Chapter 24
Longest Night in Vegas (Part 2)
"Dinner's gonna start soon, so… just be prepared."
Cachino placed a hand on the elegant double-doors, his eyes resting on Mr. Burke's.
"You can hang around down here until dinner… or return to your booth upstairs, doesn't matter to me," Cachino told them. "But Big Sal is expecting to see you, Burky Burke… so don't disappoint."
"Of course," Mr. Burke replied formally, Sarah and Veronica both attempting a polite smile for Cachino, though neither of them completely succeeded.
Cachino gave them all a nod, turned on his heel, and marched away. Mr. Burke and his companions watched until he had vanished into the crowd, then turned to face one another.
"Well… what now?" Veronica uttered.
"Where did Bryan go?" Sarah whisper-yelled.
"Probably upstairs, if he's looking for the courier," Boone stated. "The girl and her friends got hotel suites, and they walked off with the keys. That means they probably went up to the second floor—which is where we need to go now."
"The dinner," Mr. Burke muttered, swatting at the double-doors of the private quarters. "The Omertas are expecting me to be ready to attend."
"Burke—no offense, but your cover isn't top priority right now," Boone said firmly, turning and preparing to march off. "In fact—if we play our cards right, we might be able to eliminate all the Omerta top dogs in one go tonight. We're just gonna need an extra pair of hands."
"What?" Mr. Burke exhaled, he and the girls following Boone across the room. "Who on earth would take on such a suicidal task?"
Boone let slip a coy smirk. "You mean besides me? Don't worry, I know a guy. And he made it here right on time."
The four of them left the lower-level brimstone bar, strolling down a hallway and isolating themselves in the elevator. As the elevator carried them upward, Mr. Burke, Sarah, and Veronica all gave Boone a questioning look.
"The guy refuses to go down in a fight," Boone explained. "Trust me, he's as resilient as I am. We go grab him, find you guys some weapons, and prepare to ambush the private quarters."
"It won't be long before Sandra's in there," Mr. Burke thought aloud.
"Yeah—and that's good," Boone told him. "If everything you told me about her is true, then I seriously doubt she'd walk in here without at least one holdout weapon stashed on her. We need all the numbers we can get if we're gonna ambush the Omertas all at once, and she might jump in and help us. The Omertas will be either armed or guarded. Maybe both."
"What if the courier doesn't decide to fight with us in the moment?" Veronica asked.
"She will," Mr. Burke and Sarah both stated firmly.
"And even if she doesn't—between us and Vex, we can make it work if we time it all just right," Boone informed.
"Who's Vex?" Veronica wondered.
"That's just what I call him," Boone muttered. "I can't pronounce his real name…"
The elevator doors slid open, and they all marched out, strolling down the hallways of the second floor and peeking into all the unlocked hotel suites along the way. After a while of searching, Boone rounded the corner, spotting a familiar figure down the hall.
Vulpes, Bryan, and Melody were hunched at the far corner, all of them taking turns trying to pick the lock on the corner presidential suite. ED-E beeped loudly when it noticed the presence of a new arrival, Scar perking up and squeaking up at Vulpes.
Vulpes spun around, seeing Boone, Sarah, Veronica, and Mr. Burke approaching from the opposite hall.
"Jesus… there you are," Sarah gasped with relief, yanking Bryan into a quick hug, then slapping him on the head. "Don't scare me like that."
"Oww," Bryan whined, wincing and rubbing his hairs.
Vulpes straightened up, facing Boone and meeting his eyes.
"Haven't found her yet?" Boone asked.
"No," Vulpes replied disdainfully. "We've scoured all the open rooms—now we're trying the locked ones."
"Well… we have another plan of action now," Mr. Burke told him.
Vulpes squinted at Mr. Burke. "And you are?"
"Mutual friend of the courier's," Mr. Burke replied with a slight bow. "We all have the same goal in mind, I assure you."
"Bryan!" Melody gasped happily, tugging on Bryan's sleeve and pushing the door of the presidential suite open. "Look! I got it unlocked!"
Everyone exchanged faces, then slowly inched into the suite one by one. After ED-E and Scar entered the room at their heels, Boone closed the door and locked it behind him, hoping to give them all some privacy while they spoke.
Vulpes marched in between the large TV and the master bed, peering into the bathroom before opening several of the closets, pausing once and grasping his side. Sarah and Veronica decided to join him—both of the girls liberating a couple of large knives from the kitchen and tucking them uncomfortably into their dresses. Once everyone was done searching around, they all grouped up again, glancing at one another and waiting for someone to speak.
"You said you had another plan of action," Vulpes started, eyeing them all intently. "Let's hear it. We're short on time."
"We're gonna wait until the dinner starts, and we're gonna ambush all the Omerta top dogs at once," Boone revealed. "But, since we only have one gun between all of us, we're gonna need the element of surprise."
"You have two firearms between all of us," Vulpes corrected, sliding out his silenced pistol. "But that still won't be enough for all the Omertas and their armed guards. Not to mention, even if we do succeed in killing them all, the rest of the Omertas in the facility will attack on sight the moment we leave the room."
"Um…" Melody murmured sheepishly, reaching into her jacket. "Three…"
Everyone stared at her. Vulpes squinted down at her oddly.
"Three what?" Vulpes asked.
"Three… guns," Melody replied with a childlike smile, pulling out one of Sandra's old pistols.
Vulpes's eyes shifted between her face and the pistol in her hand.
Melody giggled. "Well, they didn't search me… since I'm a little kid…"
"Nice," Bryan said proudly, patting her on the back. "Good work."
Melody's smile grew, her cheeks flushing.
"Would you mind if I used that, young lady?" Mr. Burke asked politely.
Melody handed him the pistol, and Mr. Burke swiftly slid it into the back of his suit.
"Well… all the men have guns now," Veronica chided. "That's great for you, but… me and Sarah are stuck with steak knives."
"This isn't a battle—it's an ambush," Boone announced. "Remember that. We're catching a number of armed men by surprise—and if you do your job right, you'll have their guns in your hands before they know what hit 'em."
"I have two plans in mind to deal with the low-ranking Omerta grunts all over the casino," Mr. Burke told everyone. "Before the ambush, we pull the fire alarm, which will hopefully take the crowd away from the bar in the lower brimstone—including the Omerta bouncers. And after the ambush, if we're forced to explain ourselves, we will tell the remaining Omertas that the top dogs pulled their guns on us, and we were simply acting on self-defense. I don't know if that'll be good enough for them, but it's far better than telling them the truth."
"That's the best we've got," Sarah nodded.
"You're all overlooking another problem," Vulpes stated gravely. "One you're probably not even aware of."
Everyone's eyes landed on him, waiting for him to explain.
Vulpes sighed stressfully and spoke on. "The clerk woman behind the counter in the front lobby—the one who works alongside the bouncer all day—she's an informant for the republic, and the republic has a mole leaking her information to the Legion."
"What?" Boone griped angrily, but Vulpes waved him down and continued.
"The point is—I know all about this place," Vulpes stated. "And the Omertas aren't the only ones here. They're in charge of Gomorrah, but there's another crime outfit operating from the shadows of this establishment. They have the third floor all to themselves. The syndicate."
They all fell deathly silent, trading severe expressions with one another.
Vulpes took a deep breath, folded his arms, and carried on. "The good news is, the syndicate is not a sister society to the Omertas. The two of them are merely business partners, which means the syndicate may not hold a grudge for what we do to the Omertas tonight. But the bad news is—if they do decide to hold a grudge, then all of us will probably have a price on our heads from a widely-spread crime outfit that spans all the way to New Reno. You all need to be well aware of that—and decide right now if that danger is worth the risk of our next action."
"Hmm." Mr. Burke stroked his chin thoughtfully. "I really don't think they'll hold a grudge against us, quite honestly."
At that, all of them turned and stared at him questioningly.
"Well…" Mr. Burke lowered his hand, nodding sideways. "If it was me… if I was a crooked crime lord, and if I was sharing an establishment with another crime family… quite frankly, I would be delighted if they all bit the dust at once. That would leave me with their money and their business all to myself."
"Oooh… that's a good point," Veronica nodded, jabbing a finger at him. "The syndicate would pretty much inherit Gomorrah if the Omertas disappeared."
"So they probably won't be mad at us for killing the Omertas," Sarah murmured. "Still, leaving another crime family in power… that's not good…"
"It's our best option," Boone determined. "Between the syndicate and the Omertas—only one of them is targeting the courier and trying to take over the Mojave. We need to eliminate the worse of the two evils right now."
"And if the syndicate becomes a problem later, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Mr. Burke disclosed.
"That's it, then," Vulpes concluded. "We're ready to go."
"Um." Sarah slowly raised her hand. "I'm not. No offense, but I'm really not a melee person. Veronica's a melee master, but I don't think I can pull of an ambush with nothing but a steak knife."
There was a pause. Vulpes then sighed, spun his pistol around, and handed it to Sarah.
"Oh… really?" Sarah uttered, hesitantly reaching for the gun. "Are you sure?"
Vulpes nodded.
"Vex," Boone said seriously, narrowing his eyes at him. "Are you really good for going melee right now?"
Vulpes didn't reply right away. Boone and Melody were the only people in the room who knew just how badly he was injured—and now, the girl and the sniper were both giving him a long, uncertain stare.
"Absolutely," Vulpes said flatly. "Just give me your blade, and you can use my gun. We all need to utilize our own personal skillsets if we're going to succeed."
Sarah took the pistol and stuffed it away, pulling the large knife from her dress and handing it off to Vulpes. After stashing the blade in his suit, they all met eyes, feeling a sense of finality as well as an oncoming wave of determination.
Boone and Vulpes looked to one another.
"I say we run a couple of quick drills right now," Boone suggested. "Then move in on the Omertas downstairs."
Vulpes took in a heavy breath, rolled his neck, and gave a powerful nod.
All of the unlikely companions took several stances and traded various tid-bits of advice as they rehearsed their soon-to-come attack. By the time they were finished, all of them felt a rush of confidence and adrenaline, vowing to eliminate the great danger to the Mojave before this long night's end.
Not even a full minute after Mr. Burke and his group left the lower brimstone—Sandra and her friends arrived downstairs, crossing the obnoxious crowd and approaching the rectangular bar in the center. She, Niner, and Arcade sat at the bar, ordering a quick drink and watching as a male stripper danced his heart out on one of the platforms. Sandra and Niner both snickered when they noticed Arcade's lingering stare on the performer.
Arcade noticed their sniggers, then quickly averted his eyes and shook his head, retreating into his drink. "Oh, shut up."
Sandra and Niner laughed at him.
"Well… I'm locked and loaded," Sandra whispered to her friends, patting under her chest.
"I'd like to say the same, but I'm the only one here who's gunless now," Niner grumped.
Arcade took another sip of his drink. During their time sneaking around the Omertas's private rooms, they only found one pistol, and Niner decided to give it to Arcade rather than keeping it for himself.
"You offered," Arcade reminded him. "I didn't mind letting you hold onto it."
"Yeah, well… no offense, Doc, but you need a gun more than I do. I trust myself in a fist fight way more than I'd trust you in one," Niner cackled.
Arcade opened his mouth to argue, then looked away, sighing and making a halfhearted nod. "Well, yeah, okay… you're not wrong…"
"Oh shit, heads up," Niner uttered, straightening up in his stool and spotting a few suited Omertas heading their way.
Sandra, Niner, and Arcade all braced themselves for the finale of the evening, their hearts beginning to pound as Cachino, Nero, and Clanden all surrounded them at the bar.
"Your party has begun, my dear," Cachino said kindly, patting Sandra on the back and nodding to the decorative double-doors in the corner of the giant room. "Would you care to join us? My superior can't wait to meet you."
"Oh, cool… can't wait to meet him, either," Sandra smiled and nodded, leaping from her seat alongside her friends. "What's for dinner?"
"The finest Brahmin Wellington in Vegas," Cachino smirked. "As well as a few nice amenities for sides. I'm sure you'll all enjoy it."
"Mmm," Nero mumbled, smiling coyly at Sandra and slicking back his smooth sandy hairs. He scanned her up and down, leaning a bit too close. "I know what I want for desert."
Sandra laughed it off, marching past him and feeling almost nauseated all the sudden. She, Niner, and Arcade followed the three Omertas across the room, the journey to the double-doors feeling like one of the longest walks of their life, almost as if they expected never to walk out again. The three of them traded a subtle glance before marching into the Omertas's private quarters, Cachino pulling the doors shut behind them.
This room was easily the nicest, cleanest, and most expensive room of the Gomorrah casino—it even put the dining area of the UltraLuxe to shame. Before Sandra was a dining table, coated in a white cloth and complete with several heavenly-scented dishes of food, a set of candles in the center and a crystal chandelier hanging elegantly from the ceiling above. The walls were covered with paintings of several Omerta family members—and in both far corners of the room stood two armed guards, a couple of Omerta grunts with assault rifles. In between the two guards at the head of the table, a large, smirking man sat before them all, intertwining his fingers and glimpsing upward from beneath the rim of his stylish fedora. He opened his arms, smiled wider, and gave Courier Six a welcoming nod.
"And here you are, at last," Big Sal greeted. "A new Vegas legend… heir of the Lucky 38. Our new business partner. Welcome, welcome. Make yourselves comfortable."
Sandra nodded politely, pulling out a chair and sitting at the head of the table opposite the Omerta boss. Niner and Arcade sat on each side of her, Clanden and Nero plopping down near Cachino in the middle of the table. For a moment, everything was calm and silent despite the tension looming over Sandra and her friends, the Omerta family casually passing around a large bottle of red wine and filling each of their glasses. When the bottle reached Niner, he grinned and began to upturn it, Arcade whisper-yelling at him and shaking his head. Niner sighed, poured his glass full, and passed the bottle on. After the wine was served, everyone at the table began passing around the food next—placing helpings of Brahmin Wellington and miniature calzones on each of their plates. Everyone filled their plates and began to eat, and Sandra didn't take a single sip or bite until she saw all the Omertas eating and drinking the same food and wine without hesitation. Deeming the dinner safe, she drank her whole glass of wine in a few gulps, then took a bite of the Brahmin Wellington, cooked to a tender perfection and melting savoringly in her mouth. It seemed the Omertas could afford the best of the best…
"I appreciate the welcome," Sandra spoke up, feeling as if the silence had lingered for too long.
"Oh, no… no problem," Big Sal mumbled, swallowing a mouthful and dabbing his mouth with a napkin. "Gotta welcome our new partner into the Vegas circle, now don't we?"
Sandra smiled at him, refilling her wine glass. Arcade ate slowly and cautiously while Niner did just the opposite. If not for Big Sal's ravenous appetite, Niner's savage manner of eating might've been embarrassing.
"So… now… I'm curious," Big Sal started, pushing his now empty plate away and sliding his fingers together thoughtfully. "Forgive me for prying, but I'm very genuinely curious. What circumstances landed you as Mr. House's heir?"
Sandra slowly lowered her fork, her heart jumping, her expression unreadable. She met the mobster's eyes from across the table, maintaining an unwavering composure.
"I was the courier carrying his platinum chip," Sandra told him. "When we reached the 38… I started working for him. He ended up trusting me. That's all."
"Really," Big Sal murmured interestingly, gliding his finger along the rim of his wine glass. "Interesting that he passed away so shortly after bringing an outsider inside."
"That's why he brought an outsider inside," Sandra lied cleverly, taking another nonchalant sip of wine. "He was sick, and he knew he was gonna die soon… so, he decided to name an heir. But he had to get to know me first. Build a foundation of trust, and all that."
"Ah, I see… makes much more sense now," Big Sal nodded, his eyes shifting between Niner and Arcade. "And, forgive my intrusion, but… what purpose do these two serve to you?"
Niner blinked and perked up, a trickle of grease oozing down his chin as he swallowed another huge mouthful. Arcade simply pretended not to have heard anything.
"My advisor and my bodyguard," Sandra informed, motioning to each of them. "They're just as important to the operation as I am."
Big Sal slowly nodded, falling momentarily silent.
"Jesus, dude," Nero griped, snatching the steak sauce away from Cachino. "Cachino, you fat fuck—save some for the rest of us."
Upon hearing the name Cachino, Niner slowly stopped chewing, his eyes sparkling an angry emerald. He turned his head, eyeing Cachino down the table and fuming in silence.
Sandra noticed Niner's furious glare, then quickly spoke on. "So… how is this gonna work, exactly? The partnership between the Vegas families, I mean. How did it work between you and Mr. House?"
Big Sal leaned back in his chair, cupping his hands over his stomach and giving her a curious stare. "I would've thought that Mr. House would've given you that information… if he actually intended for you to take over."
Sandra swallowed, feeling a spark of nervousness as she read over Big Sal's ominous expression. It seemed this man was as intelligent as he was hungry—he was onto her, almost as if he could read her mind through mere eye contact.
"He told me bits and pieces," Sandra fibbed. "But, between all the jobs he had me do… I didn't have time to have a full sit-down with him before he passed."
"Mhm." Big Sal nodded mildly, again falling quiet for a few seconds. "You know, Courier… Sandra… we've heard some amazing things about you. I'd like to separate fact from fiction here, if you don't mind."
Sandra nodded. "Okay. What have you heard?"
"Well… mixed things," Big Sal said. "The latest rumors involve you and your little… militia… breaking up a secret society of cannibals in the UltraLuxe."
"Oh yeah. I can vouch for that," Arcade nodded, raising a hand.
"Yeah… a few of the elites in the White Glove Society were kidnapping people and locking them up in a deep freeze," Sandra explained. "I only found out because they tried to kidnap my advisor, here. Big mistake."
"Very heroic of you," Big Sal smirked. "However… an older rumor has me a bit more concerned. A rumor that you may have had a hand in the assassination of the Tops's highest chairman. A man by the name of Benny. Now, I don't know the full story, or even if the rumors are true… but if you're the type of person who goes around killing the chairmen of the casinos, you can understand why that would concern me, of all people."
"I didn't kill Benny," Sandra stated. "Someone else did."
"Oh?" Big Sal perked his brow at her. "Who?"
Sandra fell silent, gulping and inhaling heavily.
"I don't know," she lied again. "I did have a personal beef with him, but… when I tracked him to his suite, he was already dead when I got there. I don't know who killed him."
"That's oddly convenient," Big Sal observed.
"Probably looks that way, yeah," Sandra admitted. "But I'm telling the truth."
"Really." Big Sal leaned forward, hunching on the table and staring into her more fixedly. "Because… I've had a dark suspicion on my mind ever since the new chairmen took over the Tops Hotel & Casino, and I really hope I'm wrong."
"Shoot," Sandra said vacantly.
"For the first time since the founding of the families… an outsider became the top dog at the one of our casinos," Big Sal told her. "An outsider who's been negotiating between the casinos, and he seems to be running be Tops well. Now, call me paranoid, but… it seems oddly convenient that you walked into Benny's suite, Benny miraculously dropped dead, and suddenly, some random outsider was allowed to take over. It almost looks as if you organized a takeover of the Tops, landing one of your friends in charge. Organizing such a thing would certainly aid in you taking control of Vegas."
"Well… I can assure you, that's not the case," Sandra said, this time completely truthfully. "I don't even know who's running the Tops now. I thought Swank was."
"Swank is co-managing the Tops Hotel & Casino alongside an up-and-coming outsider… man by the name of Mr. Burke," Big Sal stated. "Are you telling me you don't know this Mr. Burke?"
Sandra stared at him emptily, showing no reaction whatsoever—but strangely enough, the name Mr. Burke seemed to set off an alarm in her mind, resulting in yet another penetrating headache. Nevertheless, she merely shrugged and shook her head.
"No," She answered flatly. "I don't."
Big Sal stared at her for nearly a full minute. Then, he relaxed, nodding and helping himself to another small calzone. "Well… good. I've been highly suspicious of this Mr. Burke from the get-go. But, you must understand… it's highly unusual for an outsider to take control of the casinos here. And now… we have an outsider running the Tops and an outsider running the Lucky 38. It's all just a little strange to me."
Sandra forgot to reply, staring down at her plate as her mind unwittingly began to wander. She couldn't know why—but the word Burke seemed to be seeping into her mind like water to a sponge now. Suddenly, she found herself thinking of a rink-dink town she never remembered before, a megaton bomb resting in the center, a man with sunglasses soliciting her in the corner of the bar…
The same face stared at her many weeks later, his malicious expression now gone, replaced with one of downtrodden dismay and uttering a soft, saddened plea.
You can't go out alone again. Please…
Sandra inhaled sharply, snapping back into reality and quickly refilling her wine glass.
Arcade squinted at her, reading her expression and recognizing yet another one of her brief and random flashbacks. He took another bite of food, not daring to speak on the matter.
"Sandra," Big Sal said, licking his fingers and observing her closely again. "Who do you know in the Mojave?"
Sandra slowly looked up, meeting his eyes and feeling a powerful wave of urgency, though she wasn't sure why.
"I don't know what you mean," she uttered.
"I mean… considering all I've heard, you seem to be more of an outsider than anybody," Big Sal remarked. "And yet, somehow… you've rallied everyone behind you. You became a hero at the UltraLuxe, you obtained Mr. House's trust, you inherited the Lucky 38, and you've got the entire city of New Vegas backing you now. It seems to me that you have a natural knack for fashioning people into weapons at your disposal… and it just strikes me as curious. All these people supporting you, all these people backing you… and you haven't been here for a fraction of the time we have. Unless you have allies pulling the strings from behind the scenes… I cannot fathom how you've accomplished so much in so little time."
Sandra gazed across the table, her expression stoic, his words sinking deeply into her.
Fashioning people into weapons?
Truly, she did have a knack for it, more than she even knew—and in ways she rarely saw, her allies most assuredly were pulling the strings in her favor. In fact, they were all doing so right now.
But as Sandra sat before the Omerta family, she had no way of knowing such a thing—from the instances in her past to the events of her present, she knew nothing of all the occurrences that proved Big Sal's observation correct.
Yet still—her past and her memories completely lost from her—as she sat across from the crime lord, somehow, she knew for certain that he was absolutely right. Somehow, she had no doubt in her mind of how many people had fought and sacrificed for her in the past, and how many more would be expected to in the future. It might've been unfair, or even tragic, but Sandra wore a determined visage now, resolving that none of the hang-ups mattered anymore.
Because this time, she wouldn't make the mistake of running away, and all the people fighting under her new cause would never fight in vain again.
So, Sandra offered him an unfazed, whimsical smirk, raising her glass as if toasting to his observance. "That's where I shine, Mr. Omerta… and I think you'll find it's a lot better to be my weapon than it is to be my enemy."
Niner and Arcade both raised their brows at her—and the other Omertas all turned their heads, staring at her as if she'd just signed her own death certificate.
Sandra simply chuckled, sipping her wine and feeling utterly fearless in a way she hadn't felt since the final showdown for Project Purity.
Big Sal glared across the table at her for several long, tense seconds, his smile fading away, replaced by a deeply-etched frown.
"I think we've entertained the notion of civility for long enough, now," Big Sal snarled. "I intend to put the Lucky 38 under real management, and it would behoove you to tell me exactly what I need to know to do so, Courier."
"Oh… would it, now?" Sandra cackled, cocking her head and slinging her bangs aside. "Sure. You want a gold toilet too?"
Cachino slammed his hands to the table angrily, shooting up to his feet and approaching Sandra with his stained steak knife at hand.
Niner leaped up and whipped out his butterfly knife, blocking his path and glaring heatedly into Cachino's beady eyes.
"I wouldn't try, big man," Niner rumbled furiously. "Back off."
Niner and Cachino shared along, tense stare as they held one another at knifepoint, everyone else watching in anxious awe.
Then, Cachino's eyes narrowed at Niner. "I know you. You're the little shit that kept causing trouble between me and my girls."
"Ah yeah?" Niner shot back challengingly. "I can cause more trouble than that—why don't you tell your boss man here about all your side business? Stealing from your family and selling shit off behind their backs—yeah, Joana had a lot to say about that, you sick abusive fuckface."
Cachino's eyes widened—he quickly laughed and shook his head, facing Big Sal. "Oh, he's so full of shit—don't listen to him. He's lying through his teeth!"
"Enough," Big Sal hissed, planting a fist to the table and making Nero and Clanden both jump. "I'll deal with you later, Cachino—all of you, seize Courier Six and her companions right now."
Sandra didn't move from her chair, leaning back and giving Big Sal a long, searing glare. Her eyes ignited, illuminating a fiery blue much like they once did long ago, almost as if a demon inside had awoken from a long, four-year slumber.
"You don't scare me," she glowered in a faint, wicked tone as the Omertas slowly rose from their chairs. "You're just a weak little puissant. You steal and connive from your tower because you're too much of a coward for the real world. You haven't been through a fraction of what I have. You are nothing to me, Sal. I've forgotten more than you'll ever know."
And just as the words escaped her mouth and the Omertas began to surround her—the lights flickered off, shrouding them all in darkness.
Niner took the chance to lunge at Cachino—Arcade grabbing Sandra by the arm and forcibly yanking her under the table as the guards raised their guns and peered around—
Suddenly, the fire alarm began wailing all throughout the Gomorrah casino—everyone in the brimstone and everyone upstairs began yelling and glancing around frantically, and all the staff began escorting people outside in a hurry.
As Niner stabbed Cachino ruthlessly in the darkened room—the brimstone bar began to empty, people flooding out all the doorways and hallways.
Mr. Burke, Boone, and Vulpes led the charge—all of them advancing on the double-doors in the corner—Boone kicking the door open with all his might.
It began—gunshots broke out up and down the entire room, muzzle flashes illuminating the darkness in brief spurs as the deafening noises rattled the atmosphere.
Sandra and Arcade met eyes underneath the table—both of them whipping out their pistols and leaning outward. They opened fire in the general direction of the Omerta guards—Niner and Veronica diving over the table and wrestling Clanden to the ground—both of them shoving blades into him and making him unleash a bloodcurdling scream. Sarah soon joined them, planting several rounds into Clanden's head and instantly silencing him.
Melody tried to run into the room as well—Bryan yanking her back and shaking his head.
Scar and ED-E entered the room and attacked—ED-E's laser blasting a red light across the darkness and burning a perfect hole in one of the guards' chests. Scar sank his teeth into the ankle of the other guard—making him scream in pain—and suddenly, Sandra and Arcade knew exactly where to aim. They both shot the second guard down instantly as Nero pulled out his pistol—but Boone and Mr. Burke both shot the man in the head before he could fire.
Just then—Sandra aimed toward the head of the table and hammered the trigger—but her gun was now empty. Swearing under her breath, she leaped out from under the table and charged toward Big Sal fearlessly, Arcade making a grab for her and missing—
And just as the gunshots vanished—the lights powered back on, Sandra standing directly in front of Big Sal, everyone else watching with rapt anticipation—Big Sal grimacing nastily as he pressed his pistol to her jaw—Sandra reared back and prepared to—
She froze and took in a sharp gasp.
Someone grabbed Big Sal from behind—jamming a huge blade into the side of his skull in a single, powerful thrust.
The many companions of the courier stood by and watched from across the now destroyed room, Big Sal gaping and sputtering as his eyes tore open, a trickle of blood oozing from the side of his head and pouring steadily down his neck.
Vulpes's teeth were clenched, his visage warped with fury as he ripped the blade from the man's skull—splattering the far wall with blood as the large mobster crumbled to the floor at their feet.
A deeply tense silence fell over them all, Sandra and Vulpes inhaling several rapid breaths, standing before one another at the head of the table and—at long last—meeting eyes once again.
Mr. Burke helped Sarah to her feet, both of them gazing into Sandra across the room. Veronica and Boone straightened up and traded glances, Arcade and Niner doing the same as ED-E and Scar regrouped with everyone near the broken double-doors. For seconds that seemed to last for years, they all merely stood there, watching as Sandra and Vulpes's eyes bled into one another.
This moment seemed to last for an eternity—and as it did, Mr. Burke nodded to himself, resolving something he didn't bother acknowledging aloud. He made a subtle nod at Boone, Sarah, and Veronica, motioning for them to quietly back out of the room.
Mr. Burke, Sarah, Veronica, and Boone all slipped out of the room, entering the now empty brimstone and regrouping beside Bryan and Melody.
"What're we doing?" Sarah panted, swiping her messy blonde bangs out of her eyes.
Mr. Burke glimpsed at the doorway, sighing heavily and adjusting his collar. "It's not time for her to know yet."
"What?" Sarah gasped. "After all we just—"
"Sarah," Mr. Burke said in a soft, firm voice, gently taking her by the hands. "If she can go on for a while longer without remembering what happened to Charon and her father… then I want her to. Certainly, we shouldn't remind her of that now. It's kinder that way."
Sarah gulped, gazing into him with a conflicted visage, his thumbs lightly stroking along her soft, pale skin. At last, she released a sigh and gave him a tired nod.
"You guys are just gonna leave…?" Melody murmured.
"Seeya later," Bryan said, scooping her into a quick hug and making her jump. "We'll see you again, I swear."
"Burke," Boone uttered. "You sure?"
"Yes… for now," Mr. Burke concluded. "Let's go."
All of them marched off and left the lower brimstone, leaving Melody alone outside of the Omertas's private quarters—where Sandra and Vulpes were still entranced in a long, deep stare.
Arcade and Niner glanced at one another, both of their expressions riddled with anxiety.
Vulpes let out a massive cloud of breath, thoroughly pained and exhausted as he continued to stare into the courier before him, feeling as if all the hardship was now—somehow—worth all the trouble that had led him here.
And for Sandra, as she stood before the ex-frumentarius and read his every detail—it seemed as if the ghost of her past wasn't quite through with her yet tonight, because now, her head was positively splitting, burning with pain as the memory of the dog-headed Legionary finally—and permanently—returned to her in full.
And as the wild images of the far-gone past rushed through her mind all at once—the shock of it rattled her to her very core, and suddenly, Sandra felt faint, the room spinning around her as her consciousness abandoned her at once.
Vulpes barely managed to catch her before she could hit the bloody floor.