of thousands of slot machines was deafening. He was enthralled by the masses of silver-haired ladies yanking on the one-armed bandits. His attention was suddenly diverted by a large hand gently tapping him on the right shoulder.
“Hi, CPT Grant, you haven’t changed much, except for the hair, and you are a lot skinnier than I remember,” Guido said, as he embraced Jeremy from behind.
Jeremy turned around and looked down at Junior. Junior was about five-feet-nine, with a stocky build and seemingly no neck. His jet-black wavy hair was beginning to thin on top, but his boyish grin had not changed much. Jeremy reached over and gave him a bear hug. Guido Salvatore Fontana, the ex-Special Forces Staff Sergeant had tears in his eyes. Both men stood there for a second and pumped hands like farmers churning milk.
Guido had been Jeremy’s weapons specialist and armorer. He was by far the most skillful and deadliest soldier Jeremy had ever met. He had a natural aptitude with weapons, explosives and knives. Jeremy knew that Guido could always be depended on to carry out his mission. One of his other great attributes was his physique. He regularly pumped iron, and exercised. Four years of heavy weight lifting had molded him into a beautiful specimen of muscle and incredible strength. Guido was one of the strongest men, Jeremy had ever seen. He had developed a typical bodybuilders shape. He had huge arms, a bulging chest and no neck. Jeremy was amazed how little Guido had changed.
Jeremy stared at Junior and had flashbacks of an incident which occurred in Vietnam. His thoughts drifted to the incident, and suddenly he was there again, the flashbacks seeming more real than the actual event. They were on the way to a base camp in the Mekong Delta, just south of Saigon, when their jeep hit a land mine. The explosion was so great that it flung the jeep, and its passengers, ten feet in the air. The jeep crashed and landed on top of one of the men, pinning him underneath. Jeremy was unable to budge the vehicle until SSG Guido S. Fontana brushed himself off, grunted like a weightlifter and picked up the vehicle with a superhuman effort. Jeremy was then able to pull the injured soldier to safety, and carry him to the hospital. On another occasion, their base camp was under heavy attack and their only heavy weapon, a “Ma” Deuce (M-2) .50 caliber, air-cooled heavy machine gun had been blown up by a mortar round. SSG Fortuna ran over to the bunker physically manhandled the heavy weapon and began firing it again. The M-2 had the heavy metal base blown to bits, but Guido was able to brace the machine gun on some sandbags and with his incredible strength continued firing until the attacking forces retreated. SSG Guido S. Fontana earned his first Silver Star during this engagement. Jeremy knew of no other man that could successfully fire and control such a weapon without a gun mount.
A powerful slap on the right shoulder allowed Jeremy’s eyes to refocus. He glanced down at Guido. Junior was staring intently at Jeremy. Guido had that deep menacing look that men in combat or cold-blooded killers develop. However, he still had a smile on his face and Jeremy was unable to tell whether or not, he was angry or just brooding. It slowly dawned on Jeremy that perhaps Junior had more than a casual acquaintance with organized crime. That thought suddenly brought him back to reality, and he decided not to pursue the matter right now. He was happy to see Guido and right now that was all that mattered.
“Damn, CPT Grant, you are looking great!” Guido yelled.
“Man, am I glad you are okay! We heard all those horrible stories about you being KIA (Killed in Action), or MIA (Missing in Action), etc. Shortly after you disappeared, I was zapped in the head and ended up in the hospital at Fort Sam Houston, Texas. I have a huge silver plate in my head now. I am okay now, except for the occasional headaches. They were not able to get all of the shrapnel out, but the doctors tell me I should be all right,” Guido blurted out in one long sentence, his right hand slowly and unconsciously rubbing a large scar near his right eyebrow and right ear.
“Well, everything you heard was true. I was taken P.O.W., and eventually escaped three months later. I was picked up by chance by a Jolly Green Giant, and here I am today safe and almost sound!” Grant said, his voice trailing off in thought once again.
“Hey Jeremy, what has happened since you came home, what are you going to do? Do you have any plans? Want to work for me?” Guido said, switching to the more familiar Jeremy.
Jeremy explained the rest of the events of the past six months, and told him of Loretta, the Presidio and Travis AFB. Junior listened intently, then dragged Jeremy over to one of the many bars and bought him a double Chivas.
“Guido, you lied to me. You always said you worked here, but you never told me you owned the place! I really appreciate the offer, but right now I am on my way home, and I am not planning on doing anything for at least six more months. Besides, I’ve been able to save nearly all my pay for the past three years, and I have nearly forty grand stashed away,” answered Jeremy.
“Well, would you have believed me if I told you we owned four casinos? You know how G.I.’s are! They lie, steal and get drunk! Not only that, but for obvious reasons, I didn’t want everyone to know who I am. You know what I mean?” Guido said, a smile slowly spreading across his face. It was menacing smile, filled with veiled threats, yet genuine and sincere, a somber wake-up call to perhaps a hidden agenda.
“Anyway, that’s old news, what brings you here? I know you didn’t come all the way to Vegas just to see me. What’s cooking?”
“You are right Guido. I am on my way back home, and I decided to stop by Vegas and visit my cousins Douglas and Danny Lawyer, and at the same time say hello to you,” Grant exclaimed.
“No shit, that ‘shyster’ is your cousin? Well, I’ll be damned, what a coincidence. He is my attorney, and one of the best guys in Vegas. I knew there was something I liked about him. Why don’t you call him and we’ll have a party tonight. All three of us, and some friends,” Junior blurted out.
“Well, it sounds like a great idea. Let’s call him now and get started.
Law offices, can I help you? A young, sexy voice answered, her breath blowing air on the receiver, as if she had been running, or for that matter, being chased by someone.
“Is Dougie there? Grant inquired.
“Who did you want? Doggie? I am sorry, we don’t have anyone here by that name,” answered the secretary, somewhat irritated by the caller.
“No, not Doggie, Dougie C. Lawyer, my cousin.”
“I am terribly sorry, I misunderstood you, I’ll connect you to Mr. Lawyer,” the young secretary answered.
“Douglas Lawyer, can I help you?” he answered.
“Hey Dougie, it’s me, Jeremy; I’m here in town. We want you to join us at the Matador, and Guido is throwing a party tonight. By the way, call Danny and ask him if he wants to join us.”
“Hey, that sounds good to me, cousin. I don’t think Danny is going to make it, he is visiting my parents up in Redding. I didn’t know you guys knew each other. Where did you meet?” Dougie inquired.
“I am surprised he never told you, I was his CO in Vietnam, and we were very close,” answered Jeremy.
“Well, he probably never knew I had a crazy cousin named Jeremy Grant. Okay, let me finish up here in my office, and I’ll be right over. Where should I meet you guys?” asked Douglas, his voice trailing off.
“Hey Guido, where should Dougie meet us?” asked Jeremy.
“Tell him to come to the front desk and ask for me, they will show him the way up to my penthouse. Tell him be sure to ask for Junior,” replied Fontana.
“Doug,
