Chapter Five: Secrets

AN/ A lot of background is hinted at here. I'm teasing you :)

Jack and Arcade stepped over the threshold of the King's Headquarters, into a room filled with people dressed in leather and white. A few looked around at the new arrivals and greeted from their seats. Jack smiled and nodded, then asked the nearest if he could see the King. The gang member jumped to his feet and gladly led them into a theater room where a man in a tan blazer with black pants and shirt was sitting watching a performance. He was easily the most well dressed person in the room, so Jack assumed it was the King. Sure enough, the Kings member led them to the well dressed man and said, "Sir, Jack Vegas is here to see you."

"Hey! Jack! It's good ta see ya, man, that is some nice armor. You probably made it yourself, didn't you, you crafty snake. How're you doing? Are you here to collect?" The King turned in his chair to greet him. Unobtrusively the King's member that had said his name slipped away.

The King held out his hand and Jack accepted. The handshake was firm and quick, and then he smiled and said, "Hello, Mr. King. I suppose I'm not doing rather well, that's actually what I'd like to talk to you about, and I'm not sure what I should be collecting, but before any of that can I ask what that man just called me?"

Almost inaudibly the charismatic man rhetorically asked, "Mr. King?" With a strange look on his face he said, "Jack, what are you talkin' about, 'what did he call you?' You're Jack Vegas." He paused for a second as if waiting for a response, then started again in what sounded like a jingle. "You're Jack Vegas, the Jack of Spades, the Jack of Hearts, the Jack of All Trades! That's your catch phrase, you came up with it!" That didn't sound right. Not the jingle, that sounded pretty good, but "Jack Vegas" stuck in his mind stronger than a cheesy catch phrase.

"So it's a nickname? Just an epithet?" This earned a worried look from the King, and he looked like he was starting to get annoyed. His curiosity was forestalling filling in the man about what had happened.

"Why are you acting like this Jack? We're The King and The Jack, two cards that rule the deck. We sat at this table one night and you came up with a hundred of these, remember?"

"Ah, wow, sorry. I'm stupid. I meant to have started with this, but I got sidetracked." Here he pushed the lock of hair away from his left ear and said, "I was shot in the head a few weeks ago. I don't remember much of anything that happened before then."

For a second it looked like The King wasn't going to believe him, but the scar was hard proof. "If you weren't such an honest man and if we weren't such good friends I'd tell you to wipe that makeup off and get out before I really did shoot you dead for trying to fool me. But I know you, and memory or no memory you wouldn't do something like that." He paused and thought for a second, then said, "So is that why you're here? Someone shot you? I swear to you, Jack, I'll have him killed faster than you can blink. Just give me a name, man, and it's done."

"No, no I'll take care of the killing. He shot me, you think I'm going to let him get away with that? No, I heard that I knew you before I lost my memory and I just want to know some things about... uh, myself, I guess. I only remember bits and pieces." He stopped then and looked around, letting his mind nudge something into the focus. It was like squinting at a person approaching through fog. "For some reason this place reminds me of long hours spent building a suitcase, but that doesn't make sense at all."

The King gave him a serious look, then a nod and said, "Jack, I'm not sure you want to know about that. You wanted it secret very badly, now that you lost your memory it is secret. I don't even know, though I can point you in the right direction if you want. You should let it stay secret, though, man. It was big, and it was dangerous. Let it stay buried."

Jack pondered these words. Once again, his interest was perked, but this time it was something he himself had purposefully hidden. He must have wanted it hidden, so it was probably best to leave it that way.

"Okay, King, I'll let that be. So, back to business, what exactly was that about 'Jack Vegas?' And is there anything I should know about, uh, myself? Family? Lovers? Do I have a wife and kids worrying about me right now?"

"Ha! You? I don't think you've even popped your cherry yet, kept going on about how you hadn't met the 'right one.' Just about everyone teases you about it. Family, though..." he paused and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, "That might be another something to let be, Jack. You've got one relative, and I know who it is, but you didn't like this person."

He was starting to get frustrated now. How complicated had his old life been, with so many things that are better off forgotten? "Okay, so what about the name?"

"That leads directly to the relative. It's not a moniker, Vegas is your last name, man. Well, I mean it was made as a nickname, but then it was passed to you as a surname. So I'm not sure that counts as a last name."

Forcibly pushing his questions out of is mind, Jack stood and said, "I guess I'm better off not knowing. If the curiosity starts eating at me, I'll be back, but for now I'm just going to focus on killing someone. I'm off. Thank you, King." They shook hands again and The King wished him good luck.

He was almost out the door when he thought of something. The King controlled Freeside, and had people posted at every entrance and exit. The man he was looking for was pretty ostentatious in his suit, so it was possible that someone had mentioned his passing. He decided it was worth a try, turning back to The King.

"Oh, wait. Before I go, though it's a long shot, has anyone said anything about a man in a fancy black and white checkered suit passing through Freeside?"

For the first time The King looked dumbfounded. "Yeah, actually. Benny, from the Tops casino, he passed through about a week ago. He always wears his suit, or so they say. But, Jack, is that who you're looking for? You don't want to go messing with him."

A jolt passed through him as he heard the name 'Benny.' That was what one of the Great Khans had called the Checkered Suit man, when Jack had been tied up at their feet. Feeling a rush, like he was closer than he had been before, he said, "I am the luckiest son of a bitch there ever was. Again, thank you. I have to go."

He started to leave when The King yelled after him, "Don't do it Jack! Your gonna get killed!"