as he drips on the imported Italian tile in the entry way.

"We had to deal with an old acquaintance."
"Well you had us worried half to death. Show was nice though." He gives Antonelli a friendly look and then holds out his hand.
"Greetings there, friend. Name's Mike... or Theo... but only Andy calls me Theo. Name's Mike then, I guess."
"Chris."
He gives Mike a hearty handshake and Mike loses his grip on the towel. Down it goes to the floor and Mike's face turns beet red. He jumps down and grabs it, quickly wrapping it around him.
"Mikee... are you naked under that towel?" I turn and look at Lou who is just as surprised as I am.
"Well, I, uh... we... she wanted to use the hot tub and we couldn't very well let her be in there naked by herself." He sees Lou's temperature rising. "That's not quite what I mean. What I mean is... "
"You are in that hot tub with my date, Mike?"
"Andy is in there right now with her. I am in here with you fellas."
Lou yanks his towel off and as Mike backs up trying to cover himself, Lou spins it up and snaps him with it before marching out onto the balcony where the spacious Jacuzzi spa is bubbling away.
Andy is on the far side of tub... as far away from Holly as he can get without climbing out. He looks uncomfortable, like he is sitting in a pile of Clydesdale shit. Holly on the other hand is standing, her ample breasts floating in the water ahead of her... nipples aimed at Andy like a couple of deck guns on the Battleship Missouri. I think she is having fun with Andy's comfort level.
"What is going on here?" Lou's voice makes Andy jolt and he slumps down so even his neck is under water.
"Nothing is going on. Where the hell have you been?"
"Are you naked in there, Andrew?" Lou is just having fun with him now.
"Why? You aren't one of those Navy boys, are you?"

Holly turns and gives Lou a big smile, then reaches out with her arms wide and grabs him around the neck for a big kiss. Seconds later he is in the Jacuzzi and Holly is stripping him.
"Oh, for Christ's sake." Andy turns away and looks at the view of the strip. He is trapped by his modesty.

I turn to Chris, "Drink?"
He nods and we walk over to the bar. Mike is shivering a bit, towel wrapped around his waist, standing by the bar.
"You might as well get back in there. Andy won't have anyone to talk to now."

An hour later the scene has completely changed. Holly called her friends at the Crazy Horse II and four of them showed up with very little clothing or inhibition. I called down to the front desk and inquired about a discrete person to come up and tend bar. They reassured me that our suite comes with a full staff and that they would have someone up there immediately.
Her name is Rachel, great smile and attitude. Doesn't seem to mind the nudity and sex going on, and she makes any drink you can think of, and a few that you can't.

The girls from the Crazy Horse are a fun bunch. As soon as they had stepped through the door their clothes were off and their little butts jiggled their way to the Jacuzzi and they stepped in, adding to Andy's embarrassment and the red in Mike's face. Lou was surrounded. The boy's stayed at the far end, trying to not look directly at the beautiful living nude sculptures writhing over Lou like Japanese Coi fish at feeding time. But it was too late. They spotted the boys and got a missle lock on the both of them.

"Hey... " I shout from the bar where Chris and I are finishing off a couple of "Widowmakers", a Rachel specialty.
"What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas."
"Amen to that, brother." Chris raises his glass and we both toast and guzzle down the blue beverage. Chris holds his glass up for another. "What's in this?"
Rachel grabs the hi-ball glass and gives it a quick wash and towel dry. "It's faster to tell you what isn't in it."

We end up in the bubbling, steamy water with the party. The girls show great interest in Antonelli's prosthetic lower leg and foot. It looks pretty real. Same size and girth of his other calf, ankle, and foot. He sits on the side of the Jacuzzi and lets the girls touch it. He even wiggles his toes for them.
"How fast can you do that, sailor?" One of them asks as she sinks his foot and straddles it.
"Twice as fast and all night long." Antonelli tells her, sinking down in the water.

Another round of drinks comes our way. Andy and Mike warm up to their respective lady friends. Mike makes the announcement that they are married. Then Andy makes the announcement that they aren't married to each other. The girls don't seem to mind. They know the code of the desert. But if these guys don't want to fuck, then they won't fuck. That is more like being at work anyway. I get the feeling by their attitudes that they are just happy to be at a party and on a balcony high up over the strip.

At one point in time I can see Lou wink at me through the steam. I have a girl in my lap... I don't know her name but she seems to respond to Sweetie just fine. She is locked onto me like a remora. Lou's Holly surfaces from under the water for a little air before returning to the depths.
Antonelli has a girl on each side of him. He alternates whispering in their ears, coaxing a giggle from one and then the other. Apparently they agree to his request and start in on a long kiss between them.
Mike and Andy have the last girl between them. I get the feeling that this girl is from Minnesota as well because she hasn't stopped talking to Mike since she got into the Jacuzzi. Andy has one arm resting on the edge of the pool, and the other hand is under the water. It isn't until little Miss Viking moves a little to give him better access that I gather what he is doing. To my amazement I see a nod of acknowledgment. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.

A while later, when everyone is done playing we are out of the water and gazing at the view from the balcony. A couple of the girls are leaning on the rail, looking out over the lights below. Their perfect behinds a better view than what lies beyond.

"You missed a great show, fellas. That circus show was something else... like it was out of this world what they can do on those stages."
"Pretty amazing." Andy adds.
"Yeah, well... we didn't plan on missing it. We had no choice."
I go on to tell them the PG rated version of what happened. Since both Andy and Mike know who Justin is, I didn't tell him that his hams are now well done and that he would tip over if you stood him up. I just told them that there was a big fight out in the desert and that Antonelli came to our rescue.

"We had a little excitement here as well." Andy nudges Mike, "tell them what happened, Theo."
"Oh, some guy reached over while I was watching the show and took some of our caviar that Holly had ordered for us."
"Wow... that is exciting?" I don't get it.
"Well, it wasn't more than a minute later that the guy collapsed and they hauled him out of there."
"No shit."
"Yeah shit... he took one of the crackers off my plate and ate it. I had seasoned up those fish eggs just a little with just a little of this little vial of Asian spice I keep. I'm thinking that he might not have been expecting that. Hauled him out of there on a stretcher... stopped the show for a moment and everything."
"No shit."
"A hundred and fifty dollar an ounce Beluga Caviar and Theo isn't satisfied with the taste." Andy tisks.
"Now come on Andy, you know you liked it better after I spiced it up. You said so yourself."
"I didn't say it was bad... did I? I liked it. I don't think that other guy liked it."

And so the night progresses. The ladies stay over. Chris takes two of them and pushes the huge sectional sofas together and makes a play pen for himself. I take the one that has been with me all night long, and Lou takes Holly.
The boys are satisfied with the little grab and tickle they had with Miss Minnesota, and retire to their room in the suite. Now Miss Minnesota is all alone and we coax her into our room where she spends a little time on each mattress before the light of the new day shines through the draperies.

Today our adventure will continue. Chris has offered his father's private jet to take us where we want to go. We will get as close to Modoc as we can and get Mitch out of hot water. We will say goodbye to our new friends. Over breakfast we find out that the caviar thief had an allergic reaction to the stolen morsel. He was fine when he left the hospital but was hit buy a bus waiting for a cab. He was pronounced dead at the scene.
I make arrangements to pick up my motorcycle from the Bellagio when I return. Through the concierge I am put in contact with a local Ham radio club and give them a message and a frequency to send to the store in Nogales. I tell Jerry that we are alright, that Naomi is awaiting parts at Rocky Point on the Sea of Cortez. We should only be a couple of days in Modoc, then it's back to the jungle.

The Long Ride

I come to between a couple of the wrestler's buddies. The guy that Lou tossed in the desert lands a blow to his mid-section.

"Check around his neck. He had them in a pouch around his neck." Justin picks at his teeth with an ivory toothpick that he pulled from an ornate holder in his pocket.

The wrestler puts a hold on Lou and one of the other guys yanks open his shirt, buttons flying, and reveals the small leather pouch.
Justin steps up and yanks it from his neck and smiles, "What is yours is mine again, my friend."

He opens the pouch and then his smile goes flat. He pours out the contents into his hands. It is just a pile of black pea sized pebbles.
I am just as surprised as the hostage.
"Where are the stones?"
Lou coughs and spits a little blood. He looks at Justin with enough hatred to cause an involuntary bowel movement... but Justin doesn't flinch. He nods at the wrestler who lines up Lou for another flurry of blows.

"WAIT... " I interject, not wanting to see Lou have anything else ruptured.
Justin looks at me.

"He hasn't had that pouch off his neck except when you took it from him. Those diamonds were in there the whole time. When he took it off you in the desert he didn't even look inside, just put it back around his neck and that was that."
Lou nods, trying to get his wind back.

"That is bullshit, my friend, total bullshit." The hostage tries to say it with conviction, but there is and unaswered question in there somewhere.
He stops and there is an awkward silence. Even his men start to get a little jittery.
"I took the stones from you at the beach and then hitched a ride with the marina guy's wife."
He says to himself, now turned toward the mirror but avoids looking at his reflection.
"I did fall asleep for a few moments on that trip, but she wouldn't have done anything... she didn't stop the car, she had to drive."

He pounds his fists on the porcelin, "The men in that border town... they must have slipped me something." He spins quickly and looks at his men who jump at the movement.
"Put them in the car."

The hostage disappears and his cronies yank us out of the men's room and start to take us away toward the side valet exit.

Lou protests..."Hey, I paid big money to watch that show and I have a piece of ass in there that any of you guys would die for."
They yank Lou out of the door that leads out toward the valet parking. I am shoved through the door as well.

A silver stretch Lincoln screeches to a halt and in front of us and we are shown the floor. I have a foot planted on my neck so I make no attempt to resist. They zip tie our wrists in front of us, that and a foot on the neck and the occasional touch of cold steel to let us know that any quick moves would be our last.

We make a quick dash from the valet area and then come to a screeching hault as Justin climbs in from a side entrance to the casino.
"North on the main highway for a good twenty miles." He says into the phone set that connects the back of the limo to the driver. He looks down at us in the dark.
"Are you two going to be good?"
Lou and I both nod. We are allowed to sit up on the seats. The windows are heavily tinted. They could blow our heads off and the flash wouldn't even be seen in the next lane.

"Where are we going?" I ask the group, looking at each of them and then settling on Justin.
"You two have given me enough grief."
"We have? Is that what you call rescuing you off of that doomed ship? Grief?" Lou hisses.
"And taking you in, feeding you, giving you a ride up the Sea of Cortez?" I add.

Justin acknowledges none of these statements. He takes his phone out of his pocket and makes a quick call.
"Make it two... somewhere out of the way." He repositions in the seat, "We should be there in thirty or forty minutes. What road is it? I'll let him know." He cancels the call and then picks up the hand set and informs the driver.

"What?" He turns and looks out the small window at the traffic behind us. "There are hundreds of cars following us... it's called traffic." He hangs up and then reaches into the bar and grabs a tumbler and the Scotch.

"You know you two have caused me a lot of pain with my employers. I have heard from our sources that you actually went diving on the boat of Arturo Montoya. You know much more than you have let on, my friends. Through those same sources I have also been made aware of your relationship with Abigail. We were to do business with those stones. When she found out I didn't have them, she was going to use me for trade or kill me. I am wishing now that she would have done the latter.
"Us too." Lou tells him.
Justin nods at the closest henchman and he backhands Lou to shut him up, drawing a very unfriendly expression.
"My employers want those stones back... but since I most likely lost them I can't very well tell them that. What I can tell them is that you two had them and fenced them off somewhere while in Central America. You would have had enough time for that." He nods at the thought of it. "Yes, and then we tracked you down and the cash you had traded for was taken from you while you were in a drunken stupor." Another nod as he threads the fabric of his tale.

"That's your story?" It doesn't sound all that airtight to me unless he works for Larry, Curly, or Moe.
"They are going to want to see some heads roll... so they might as well be yours."

We ride in silence after that little statement. After all we have been through in the last several weeks, I guess I expect Lou to be working on some plan to get us out of here. After a while he speaks.

"I should have killed you the first time that thought crossed my mind."

Justin smiles weakly, "Come now, Lou... I really don't think that you would have gotten all that far." He leans forward, "I have training in three different Martial Arts... black belts. I would have mopped the floor with you."

Lou grunts, "Thats all you're good for, Nancy... mopping floors."
Another nod, another backhand.
"I'm gonna kill you right after I kill Nancy." Lou spits blood onto the plush carpeting of the limo.

We ride for what seems like an hour. I am looking at all of these guys. They are all strapped, but hell... they could be carrying butter knives when we are shackled like this. I am hoping that Lou makes good on his promise without dying in the process. That would give us more of a fighting chance. If it means we are going down, then I am all for going down fighting.

The road gets bumpy... then washboard. After about five minutes of this thrashing we turn off and stop behind the back of another car. We are forced out of the limo at gunpoint, two of his goons for each of us, then the wrestler at Justin's side as we are escorted out in front of the headlights of the other car.

There are two holes, long enough to hold a body if the legs are folded underneath... but they don't seem deep enough. Two of his men are sweating through cheap suits, leaning on shovels.

"You fools... can't you do anything right?" Justin jumps down into one of the holes and he isn't even up to his knees.
"Waist deep. Those were my orders. Waist deep so the animals won't dig them up."
One of the men says something in French.
"No, you don't see any animals right now, you idiot, but there are plenty of creatures out here in the desert that would dig up a shallow grave."
He orders his bodyguard to grab the implements from his men. The wrestler begins to hand the shovels to the both of us, but Justin stops him.

"No funny business."
We each get a shovel.

"I am not digging my own fucking grave." I let my shovel drop. Lou throws his out of the hole at one of the men.
He jabs the wrestler in the ribs with his elbow and the big man draws his weapon and takes the safety off.
"I can make your last moments painless, or excrutiating." Justin motions to the shovel by his man's feet and it is kicked back into Lou's hole.

We are handed the shovels and start to dig. I can't believe that we are digging our own graves here... not the follow-up I had hoped for to the day we had yesterday. Lou and I are facing each other and I am just waiting for a signal. I am not against decapitating one of these bastards with this shovel just out of spite.
Lou leans in, "Can you take a bullet and make it to the car?"

I look at him and throw a load of desert over my back, getting it on the shoes of one of the goons. He steps back and I give Lou another look. He saw it.

We act like we don't know what is happening, but with each shovel full we move them back inch by inch, positioning them. I turn in my hole and dig out in the other direction, moving Justin and his wrestler back a few inches. It isn't much of a plan, but I have seen Lou work wonders with no plan at all. For whatever reason I don't feel like this is the end. Whatever move he makes... when he makes it, I will have his back.

Five minutes later we have moved them back a foot or two, but it doesn't matter. The plan has changed with the car that is approaching, slowly and with lights off. If they are sneaking up like this they can't be with Justin and his crew, and that makes them on our side.
I am the first to notice their approach and start talking... loudly, to Lou and then to Justin to draw his attention away. I don't want them to hear the hush of tires on sand, or the sound of the engine as it idles up. Lou looks at me like I am crazy, trying to figure out angle. He follows my eyes for a second and from our holes, which are getting deeper with every shovel full. When we bend down to grab a shovel load we can see the shadowed outline of the car as it comes... under the headlight beams that shine over the area where we are digging.

"That's enough."
I stop and look up at Justin, who has the wrestler grab the shovels from our hands.
One of the men says something in French and Justin laughs.

"He says the deeper you dig the more we have to shovel back in the hole. He also says we should kill one of you and then have the other of you bury him so we don't have to do it."

"Don't worry, we'll take care of it." The voice comes from behind them. It has a familiar timber, someone we know.

Gunfire errupts, first from the French. Pistol fire, wildly spraying into the blackness beyond the glare of the headlights. The shots are aimed beyond the limo by three or four of them. They stop and for a moment there is complete silence. Justin has moved behind his bodyguard, like a child hiding behind his mother's leg.

From the side, outside of the beams from the headlights, shotgun fire explodes from several positions, cutting down the four men that had guarded us. Instinctively we drop down below ground level, only the tops of our heads are out of the holes to witness the rescue.
Two of the men blown apart by the shotgun blasts return fire until they pass out and continue to die. Another round of buckshot and they don't have to work at it.

"WHO ARE YOU?"
Justin screams into the blackness beyond the headlights just as his wrestler drops his pistol and grabs at the knife in his larynx. Another flies from beyond their field of vision and catches him higher in the neck, severing his caroted artery. He drops to his knees, a gurgling marking the effort of his last words.

Now it is only Justin... his men spread out around him, their bodies gutted by buckshot.

"You guys okay?" The voice toys with us... on the tip of tongue of recognition.
Lou looks at me, confused for a moment and then a light comes on for him. I don't get the chance to follow suit.

"I'll be damned. How in the fuck did you find us out here?"

His body blocks the light from one side of the limo as he passes in front of the car, limping as he approaches. I am still trying to pick out the voice.

Justin tries to shield the light so he can see who it is. When he finally does, he drops to his knees and begins to plead for his life.

"Hey boys, I bet you never thought you'ld see me again." Antonelli smiles widely, glad to see we were okay. From all around us his men stepped into the light, six of them, all in black and armed for war. They do not speak, but use a crued sign language between them. I know who they are... La Segunda Vida, just like Jack and his boys back at Tapia's ranch.

"We followed this prick into the desert as soon as we got the tip." Chris steps up to Justin and kicks him across the face with his good leg with enough force for a fifty yard field goal. A few teeth come out in the spray of blood.
"You don't show up in a town like Vegas and not get noticed by my people you little prick."

Chris bends down and grabs a handful of silk shirt and yanks the hostage to his feet. He has to hold him up for a moment, but he steadies himself.

"I... I thought they fed you to the sharks." Justin feels in his mouth for the damage. "You son of bitch, that was a thousand dollars worth of bridge-work you knocked... "

Chris whacks him across the face before he can finish.
"I'll do the talking, shitbag."

He motions to one of his men... a finger to his throat and then to his wrist. The soldier moves to the downed bodyguard and plants a foot on his forhead, yanking both knives from his neck. He wipes them on the man's clothing and then comes over and cuts our bonds.

Lou rubs his wrists while he walks over to Justin who is quaking in his Italian leather shoes. "How about letting me and this pup fight it out, Chris."

"What?"
"I just want the chance to school Nancy here on how to show a little respect." Lou rolls the sleeves up on his shirt. "Let's make it interesting, eh? If he beats my ass he goes free?" Lou looks to Chris, whose expression narrows.

I think we all know that Justin isn't going to go free, not if he had anything to do with Bear's death and Chris' foot being removed by a tiger shark. But Antonelli nods his approval. He signs something to one of his men and a set of car keys is tossed his way. Chris holds them up and gives them a little shake.
"Here is your getaway car." He tosses them to Justin who just stands there looking first at Chris, then to Lou.

"Are you serious?"

"You better start fighting before I change my mind."

Justin thrusts the keys in his pocket, then kicks off his shoes and begins to circle Lou as he finishes rolling up his other sleeve.

"This isn't a high school dance, mother... "

Justin removes the words from his lips with a roundhouse kick that I would assume Lou sees coming. He tries to move so the blow will glance off, but the thrust of it still whips his head around. Lou's eyes go wide for a moment, then narrow with that rabid grizzly look.

"That's the only one you get, Nancy."

Justin goes on the attack again with a flurry of kicks and punches that pass through the air in front of Lou as he backs up. When the flurry stops, Lou finds his spot and with one quick thrust he hits him in the throat. Justin's hands go up to the point of impact and Lou hits him twice in the solar plexus. The hostage drops down to his knees.

"STOP." Chris intervines, "I didn't track this prick down to have you take him out... although it is fun to watch." He motions to his boys. Two grab the wheezing hostage, another walks back out of the blaze of headlights to retrieve something from their vehicle.

Justin, with much effort, manages to regain his breathing. The blow to his throat keeps any words from forming on his lips, but he squeeks out a sound when he sees the man returning from the car.

In the man's hands is a long handled axe, the kind you would use to split oak rounds. Chris holds out a hand and the axe is planted firmly within it. Justin tries to plead, but the words are trapped within his swollen voice box.

"It was this little prick that had tortured my father when they took KOZANOSTRA. He strapped him into that chair and fried his ass." Chris grabs the hostage's jaw in his massive hand, "You should feel lucky that we couldn't find a metal chair to tie your ass in." He motions to the man that handed him the axe and he produces a butane torch. "But, you know... we don't need the chair to burn the hide off you."

What comes next is not for the faint of heart. It is hard to reason with the torture of this guy when you thought this whole time that he was a victim at first, then just a player in some bigger game. Just shooting him would have been enough for me. But not for Chris. With the revelation that he was actually the one that tortured his father, and then had ordered Chris' torture as well before escaping back to Abigail's ship.

Chris' men have drugs in a syringe at the ready to keep him from passing out. They don't bother removing his trousers, but just burn through them with the first pass of the torch. The blue tipped flame starts to char his flesh, then actually cooks his ass. They inject him when his eyes roll back and he jolts into spasms as the layer of hide and fat is burned away. Chris stops them and then let's him see the axe once more before swinging it in a long arc over his head and landing it mid-way up Justin's shin. Any whispered screams he managed to push through his damaged windpipe stop and his face is twisted in agony after the axe is withdrawn. Antonelli picks up the severed limb and then motions to his boys. They toss Justin into one of the holes we dug and then Chris shows him his leg before tossing it on top of him. Within five minutes the hole is filled with Justin still drawing breath. The whole incident lasts fifteen minutes.

Even Lou seems a little repulsed at the hostage's demise. I think he had to dole out punishement in his day that might rival this viciousness, but that was a different time under different circumstances. Somewhere inside him he knows that Nancy had it coming and that Chris was the only one to deliver death to his doorstep in such a manner. Karma is real thing.

Chris turns off his evil streak like you might turn a light switch off when you leave a room. It is hard to believe this is the same guy we saw at the Dominican Brother's compound.

"I am so glad to see you guys." He puts an arm around both of us and walks us back to his car. A few of his boys load into the other two vehicles to clear them out of the desert. We ride with Chris in the back of jet black Cadillac stretch. He opens the small refrigerator and retrieves a familiar sight.

"Muerte Verde?"

We start making our way back to civilization. This whole kidnapping and torture session took the better part of two hours, and another back to the clubs. Lou is put out that he missed the show, but is reassured by Chris that his stripper and tickets to any show he will want to see will be there when he gets back.

As the skull is passed, the story unwinds... as much as is known, in regard to the dead hostage and the diamonds. It turns out that Bear had paid for the diamonds with an extremely large sum of money that belonged to the heads of several "family" men. The stones were to be transported out of the country and then their value deposited in an in Switzerland to keep it from the feds. Justin's people provided the stones, and took the money.

"But the stones they showed my father weren't the ones that he ended up with. They switched them some how and gave my father fakes. We went back to Montoya's boat but that little prick Justin was already gone. Montoya didn't have them... looked everywhere. So we killed the fucker and sank his boat. Then Justin joined up with some woman that had her own private army. He was going to use my father's money to help her take over the coca trade after they wiped out the Dominican Brothers."

I take a shot off the skull, "What did Montoya/Menton have to do with this?"

"He was the one that brought that little fucker down to meet my father in that little seaplane. He had something to do with it."
"Oh yes he did," Lou takes a double shot, "he had those stones stashed in a satellite phone that Bear gave us with the airplane."

"No shit... you found them?" Chris' eyes get brighter.
"And that little shit lost them after he took them from Lou."
Lou smiles widely, "Well, not quite."

Fate is the Hunter

Andy has decided that the rest of his day will consist of totally undisturbed rest in his suite. He drank two thirds of that fifth of Johnny Walker Blue, and four or five other drinks to boot before we arrived at the Crazy Horse II. I don't suppose he can rightly remember the last time he got so shit-faced. But it is a good thing to base-line yourself every once in a while. It would probably do him right to smoke a fat one right now... but I think that might put a wrinkle in things.

Mike wants to go pick up the bikes after we eat. Lou is still fucked up from last night and has a phone number he is itching to call. It is from one of the girls in the "Emperor's Room".
"She was probably just talking about last night, Lou."
"No sir, she was invited to dinner and a show by yours truly. That and a little gambling... and a whole lot of fucking."
"You bet."
"You think I'm kidding?"
Lou reaches back behind him and picks up the courtesy phone.
"Can I dial a local number from this phone?"


I decide I won't focus on a possible crash and burn.
"So Mikey, where should we ride 'em?"

Mike looks up with a start... lost in thought about something. He chews a big piece of ham he had just put in his mouth. He holds a finger up to pause me.
"Gee, do you think we can ride 'em straight away?" He smiles at the thought of it.
"I don't see why not. It is like buying a new car, they give you temporary plates and probably register them and the whole bit."

He smiles and chews.... chews and smiles. "Do ya have an endorsement, Jake?"
"Endorsement? On my license?"
"Ya."
"Mikey, I don't have a license, remember? But when I did I had an endorsement. I have been riding bikes since I was a kid."

He smiles and nods and chews. His plate is a mixture of three eggs, hashbrowns, and minced sausage links that he cut up himself for the blend. It seems to have met his approval.

"By the way, Mike, we need to register them both to you, okay? I will pay you for the fees and all, but until I can get my identification straightened out it'll be in your name."
Mike stops chewing and swallows. He looks me straight in the eye and I don't blink. For a pleasant guy and all, he has something backing up that gaze of his that can take the measure of a man... or melt steel if it has to.
"Okay, Jake."

Lou actually contacts his stripper and make plans to wine and dine her. It is apparently her night off.
"You guys want to join us for dinner and the show?" He puts his hand over the receiver.
"Sure, I will." Mike is up for a little entertainment. "What show?"
"Cirque du Soleil. The show is sold out, but Holly can get tickets from her ex-husband."

I raise an eyebrow, "Oh great... she comes with an ex-husband?"
We can hear her say something to him.
"Are you going or not?"
I nod. A waitress hovers in and refills Mike's coffee. She tries mine, but I put a hand over it.
"Lou, ya better get a ticket for Andy."
Lou nods, "You better make it for five of us then."

He turns away from us and cups the phone in his hand, chuckles wickedly, then hangs up.
"All set for the second show. That should give the General time to rest."


Lou makes dinner plans, like a fucking party planner this morning. I truly don't know what has gotten into him. Those must have been some pretty nice lap dances in that private room. We let him take care of it. Mike and I are on a mission.


We make it back to Wynn's and are sent to the side office off the casino floor where we are met by a representitave from the Slot department and one from an agency that handles the paperwork for title and registration of these types of things. Mike does everything, I just sit and smile. In the end the woman from the agency holds out two keys, one in each hand.

"Should we go and get your bikes, boys?"
I think I hear Mike actually giggle. We both stand, Mike knocks his chair back and over.
"Excited, are we?" She hands us both a key.
Mike checks the little square of paper and sees that he has been handed the keys to the green one. He smiles and dangles it so I can see.
"Green one." He says with a smile.

In the garage, the two bikes are sitting there like it is Christmas or something. Mike walks up to his like he is approaching a deer in the woods... like it might bolt and run away when it notices him. He lays a hand on it, slowly, then runs his hand down the length of the seat.
"Oh my."
"Beautiful machine, isn't it?" I ask him.
"I... I can't believe it's mine."

The one I get is black as the night. It is a Heritage Classic... probably on that carousel for a few years because I don't even think they offer that model any more. I put a leg over her and settle in. Mike is still admiring his green beauty. He hands his disposable camera to the woman.

"Could ya take a picture of us on the bikes, Ma'am?"
She takes the camera and waits for Mike to get on his. Then, when we are both looking at her, she snaps a quick picture. Well, several at Mikey's request. He strikes a few poses. The last one is of the two of us in front of the bikes.

"Thank you, Jake. I would have never been able to get one of these if I hadn't won it. The wife... she won't say bupkiss about this bike now."
"My pleasure, Mikey."

Our little agency girl wishes us well and departs, leaving us in the garage. The casino had two helmets for us, and they fit... well Mike's fit. Mine is a little snug, but I can't complain.

We head out of the garage and down the strip. Mike tries to ride next to me and I have to ask him at the first stop sign if he had ever ridden before. He tells me that he had a few Japanese bikes and he knew his way around them. I am leary of letting someone share a lane with me but Mike seems responsible enough. We head down the boulevard like a couple of long time riders... stopping side by side. Mike hits his throttle every once in a while, so do I. You can't beat the sound of that big twin. This thing rides like a dream.

A while later we are going over Hoover Dam. It is hotter than hell and I signal to Mike that we should pull off at the parking lot. He follows me in and we park in a couple of spots.

"Oh ya, this is the ticket, eh Jake?"
"You got that right, Mikey. Let's get something cold to drink."
We settle on a couple of iced teas and walk out on the dam. I had heard of this dam my whole life but never stepped foot on it. From the road it didn't seem like the marvel it was, but I am sure at the bottom looking up it is really something.

We make the dam our turnaround point and head back to Casino Row. Traffic gets thick for a while there and we can't enjoy the ride. A mountain road would be the ticket... but that is not to be for this trip. It takes us a couple of hours before we make it back to the Bellagio and meet up with Lou.

We find the old boy in a suit and tie. He looks like James fucking Bond for all intents and purposes. When we walk into the room he says nothing but points to a two piece suit with shirt, tie, and shoes hanging over the doorway to the bathroom.
"Get dressed."
He has a suit picked out for me, probably called down to one of the shops on the promenade. It is blue-grey and pin striped. I take the suit coat off the hanger and try it on. It fits like it is made for me.
"Nice."
He looks at me. "Try on the pants."
I take them off the hanger and step into the bathroom to try them on. When I emerge I am in a two piece over my Mexico linens.
"Looks good." Lou reports. "There are shoes in the box there." He points to the closet where I spy a box with two black shoes.

I put the shoes on and give an approving look. He did well sizing me up. Everything is nearly perfect.
Mike looks at the two of us.
"I don't have anything like that with me, fellas."
Lou smiles, "You do now, Mike... check your room. If any of it doesn't fit, let me know. I bought it all downstairs."

Mike leaves us to seek out his new wardrobe. I walk in front of the mirror and do a half spin, it looks good.
"What did you do, look at my labels when I wasn't looking?"
"No, Jake, I just know a man's size when I look at 'em."
"That kind of freaks me out, Lou."
"What ever."

I doze off in the suite, not being able to cheat my way out of sleep at my age. When I come too it is by Lou's prompting that we were going to be late for dinner. He is dressed to the nines and is impatient to meet his stripper.

"Will you stop calling her that, her name is Holly, asshole."
"Holly Asshole? What kind of name is Asshole... German?"
He could either gut me right now, or wait until I was sleeping. With Lou any comment like that better end with an apology.
"Sorry, buddy, I am just kidding."
That admission did little to calm him.
"I ought to gut you right now... but I'll save that for a more momentus occassion."
"Why thank you, kind sir."
"Fuck you."
"Indeed."

An hour later we are still standing in Andy and Mikey's suite waiting on Andy.
"Come on, princess, you probably look better than anyone expects you to."
Andy turns the fan off in the bathroom, pre-empting his exit, then opens the door and steps out. It is the first time we have seen him without one of his Airforce ballcaps. He looks quite dapper in the suit that Lou sized up for him.
"You did good, Marine."
"Who told you I was a Marine?"
"I can pick you guys out in a Kansas City thunderstorm."
"Hoorah."

We all end up in Le Cirque for dinner. Lou's date is something of a miracle among strippers. Not that Lou would select those qualities. Tits and ass and a williingness to do most things for a few bucks are his qualifications for a good date. Me, I see the intelligence of this woman within the first few minutes we are introduced.

Holly is working her way through college as a Psychology major, doing her time in a few brothels for perspective, a few strip clubs to broaden her experience. She sees what I see in Lou... a lot more than meets the eye. Don't get me wrong... he still means to fuck her, but it is what happens along that path that makes him special.

We have a nice dinner. It starts with a little yellow tail tuna and caviar, and some scallops in a fancy sauce. Mike can pick out every ingredient... I don't give a shit as long as it tastes good.

Lou' date orders the duck, Lou the only beef dish they have. I order the sea bass. Both Mike and Andy order the butter-poached lobster. It is a fine dinner with more than anyone could expect with a meal.

The conversation, all generated from Holly, is politically motivated... her concerns with local regulations concerning her livelihood. At first we all participate, not falling victim to the constant onslaught of cocktails delivered to the table. Before long, however, we are a little numb, with the exception of Holly, who is red hot and hot to trot over her conviction to her trade.

We end up walking thru the casino, making our way to the showroom. I collide with a large guy, apologizing for my mistake... waving a hand of submission for my intrusion of bumping into him. I don't see him turn and follow me. Nor do I see him joined by three others... all of them following us with a purpose.

We make our way to the showroom about thirty minutes prior to showtime. Lou tips the host and we are on our way up front. I pay no attention to the man I bumped into, or his three friends that we left milling about at the entrance.

Alcohol and good times do a lot to mask any memory of danger or bad times. I had nothing to go on to warn me of any peril I might be in when I excused myself to go to the men's room. By the time I make it to the can, I am surrounded by people who have a problem with me.
It is only when Lou comes into the men's room that I realize who these guys are. Lou had thought I had been gone a little longer than usual and came to see what was up. The man I had bumped into and his buddies had me pinned to the wall when Lou stepped into the men's room.

"What the fuck is going on here?" Lou has both hands at his side... at the ready come what may.
"Lou, my friend."
The voice comes from behind my position where I am being held to the tile wall next to the sinks.
"I thought I might never see you again. Fate is the hunter, my friend."
Lou looks at me for recognition... yes I know who it is as well.
Justin Zilgen steps out of the handicap stall and smiles.
"I never thought that I would see you here... that I would get what was mine. I honestly thought it was lost, that I would be killed for my loss of those stones."

That is the last thing I hear before I am pounded on the head and black out. Both Lou and I have walked into a trap that might be the end for he both of us.

They Called Him the Streak

Andy streaking out of the strip club. It is Lady's Night and he is drunk off his ass.















It is hot out... even at night on the Las Vegas strip. It's no wonder they had to build Hoover Dam. With a billion light bulbs, and twenty air conditioners the size of a three bedroom house parked on every one of these casino/hotels, the meter on this town must be moving faster than the speed of light.


We walk for a bit, Lou leading the way. I feel like a passenger on a train to nowhere, with a demon in the engine and the devil switching the tracks.
"Hey... where are we going?"
Nothing. He just keeps marching. I look behind us and see that we have lost the boys.
"Lou... wait for a second. Andy and Mike, I think we lost them."

He stops for a moment and turns in wide circles, like a ferrel cat that is ready to fight.


I start back through the small crowd of people that are walking the block and I see the both of them, each holding two plastic cups.

"Hey... " I call to them.

Mike walks up and extends one of the cups my way.
"Sorry, Andy wanted to buy us a round from that slushy vendor back there." He nods back over his shoulder to a hole in the wall. "I hope you like Rum Runners."


I nod and take the drink. Andy walks on by and approaches Lou.
"He is in a hell of a mood." I look at the bronze beverage in the plastic cup.
"Oh ya, bein' thrown out of that club and all. Louis is pretty upset, eh?"
"No more than he would be than if you called him Louis to his face."
Mike nods.
"No, I mean don't call him Louis."
He nods again.
"Forget it."

I take a long draw off of the slushy, icy drink. It is cold and a welcome addition... and it is packing it's own heat, if you know what I mean.
"Jesus, that is a drink."
"Ya, Rum Runner... I thought I told ya."


Andy got Lou to stop walking in circles, and for whatever reason the Rum Runner seemed to work in the opposite fashion than the whiskey had. By the time we catch up to them, Lou is in a much better mood, joking with Andy... putting his hand on his shoulder when he talks to him.

"Wow, these must have a little makumba in them."
"Nope, I think it's just rum."
"No, makumba is magic... some say black magic."
"You don't say."

We walk toward the Venetian and Lou and Andy veer off toward the entrance. The Venetian is a monsterous casino patterned after Venice... with canals, old world charm, traveling minstrels, and the Piazza San Marco. When we walk in, I notice the ceiling is painted like that of the old churches that I used to see on the Discovery Channel when I was near enough to civilization to see television.

Andy and Lou are on a mission. They have conspired on an objective and whatever that plan is, Mike and I are only following along at this point.

"This here is really something." Mike stops and pulls the disposable camera out of his pocket.
"Take my picture here in this lobby, Jake."
The boys walk off and around the corner... no sense in worrying about them. We'll find them quick enough.
"Sure, Mike." I set my drink and chip bucket down and take his camera to get a couple of shots for him. One of which he insists on me laying on my back so he can have his face and the painted ceiling in the shot. It's okay... I don't mind.


We walk over the canals and that is the second stop we make. Mike wants to ride in the boat. He is kind of funny, this innocense he has about this shit. I am sure that the gondoleer either thinks we are "together", or that Mike is "special". Fuck him... he can row the fucking boat and shut the fuck up. If Mike wants to ride the gondola, he rides the gondola.

"Oh... man this is somethin', eh Jake?"
"Yeah, it's pretty nice."
Just then, we pass a boat going the other way and the gondoleer is singing for his romantic couple. I guess he shames our guy into it... or maybe he was just getting ready. He starts singing, a real falsetto voice. Almost makes you laugh it is so high. But he is doing his thing, and on top of it he is singing to two guys on a romantic ride down the canal. Mike just keeps snapping pictures; one of the gondoleer mid-song, one of he and the gondoleer, one of the other boat as it passes. It is nice to see someone having fun, not posing, not giving a fuck what anyone else thinks or sees. Fuck 'em.


We end up a ways from where we started. I am feeling that Rum Runner. It feels lonely. I am deciding what to throw in there alongside it when Mike spots Andy on a blackjack table.
"Hey, there's Andy." He points to a table off in one corner, no one else but Andy and the dealer.



The two of us walk over and when we approach the table the pit boss steps up to us.


"I'm sorry gentlemen, this is a private game. I am sure you will find your luck at any number of our other table games in the casino."
Andy hears him and his eyes cut to us, then back to the dealer.
"They're with me."


Andy is on a one hundred dollar minimum table, single deck. The single deck is a rarity.
"Hit me."
Dealer slaps a card down, an eight of clubs.
Andy motions for another hit. A three of hearts. He tucks his cards.
The dealer flips over his hold card and pairs up two black kings. He turns Andy's hold cards, a three and seven of diamonds.

"Hey, Andy... you won." Mike tells him.
The dealer pulls a stack of color out of his tray and cuts them over the top of Andy's bet.
"Jesus, Andy, those are five hundred dollar chips." Mike tells him.
"Theo, I know what they are. I am the one who put them out there in the first place."
He tisks.

We watch as he takes about five grand and puts it in the betting circle. Mike's breath draws in quick at the size of the wager and the cards come out.


Andy watches as the dealer lays his final card face up... an Ace of diamonds. Andy lifts his cards so only he can see what he has and then sets them down again. The dealer asks if he wants insurance. He shakes his head slightly and then slumps.

"You guys have something else to do?"
Mike's smile goes flat.
"I mean, right now... if you don't mind."
"Oh, sure Andy, whatever you say."

We walk away from the table, over to the end of the closed pit he is sitting in, and then turn to see the result of the hand. Andy flips his cards and puts one next to the other. Then he pulls a stack of chips off his rail and matches his bet.
"Well, he is either splitting or doubling down." I tell Mike.
"What?"
"Just watch."
The dealer pulls the two cards up to the bet line and then moves the stack of chips. He then

lays a card down and Andy waves him off to the next hand, where he takes two cards and stops.
"Must have had two Aces and split 'em. Aces and eights, you always split Aces and eights."
"Okay then."

We watch as the dealer flips his hold card and then hits the hand twice.
"Had six or under."
Mike looks at me and then back at the game. The dealer is paying out on both of Andy's hands. when the payout is over, Andy flips a chip his way and then colors up.

"You know how to play blackjack, don't ya."
"I've played a bit."
"Not me, no sir. I stick with the one armed bandits. At least it doesn't require much thought, ya know? You can just sit and play and not worry about making a mistake."
"Hey, Mikey, to each his own."


Andy walks up to the two of us with a bit of a smirk on his face. "Well, that was a quick twenty grand."
"No foolin', Andy, you just won twenty thousand dollars?" Mike's smile is back.
"Well, Theo, not just on that hand alone, but that hand and the first two I played. I'm done."
He looks passed us and then scans the casino.
"Where's Lou?"
I look along with him, focusing on the dice pit. No Lou.
"We were hoping you would know. We thought you two were hatching a plan."
"Nope."
"So you came to this table and Lou went... ?"
"He went toward the Baccarat Room."

We start walking. I am hoping Lou' mood has improved. If there was enough time in the day and his mood stayed where is was a while ago I have no doubt that he could be ejected from every club on the strip.

Lou is not at the Baccarat table, but he is talking with a pit boss at the adjoining High Limit tables. He shakes the man's hand and then turns and sees us approaching.

"Hey boys."
"What's up? We thought you were playing Baccarat."
"No... hell no. That game is for sissies. No, I was asking that gentleman where there might be a nice titty show."
"A titty show?"
"Andy wants to see titties, I aim to show him titties."
I take in a breath to talk.
"Don't say it... don't." He holds up a finger.
I let out my breath and let the moment pass.



We end up back in a cab, cashed up and chipless. I had won about forty-two hundred dollars from Lou's thirteen passes. He picked up just shy of thirteen grand. Not bad for twenty minutes time. Andy is up twenty from the Venetian, and almost two grand from Wynn's. And then there is Mikey, who has a new Harley and seems quite content. I still can't believe he is giving one to me.

Our driver is from Haiti and is talking up a storm. No one can understand a word he is saying. I think they are all questions. Lou told him we were going to "Crazy Horse II"... he seems to know where it is. I did make out the words "tits" and I think "areola".

Twenty minutes later the chatty Haitian is thanking Lou profusely for the generous tip and we are on the sidewalk outside the Crazy Horse II.

"Oh ya, this is fancy, eh Andy?"
"I need another whiskey." Andy starts inside and we all follow.

The Crazy Horse II is apparently one of the top five strip clubs in the city. I learn from a cocktail napkin that they judge them on the appearance of the club itself, the dancers' attitudes,
their attractiveness, the quality of the lapdance, the stage show, and something called the Emperor's Room. We never see the emporers room. What we do see are tits and lots of them. I bet we see at least fifty three tits in this place.

We take a table and the women start to work on us immediately.
A pretty girl heads our way and walks right up to Andy and asks him what can she get for him.
"I'll give you twenty bucks to show me those tits."
"No, sweety, your drink order... two drink minimum."
"What do you have on your top shelf for whiskey? Do you have Johnny Walker Blue?"
"You want a shot of Blue, honey?"
"Just bring me the bottle."
"Baby, you're looking at about a grand... that's without my tip."
Andy peels off eleven hundred and hands it to her.
"Well... how many glasses?"
Andy looks around the table. I am whiskeyed out. Mike shakes his head. Lou has his hand up.

I order a dirty martini... Absolut Pepper, three olives in the drink, ten ready to make the plunge after those have bit the dust. Oh yeah, shaken... not stirred.
Mike looks for a drink menu with something special.
"This isn't that kind of place, Theo." Andy tells him, "Just tell them what you want."
"What should I have."
"A lap dance."
"What's in that?"
"You are if you tip her good."
Mike's head tips to the side like a dog's would when you ask it if it wants to go for a walk.
"Hey Mikey, tell her you want a Cubra Libra." I give him a pat on the shoulder. He is drunk off his ass.
"Oh... okay, I'll have what he said."

She disappears for the moment. The dancers work their way through the onlookers, stopping for twenty dollar lap dances... making a show of it. I don't think any of these guys would want to stand up in front of a crowd right now. Once the drinks arrive, the women are coming our way.

Two hours later the whiskey is gone, Andy is gone, Lou is taking in a private show in the "Emperor's Room", and Mike and I have been lap danced by every girl in the place. At first Mike looked like someone was giving him a prostate exam. Very stiff and uncomfortable. But after the second one, and the third Cubra Libra, he loosened up and started to have fun. Before long the girls were slapping him away when he grabbed a little too much. I laugh... he is a trip.

These girls are beautiful, and were long before we started drinking.

Somewhere along the line I get up to take a piss and pass by another branch of this place that is full of women screaming to beat the band. When I go by the hostess near the entrance, she tells me that it is ladies night in that section of the club.

"Amature dancers are encouraged." She winks.
"No thanks, honey. I don't think I would ever be that drunk."
"Your friend certainly is."

I can't turn and see what she is talking about because I have to piss... now. When I come back out she is clapping along with the girls in the other room.
"He really is pretty good."

I wholey expect to see Lou in there, tanked up and down to his underwear up on stage. What I do see is a man in an Airforce cap and black socks... nothing else. He is picking up panties thrown up on stage and shooting them back into the crowd, all the while gyrating to some Tom Jones tune.

With great haste I grab Mike from the grips of his latest lapdance and then proceed to the Emporer's Room and collect Lou.
"Hey, I wasn't through in there."
"You aren't going to want to miss this."
The cheers are still coming from the other room as we walk up to the doorway. Lou looks at the sign and then looks repulsed.

"You're a sick fuck. I don't need to look at twigs and berries when I can actually touch a beaver in the other room."
"No, you idiot, look who is up on stage."
"OH... Christ." Mike whips out his camera.

Andy is just about done with his "set" and for his exit he runs around the room, like running the gauntlet with most of the women taking a slap at his ass as he passes. He goes right out of the room, passed us, and out of the entrance.
"Somebody better catch him before the cops do."
Lou is laughing too hard to do anything. Mike is busy snapping pictures from inside. So I run after him.

"GET HIS CLOTHES." I call over my shoulder.
I stop in my tracks at the souvenier counter and wave the hostess over.
"I need these." I pick up a sweat shirt and sweat pants and give her two hundred bucks.

I catch up with Andy, who is being chased back toward the club by some security guys from a place up the street.
"I got him... I have him, fellas. Everything is under control."
Andy is trying to laugh, but he is breathing too hard.
"Put these on you crazy bastard."
"Where... are... my... clothes?"

"Back in the Crazy Horse, I imagine."
"What are they doing back there?"
If his breath could ignite, we could explore the darkest cavern for hours.
"You are done, my friend."
"Where's my hat?"

When I make it back to the Crazy Horse II, there is an ambulance pulling up outside. I am imaging injury, possibly a snapped neck, but see both Lou and Mike waiting outside. Mike has an armful of clothing and an Airforce hat perched on his head. It is two thirty in the morning.

Andy is out of it as soon as the door to the cab closes. Mike heaves up about fifty dollars worth of rum out of the window to the dismay of our driver. Nothing an extra fifty bucks won't wipe off.

We all decide to meet for breakfast in the morning, at least those of us who aren't passed out. Morning comes and goes, as does early afternoon. But that is okay... it's Vegas and any time is breakfast time.

Everone seems to be fine, even Andy. Although he is looking at us through sunglasses because he has "light sensitivity" today. I think he is just trying to hide his face. I doubt that anyone in the Bellagio was at the Crazy Horse II, especially the ladies... but it could happen.

Mike is leafing throught the morning paper that was left outside his door.
"Hey... there was some old lady in that place that got hurt last night. You suppose that was why that ambulance was there?"
"What ambulance?" Andy holds his coffee cup with two hands, his elbows on the table.
"Oh my, she was overly excited during the dancing for "Ladies Night" and had a heart attack right there on the spot."
Mike looks at Andy, "It was the last act of the night."
"Yeah, so? Some old woman has a heart attack watching some guy waving his privates in her face. Bunch of freaks."
The table goes stone cold silent.
"What?" Andy sets his coffee down and reaches for the paper. There is a picture with the article of a man running out of the room. He is naked as the day he was born... but the picture is not revealing enough to keep it off page three. It all seems to be a surprise to him, and not his best side at that.

"Don't you remember? This is you, Andy. I think you might have killed her."