Vegas Vendetta

Yeah. What a pity. What a hell of a rotten waste of a truly superior human being. Be careful. Those were not the right words, were they. Hell no. Be hard. Be hard,

Hal, do your duty, and go gun down a very superior human being.

He would, of course. Because he had to. He and[ Bolan were two of a kind.

They simply did what they had to do.

Joseph Earl Sta

All this passed through his mind as he was struggling to get his swollen eyes opened, and he was thinking that, hell, he might never see again. Then he saw the pair of legs walking away from him, and he remembered where he was, and something swam up from his subconscious to make him realize that he hadn't fallen off — some bastard had drug him off.

Sta

He groaned and sat up, swaying drunkenly and wondering if he really was awake, after all. The guy perched there on the edge of the desk didn't look like anybody he knew personal, except for the expensive silk threads that a hundred guys he knew wore all the time.

Instinctively Joe's hand moved beneath his coat and came out empty. What bastard had relieved him of his hardware?

The guy at the desk was looking away from him, toward the wall, just sitting there and swinging his foot and staring off no where.

"Who the hell're you?" Sta

"I'm sorry, Mr. Sta

What the hell did he mean by that, why couldn't he talk to him? Shit, it was too hard to think about. His goddam head was throbbing and he had that sick feeling in his gut, that hungry grabby feeling of not eating anything all night and all day.

Sta

The guy wasn't saying nothing.

Sta

He just swung his foot and didn't say nothing.

"Didn't you hear me, you creep?" Joe the Monster yelled. "Where's that guy, that smart-ass? Did he turkey out?"

Very quietly, the guy told him, "That's old history, Mr. Sta

"What the hell d'you mean? What not talk to me? What old history?" The bewildered man lurched to his feet. "Where's my rod?" he growled.

"Pardon me, but do you always wake up this hard?" the guy asked him. He slid off the desk and walked past, then returned and said, "You look like hell, Mr. Sta

And then the bastard threw a glass of cold water in Joe Sta

"You don't wanta talk to me?" he asked, unable to accept the finality of that message.

"No sir, I'm sorry."

"What the hell is going on?"

"You know, Mr. Sta

Yeah, Sta

But… why? For God's sake, why? Shut up, Sta

"They want to see you, Mr. Sta

"Oh is that right? And where are they?"

"Well you should know."

"Don't get assy with me, boy."

"No sir, I wouldn't."

The kid was real polite. At least it was going to be dignified.

"I, uh, Christ I don't remember what's been going on, I guess. I mean I'm not woke up good yet. I was up thirty-six hours."

"Yes sir."

The guy came over and opened Joe's coat and, dropped a rod into the leather. Quietly, almost sorrowfully, he said, "I wouldn't send nobody out there naked, Mr. Sta

"Is that fuckin' thing loaded?"

"Of course it's loaded, Mr. Sta

"Well what — I mean…"

"You got a right."

"Thanks. I know you, don't I?"

"Not very well," the guy said. He was holding a big black rod in his own paw now, a silenced rod. "Goodbye, Mr. Sta

He shoved him toward the door. Actually shoved Joe Sta

The big man staggered into the wall and turned crazed eyes to the smirking silksuited polite bastard. He swiped at his bleeding nose with the back of his hand and growled, "Where'd you say they were, tough?"

"Same place," the guy said. "You'd better get going."

The guy popped the desk buzzer and the door swung open.

Sta

"I'd rather not say, Mr. Sta

A cold sweat broke out above Sta

He took three steps down the stairway before being struck by the eerie silence.

His head jerked around and he gawked across the railing at the deserted tables and the utter desolation of a casino without people. It seemed to Joe the Monster like a Vegas version of the last-man-on-earth.

He snapped back to Max Keno and said, "God's sake, Max, what's going on?"

"I guess you better just keep on going, Mr. Sta

The red film settled back over his eyes again and Joe Sta

Behind him, faintly, he heard Max calling out, "It's eight forty, Mr. Vinton."

Chapter Sixteen

Jackpot

Bolan-Vinton strode past Max Keno and said, "Okay, Max. On me." He started down the stairway and saw Joe the Monster in his side vision, prowling about the deserted casino.

Bolan kept his eyes front and went on down.

Max fell in behind him.

From behind the partition was coming the muted sounds of a happy party in the adjoining dining room. That was great. Bolan gri

It was going by the numbers now.

Almost. Just as he reached the casino floor, four men swept in through the lobby entrance.

One of them yelled, "Hey there!"

Bolan swung around to confront the foursome.

The Talifero brothers, Pat and Mike.

Two tagmen flanking them, ru

They were cruising toward Bolan, and they had reached about the midpoint between the door and the stairs. One step around the corner and Bolan would be out of it… very briefly.

He took a step in their direction, then swung his arm up in a dramatic sweep from the shoulder to point out Joe Sta