The first installment of a story I am working on. More will follow but I thought breaking it up would it more digestable. Also, I need a break from typing.
Foot traffic was heavy on the Strip tonight. The pimps were a’hollerin’, their hookers were tricking, the dealers were selling.
I shook my head; the junkies were buying.
Reno was pulsing. It always was. That was the point of the place. A town to get wrecked in. A town that loved a drunk, a town that loved a sucker.
The party capital of the wastes.
The murder capital of the wastes.
That’s what the postcards said anyway.
I almost chuckled at the display of human stupidity but the sound caught in my throat. I was part of it all. I had no right to judge. I was as guilty as the rest of them. If someone was looking down from above, which I sincerely doubted, I was going to be on his shitlist just like everyone else in the stinking city.
Vegas was gone. But Sin City lived on. It had just moved.
I was leaning against the wall on the corner of the Barracuda Casino, my big frame half illuminated in the stark lights above the double doors. I admit that I looked a bit of a mess but that doesn’t exactly set me apart from the rest of the saps living here. In fact I blended in more than usual. There was stubble of my cheeks and a bottle of whiskey in my hand. I was relaxing the way Reno folk do. We drink and stand still for a while. It felt good.
A big pimp poked my shoulder and I turned to look at him. He was tall, taller than me, and that’s a type of person I don’t meet very often. He must have been 6’5”. Maybe more. He was thin though and looked like he was used to beating on women not men.
I grinned.
“W’s the matter? You stupid or something?” he asked.
“Something.” I replied deadpan. He looked confused. It suited him and I guessed his face was used to the expression.
“This is my corner. You’re on my turf. Fuck off.” His voice was gruff, probably affected to scare me. It didn’t work.
“My turf now.” I knew that would piss him off but I realised that I was tired and couldn’t be bothered to deal with him in the usual fashion, so I decided to try and get rid of him before he tried to treat me like one of his bitches. A move he would regret. If he lived. “Always my turf. Ask my boss, he’s right in there.” I turned and pointed into the Barracuda, the newest but biggest Casino on the strip. His gaze followed my pointing finger and he visibly paled as the possible horror of his situation struck him.
For a moment I thought I had avoided an unnecessary confrontation. I had forgotten where I was, though. People don’t back down easy in our friendly burgh.
“Bullshit.” He said simply, “Kanino don’t hire punks. He’s the big man here. Why’d he need someone…” he was noticing my cold blue eyes and I could see memory and recognition flickering in the small peepers. “…like you.” He finished shakily.
“You know me now?” I asked calmly. He was scared now. I didn’t need to beat him to death. As long as he left soon. If anyone he knew turned up, he might try to keep some cred by taking me on.
“You ain’t him.” He responded.
Stubborn sunofabitch. When was he going to get it through his thick skull that of all the people on the strip, he had picked the worst person to fuck with, short of Kanino himself? With Kanino, the pimp might live long enough to get home but he wouldn’t leave town before the hitters arrived to cancel his ticket and the kind of hitters Kanino hired like their work and try to make it last.
I’d make it quick.
“The build, the height, the eyes, the hair colour, the guns,” I opened my coat to show him the holstered pistols and other implements of death sheathed across my torso, “the knives. You beginning see a pattern here?”
The pimp considered this with the slow scrutiny of someone who is very stupid and always tries hard not to be seen as such. And always fails.
I really hoped he would put the details together and fuck off.
I was 6’3”, 210lbs or there abouts, had blond hair, blue eyes and I was carrying a shitload of hardware. Who else was I going to be if not the now famed ‘Blue Eyed Devil’, Kanino’s Number 1 enforcer. For fuck’s sake, I hadn’t met a single person who didn’t guess my identity in the last six months and those weren't the quietest months of my life either. I'd met a lot of people.
Reno knew me. Everyone who lived here knew of me. Except this punk.
Now he knew.
“Mr…Dukane. The Devil?” His voice was cracking slightly.
I nodded helpfully.
“Get lost.” I said forcefully and he complied.
Another happy encounter in our fair city.
_____________________________________________
“Duke!” Hardy’s voice boomed across the gaming floor and I turned to see the smartly dressed Pitboss moving toward me.
‘Duke’ was a charming, if unimaginative nickname that had stuck. It was of course derived from my surname. ‘Dukane’ has two syllables and was tough for some of the locals. As the new name was in the interest of the public good, I didn’t mind being called ‘Duke’. It beat ‘Blue Eyed Devil’ hands down.
Hardy was walking fast, not enough to attract attention but damn sight quicker than he moved when I wanted something. I figured the boss wanted to see me. This was supposed to be my night off but then Kanino still thought I was joking about that.
“What does he want now?” I asked wearily. Hardy placed a hand on my shoulder and I resisted the urge to break his hand. Working with violence every day get to after a while, I guess.
“It’s not the boss. Can I talk with you for minute, Duke?” My eyes flicked to his big hand and he quickly removed it. “We can chat in my office.”
“You need a favour?” I asked, still remaining still. Hardy was playing an angle. He was always planning something so I had to be careful. Kanino didn’t like being cut out of the action. That was why he ran the Barracuda and everyone was afraid of him. Well actually it was how he cut himself into the action that scared people. Lots of blood and pain was involved most of the time. I knew. I had to spill the blood and inflict the pain on more than one occasion.
Everyone needs a job.
“Just come to my office. We can talk there in peace.”
“Subtle.” I said.
I had nothing to do except rest and have a good time, so I figured what the hell and followed the big guy to his office. Sometimes I wonder if I’m a workaholic. In my profession I feared that suggested serious psychosis.
I had to smile. If I said the word ‘psychosis’ to almost anyone in Reno, they’d figure I was a nutjob and just babbling incoherently. Education wasn’t a big priority in the wastes.
I finished the dregs of my whiskey. It was good stuff that I had been sampling occasionally. I wished I could have drunk the whole bottle again but reality hit that desire over the head. I deposited the empty bottle on the bar as we passed it on the way to Hardy’s office.
My thumbs were hooked into my pockets, ready to sweep my coat aside and draw but I didn’t really expect Hardy to whack me, especially not in his office. If he wanted me dead, he’d hire a bunch of punks to mow me down with automatic weapons. Loud and messy but it would get the job done and would end up untraceable. Put down as one more gang shooting. Not many tears would be shed for me but I wasn’t too broken up about that. I wasn’t out here to make friends.
“Right.” Hardy said, settling into his chair. “Take a seat, Duke.” I complied and lowered myself carefully into an overstuffed armchair that sat across Hardy’s desk. I knew from past experience that the chair’s comfort was a double-edged sword. I was nice to sit in, but damn hard to get out of in a hurry. I’d seen two men die easily because of it. Two men who you wouldn’t expect to go down easy. A double-tap to the head of a target who isn’t as mobile as normal is a nice clean hit. Just the sort Hardy would use. The plastic back wall was gone now and Hardy didn’t handle jobs like that anymore, which is why I thought I was reasonably safe. But thinking and knowing are two different things.
“What do you want Mike?” I used a bored, tired tone. “It’s my day off. Kanino gives me enough to do the rest of the time.”
Hardy smiled.
“Not many people call me Mike anymore. Usually it’s ‘sir’.” His face hardened again.
I laughed.
“Well it would be improper for me to address you that way, Mike. I don’t work for you.” He eyed me. “You see it would make the chain of command look all screwed up. I’m Kanino’s right hand, you’re his left. Neither one does what the other tells it to do, they both obey the brain. Kanino is the brain. I don’t need to explain this to you. You’re supposed to be the smart one. You handle the business side of his business. I handle security.” I smiled again.
“Yes, well. I’m not here to give you orders, I’m here to suggest a course of action that would further the boss’ interests.”
“And your own.” I added for him.
“His interests are our interests. I shouldn’t need to explain that to you.” It was his turn to smile.
“Fair point. I meant in a more personal way. You’ve got something invested in this besides a pay rise in recognition of your initiative. Don’t bullshit me, Mike. You helped Kanino build this place. I’m a newcomer, I accept that. You get paid more than me and that’s fine. But I don’t like getting treated like a lapdog. I work for Kanino and follow his orders and also keep the peace. That is my job. I’m not a hitter for you.”
“Who said anything about a hit?” he asked, innocence sitting uncomfortably on his heavy features.
“What else would you need the ‘Blue Eyed Devil’ for? Everyone knows he’s a killer.”
“True. You have a reputation for this kind of stuff but this isn’t an ordinary job. I need someone to get information and bring it back.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. Send Roddy. I’m too busy for some bullshit intel work.”
“Rodriquez is a good operative but I feel this needs your touch.”
“What is this about Mike? What’s so important that you need me to beat some info out of someone?”
“I fear there is a potential power move planned.”
“A move against us?”
“Well not exactly. I have heard that the Southerners want to make an offer.”
“Kanino won’t take it. He hates those cowboy weirdos.”
“Precisely. They know that, so they must also know something that means the boss won’t be the boss by the time they make the offer.” Hardy shook his head, considering the possibilities.
“We talking a hit, or a coup?”
“A coup? No one here is strong enough to challenge except maybe me or even you. I’ve got cash and history here, and most of the security for is loyal to you. So the only realistic possibility is a hit but we’ve got the best security around. Since you joined us, everyone fears the Barracuda and everyone involved in our business.”
I nodded. Since the Barracuda had opened up in the refurbished and repaired ruins of the old Shark club, Kanino moved in and built his organisation up from a small time gambling ring that had operated under the other Casinos’ radar, to the biggest crime group in town. The Mordinos were piss-ants compared to Kanino’s operation. Kanino used fear and terror to run his business and it worked a hell of a lot better than Jet.
In the aftermath of the New Reno war, fresh blood moved in to snap up what they could. When the Wrights started dying of a hereditary heart condition all their fancy weapons had meant shit and the wolves had circled.
The Southerners were Cowboys. They rode big animals and wore big hats and carried revolvers all the time. They were tough and hardy people who rarely took no for an answer. They had started to make a name for themselves as good enforcers but their lack of organisation had meant they could never compete with the likes of Kanino and his breed.
Now Kanino ran most of the organised crime in Reno, and the Southerners were just another rising gang of thugs and wannabe tough-guys.
“No one been acting strangely on the staff? I’ve been out at the plant and checking the businesses off the Strip the last few days, I might have missed something.” I was worried about a coup. In Reno you always had to watch your back.
“Not that I’ve noticed.” Hardy shook his head. “The security guys have been handling everything real well. Not much trouble between them and my guys. Things have been going well. Reilly’s a competent lieutenant, you’re lucky you’ve got him.”
I nodded. Reilly was good, but that bothered me. He was the only other person I could think of who might have the balls to take on Kanino. Reilly was young, tough, good in a fight and had balls of solid brass. I liked him a lot, but like everyone carving out a living in Reno, he was ruthless. You had to be or you were history. Reilly was ruthless enough, no question. If I ever left this place, Kanino couldn’t have done better for a replacement.
I hoped he wasn’t involved.
“Yeah. He’s good. At least there’ll be someone decent handling my job while I’m dealing with this.”
“You mean you’ll check it out?” Hardy was smiling.
“Mike, someone’s threatening our boss. What else was I going to do?” I stood up and moved to the door. As I opened it I turned back to Hardy. “I’ll get back to you with what I find.”
“Thanks Duke.” He said. I waved his thanks away and left the office.
_______________________________________________
I left the Casino and made my way over to my apartment. After what happened to the Shark Club, I had decided that I didn’t want to live in the same place as my boss. He could get bodyguards for that. I was an enforcer, not a bullet catcher and I wasn’t going to get blown all to hell in another bazooka attack. Not that I saw one on the horizon, but I didn’t survive a life that had left me with a nickname like the ‘Blue Eyed Devil’ without being cautious.
I lived off the Strip and it was bit of a trek but that fact also dissuaded thieves and lazy hitters. My apartment was on the third floor of a building with no fire-escape. There was one way in and two ways out. I always kept a length of high tensile rope by the window in the main room. I could rappel down to the street outside in seconds. It was a handy backup plan but it had been less than helpful when I got drunk at home and decided I needed to test the effectiveness of the rope. I had cracked a rib in that fall. Luckily no one had found out the reason. People guessed I had come up against a tough guy who landed a lucky blow. With a sledgehammer or something.
That’s Reno for you. These things happen.
In my apartment I kept files on the major players in town as well as some of the up and comings. Most of the up and comings were deleted when Kanino got wind of them, so that folder saw a lot of turnover. I found it easily and searched for my file on the new leader of the Southern Riders. Joseph Cross was leading the crew now and he had been the shot in the arm the Riders needed. Since Cross had taken over, the gang had pulled themselves together and the other street level punks had stopped fucking with them. That was when I had taken an interest.
I had met Cross once. He was tall and lean and had a hardness about him that you rarely see in someone as young as him. He was twenty at most. This made him an anomaly as every other gang apart from the Brat Pack had leaders in their forties of older. The Riders had taken some heat when word got around that a kid was leading them but when they held their own against two combined assaults by the Northside Eagles and the Kingston Avenue Avengers, the Southern Riders had upped their profile and were nearing the big leagues. Giving bloody noses to two long standing, if middle-of-the-road gangs was no mean feat for a bunch of rednecks with six-shooters.
Still, taking on Kanino sounded way too big an operation for Cross and the Riders. They were tough and dangerous but didn’t have a powerbase big enough to support such a big move. They didn’t have the men, or equipment to mount a decent assault. It didn’t make sense. Even without Kanino around, no one was going to deal with the Riders as if they were a big time gang. They were new to the game and no more than breakfast to the sharks that lived at the top of this murky pool.
I had to do some investigating. Despite my early outburst with Hardy, I actually relished the idea of going old school on this one. I hadn’t been much more than a symbol of Kanino’s might recently. A big scary symbol who could shoot a man before his fingers brushed his gun, but a symbol none the less. I was going to hammer some information out of this town and I was going to enjoy myself.
Foot traffic was heavy on the Strip tonight. The pimps were a’hollerin’, their hookers were tricking, the dealers were selling.
I shook my head; the junkies were buying.
Reno was pulsing. It always was. That was the point of the place. A town to get wrecked in. A town that loved a drunk, a town that loved a sucker.
The party capital of the wastes.
The murder capital of the wastes.
That’s what the postcards said anyway.
I almost chuckled at the display of human stupidity but the sound caught in my throat. I was part of it all. I had no right to judge. I was as guilty as the rest of them. If someone was looking down from above, which I sincerely doubted, I was going to be on his shitlist just like everyone else in the stinking city.
Vegas was gone. But Sin City lived on. It had just moved.
I was leaning against the wall on the corner of the Barracuda Casino, my big frame half illuminated in the stark lights above the double doors. I admit that I looked a bit of a mess but that doesn’t exactly set me apart from the rest of the saps living here. In fact I blended in more than usual. There was stubble of my cheeks and a bottle of whiskey in my hand. I was relaxing the way Reno folk do. We drink and stand still for a while. It felt good.
A big pimp poked my shoulder and I turned to look at him. He was tall, taller than me, and that’s a type of person I don’t meet very often. He must have been 6’5”. Maybe more. He was thin though and looked like he was used to beating on women not men.
I grinned.
“W’s the matter? You stupid or something?” he asked.
“Something.” I replied deadpan. He looked confused. It suited him and I guessed his face was used to the expression.
“This is my corner. You’re on my turf. Fuck off.” His voice was gruff, probably affected to scare me. It didn’t work.
“My turf now.” I knew that would piss him off but I realised that I was tired and couldn’t be bothered to deal with him in the usual fashion, so I decided to try and get rid of him before he tried to treat me like one of his bitches. A move he would regret. If he lived. “Always my turf. Ask my boss, he’s right in there.” I turned and pointed into the Barracuda, the newest but biggest Casino on the strip. His gaze followed my pointing finger and he visibly paled as the possible horror of his situation struck him.
For a moment I thought I had avoided an unnecessary confrontation. I had forgotten where I was, though. People don’t back down easy in our friendly burgh.
“Bullshit.” He said simply, “Kanino don’t hire punks. He’s the big man here. Why’d he need someone…” he was noticing my cold blue eyes and I could see memory and recognition flickering in the small peepers. “…like you.” He finished shakily.
“You know me now?” I asked calmly. He was scared now. I didn’t need to beat him to death. As long as he left soon. If anyone he knew turned up, he might try to keep some cred by taking me on.
“You ain’t him.” He responded.
Stubborn sunofabitch. When was he going to get it through his thick skull that of all the people on the strip, he had picked the worst person to fuck with, short of Kanino himself? With Kanino, the pimp might live long enough to get home but he wouldn’t leave town before the hitters arrived to cancel his ticket and the kind of hitters Kanino hired like their work and try to make it last.
I’d make it quick.
“The build, the height, the eyes, the hair colour, the guns,” I opened my coat to show him the holstered pistols and other implements of death sheathed across my torso, “the knives. You beginning see a pattern here?”
The pimp considered this with the slow scrutiny of someone who is very stupid and always tries hard not to be seen as such. And always fails.
I really hoped he would put the details together and fuck off.
I was 6’3”, 210lbs or there abouts, had blond hair, blue eyes and I was carrying a shitload of hardware. Who else was I going to be if not the now famed ‘Blue Eyed Devil’, Kanino’s Number 1 enforcer. For fuck’s sake, I hadn’t met a single person who didn’t guess my identity in the last six months and those weren't the quietest months of my life either. I'd met a lot of people.
Reno knew me. Everyone who lived here knew of me. Except this punk.
Now he knew.
“Mr…Dukane. The Devil?” His voice was cracking slightly.
I nodded helpfully.
“Get lost.” I said forcefully and he complied.
Another happy encounter in our fair city.
_____________________________________________
“Duke!” Hardy’s voice boomed across the gaming floor and I turned to see the smartly dressed Pitboss moving toward me.
‘Duke’ was a charming, if unimaginative nickname that had stuck. It was of course derived from my surname. ‘Dukane’ has two syllables and was tough for some of the locals. As the new name was in the interest of the public good, I didn’t mind being called ‘Duke’. It beat ‘Blue Eyed Devil’ hands down.
Hardy was walking fast, not enough to attract attention but damn sight quicker than he moved when I wanted something. I figured the boss wanted to see me. This was supposed to be my night off but then Kanino still thought I was joking about that.
“What does he want now?” I asked wearily. Hardy placed a hand on my shoulder and I resisted the urge to break his hand. Working with violence every day get to after a while, I guess.
“It’s not the boss. Can I talk with you for minute, Duke?” My eyes flicked to his big hand and he quickly removed it. “We can chat in my office.”
“You need a favour?” I asked, still remaining still. Hardy was playing an angle. He was always planning something so I had to be careful. Kanino didn’t like being cut out of the action. That was why he ran the Barracuda and everyone was afraid of him. Well actually it was how he cut himself into the action that scared people. Lots of blood and pain was involved most of the time. I knew. I had to spill the blood and inflict the pain on more than one occasion.
Everyone needs a job.
“Just come to my office. We can talk there in peace.”
“Subtle.” I said.
I had nothing to do except rest and have a good time, so I figured what the hell and followed the big guy to his office. Sometimes I wonder if I’m a workaholic. In my profession I feared that suggested serious psychosis.
I had to smile. If I said the word ‘psychosis’ to almost anyone in Reno, they’d figure I was a nutjob and just babbling incoherently. Education wasn’t a big priority in the wastes.
I finished the dregs of my whiskey. It was good stuff that I had been sampling occasionally. I wished I could have drunk the whole bottle again but reality hit that desire over the head. I deposited the empty bottle on the bar as we passed it on the way to Hardy’s office.
My thumbs were hooked into my pockets, ready to sweep my coat aside and draw but I didn’t really expect Hardy to whack me, especially not in his office. If he wanted me dead, he’d hire a bunch of punks to mow me down with automatic weapons. Loud and messy but it would get the job done and would end up untraceable. Put down as one more gang shooting. Not many tears would be shed for me but I wasn’t too broken up about that. I wasn’t out here to make friends.
“Right.” Hardy said, settling into his chair. “Take a seat, Duke.” I complied and lowered myself carefully into an overstuffed armchair that sat across Hardy’s desk. I knew from past experience that the chair’s comfort was a double-edged sword. I was nice to sit in, but damn hard to get out of in a hurry. I’d seen two men die easily because of it. Two men who you wouldn’t expect to go down easy. A double-tap to the head of a target who isn’t as mobile as normal is a nice clean hit. Just the sort Hardy would use. The plastic back wall was gone now and Hardy didn’t handle jobs like that anymore, which is why I thought I was reasonably safe. But thinking and knowing are two different things.
“What do you want Mike?” I used a bored, tired tone. “It’s my day off. Kanino gives me enough to do the rest of the time.”
Hardy smiled.
“Not many people call me Mike anymore. Usually it’s ‘sir’.” His face hardened again.
I laughed.
“Well it would be improper for me to address you that way, Mike. I don’t work for you.” He eyed me. “You see it would make the chain of command look all screwed up. I’m Kanino’s right hand, you’re his left. Neither one does what the other tells it to do, they both obey the brain. Kanino is the brain. I don’t need to explain this to you. You’re supposed to be the smart one. You handle the business side of his business. I handle security.” I smiled again.
“Yes, well. I’m not here to give you orders, I’m here to suggest a course of action that would further the boss’ interests.”
“And your own.” I added for him.
“His interests are our interests. I shouldn’t need to explain that to you.” It was his turn to smile.
“Fair point. I meant in a more personal way. You’ve got something invested in this besides a pay rise in recognition of your initiative. Don’t bullshit me, Mike. You helped Kanino build this place. I’m a newcomer, I accept that. You get paid more than me and that’s fine. But I don’t like getting treated like a lapdog. I work for Kanino and follow his orders and also keep the peace. That is my job. I’m not a hitter for you.”
“Who said anything about a hit?” he asked, innocence sitting uncomfortably on his heavy features.
“What else would you need the ‘Blue Eyed Devil’ for? Everyone knows he’s a killer.”
“True. You have a reputation for this kind of stuff but this isn’t an ordinary job. I need someone to get information and bring it back.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. Send Roddy. I’m too busy for some bullshit intel work.”
“Rodriquez is a good operative but I feel this needs your touch.”
“What is this about Mike? What’s so important that you need me to beat some info out of someone?”
“I fear there is a potential power move planned.”
“A move against us?”
“Well not exactly. I have heard that the Southerners want to make an offer.”
“Kanino won’t take it. He hates those cowboy weirdos.”
“Precisely. They know that, so they must also know something that means the boss won’t be the boss by the time they make the offer.” Hardy shook his head, considering the possibilities.
“We talking a hit, or a coup?”
“A coup? No one here is strong enough to challenge except maybe me or even you. I’ve got cash and history here, and most of the security for is loyal to you. So the only realistic possibility is a hit but we’ve got the best security around. Since you joined us, everyone fears the Barracuda and everyone involved in our business.”
I nodded. Since the Barracuda had opened up in the refurbished and repaired ruins of the old Shark club, Kanino moved in and built his organisation up from a small time gambling ring that had operated under the other Casinos’ radar, to the biggest crime group in town. The Mordinos were piss-ants compared to Kanino’s operation. Kanino used fear and terror to run his business and it worked a hell of a lot better than Jet.
In the aftermath of the New Reno war, fresh blood moved in to snap up what they could. When the Wrights started dying of a hereditary heart condition all their fancy weapons had meant shit and the wolves had circled.
The Southerners were Cowboys. They rode big animals and wore big hats and carried revolvers all the time. They were tough and hardy people who rarely took no for an answer. They had started to make a name for themselves as good enforcers but their lack of organisation had meant they could never compete with the likes of Kanino and his breed.
Now Kanino ran most of the organised crime in Reno, and the Southerners were just another rising gang of thugs and wannabe tough-guys.
“No one been acting strangely on the staff? I’ve been out at the plant and checking the businesses off the Strip the last few days, I might have missed something.” I was worried about a coup. In Reno you always had to watch your back.
“Not that I’ve noticed.” Hardy shook his head. “The security guys have been handling everything real well. Not much trouble between them and my guys. Things have been going well. Reilly’s a competent lieutenant, you’re lucky you’ve got him.”
I nodded. Reilly was good, but that bothered me. He was the only other person I could think of who might have the balls to take on Kanino. Reilly was young, tough, good in a fight and had balls of solid brass. I liked him a lot, but like everyone carving out a living in Reno, he was ruthless. You had to be or you were history. Reilly was ruthless enough, no question. If I ever left this place, Kanino couldn’t have done better for a replacement.
I hoped he wasn’t involved.
“Yeah. He’s good. At least there’ll be someone decent handling my job while I’m dealing with this.”
“You mean you’ll check it out?” Hardy was smiling.
“Mike, someone’s threatening our boss. What else was I going to do?” I stood up and moved to the door. As I opened it I turned back to Hardy. “I’ll get back to you with what I find.”
“Thanks Duke.” He said. I waved his thanks away and left the office.
_______________________________________________
I left the Casino and made my way over to my apartment. After what happened to the Shark Club, I had decided that I didn’t want to live in the same place as my boss. He could get bodyguards for that. I was an enforcer, not a bullet catcher and I wasn’t going to get blown all to hell in another bazooka attack. Not that I saw one on the horizon, but I didn’t survive a life that had left me with a nickname like the ‘Blue Eyed Devil’ without being cautious.
I lived off the Strip and it was bit of a trek but that fact also dissuaded thieves and lazy hitters. My apartment was on the third floor of a building with no fire-escape. There was one way in and two ways out. I always kept a length of high tensile rope by the window in the main room. I could rappel down to the street outside in seconds. It was a handy backup plan but it had been less than helpful when I got drunk at home and decided I needed to test the effectiveness of the rope. I had cracked a rib in that fall. Luckily no one had found out the reason. People guessed I had come up against a tough guy who landed a lucky blow. With a sledgehammer or something.
That’s Reno for you. These things happen.
In my apartment I kept files on the major players in town as well as some of the up and comings. Most of the up and comings were deleted when Kanino got wind of them, so that folder saw a lot of turnover. I found it easily and searched for my file on the new leader of the Southern Riders. Joseph Cross was leading the crew now and he had been the shot in the arm the Riders needed. Since Cross had taken over, the gang had pulled themselves together and the other street level punks had stopped fucking with them. That was when I had taken an interest.
I had met Cross once. He was tall and lean and had a hardness about him that you rarely see in someone as young as him. He was twenty at most. This made him an anomaly as every other gang apart from the Brat Pack had leaders in their forties of older. The Riders had taken some heat when word got around that a kid was leading them but when they held their own against two combined assaults by the Northside Eagles and the Kingston Avenue Avengers, the Southern Riders had upped their profile and were nearing the big leagues. Giving bloody noses to two long standing, if middle-of-the-road gangs was no mean feat for a bunch of rednecks with six-shooters.
Still, taking on Kanino sounded way too big an operation for Cross and the Riders. They were tough and dangerous but didn’t have a powerbase big enough to support such a big move. They didn’t have the men, or equipment to mount a decent assault. It didn’t make sense. Even without Kanino around, no one was going to deal with the Riders as if they were a big time gang. They were new to the game and no more than breakfast to the sharks that lived at the top of this murky pool.
I had to do some investigating. Despite my early outburst with Hardy, I actually relished the idea of going old school on this one. I hadn’t been much more than a symbol of Kanino’s might recently. A big scary symbol who could shoot a man before his fingers brushed his gun, but a symbol none the less. I was going to hammer some information out of this town and I was going to enjoy myself.
