1976

Jonathan felt his whole body buzz with adrenaline. He'd flown faster in a private craft than ever before so he could get to Vegas as soon as possible. And here he was.

Upon landing, he used the payphone to call back to the Hart Towers penthouse and see if Stanley found anything. Thank god he had.

"There's a reservation for Manning at the Dunes, Mr. Hart," Stanley said. "The Honeymoon Suite."

A searing swath of rage ripped through Jonathan at those words. The very idea that Elliot Manning would dare presume such a thing. That he could spirit Jennifer away and marry her and live happily ever after in the Honeymoon Suite. It was a possessiveness and a jealousy that Jonathan had not felt in a very long time. He'd done a damn good job in high school of resisting acting on these feelings when it came to Jennifer. But nothing then, not even Ford Beebe and any of his nonsense, had made Jonathan as angry as this.

He hung up on Stanley feeling a little bad but mostly just focused on finding Jennifer and making sure she was safe before he found Manning and beat his brains in. And for that, he'd have to go to the Dunes.

It was a short cab ride, and he was agitated the entire way. He had visions of breaking the door down to the Honeymoon Suite and pulling his gun and demanding to know where Jennifer was. Or perhaps she would be there and fall into his arms and he could vow to never let anything happen to her ever again. All scenarios in his mind involved some kind of satisfying fight with Elliot Manning that Jonathan would easily win and ended with kissing Jennifer.

But he was getting ahead of himself. Jonathan threw some cash and a good tip at the cab driver as he tore into the Dunes. The casino was on the first floor, and the elevators to the hotel rooms were around there somewhere. The whole place was hazy with cigarette smoke and the stale smell of bad booze. A cacophony of laughter and cheers and chips falling and roulette wheels spinning and that mix of mechanical and electronic ringing of slot machines permeated every molecule.

Well, he had to start somewhere.

Jonathan walked quickly through the casino, hoping to make his way through and find the elevators. But Vegas casinos were not designed to be easily navigated. He was turned around before he knew it. The craps table was to the right, blackjack to the left. But weren't the slots in the back? He had just passed them, but now the poker tables were where he'd thought the roulette games were located.

He turned one way and then another, scanning the crowd for anyone familiar, for any sign of where he could go. His heart was racing. He was wasting valuable time, and he knew it. The gun in his waistband and hidden by his jacket was growing hot through his shirt.

"Jonathan!" came a desperate cry.

The sound of a familiar voice made him whirl around. Jennifer was about twenty feet away, barefoot and limping slightly and wearing nothing but her slip and underthings. Her face was flushed and her hair was a mess and she had a wild look in her eyes. And she was rushing straight for him.

He opened his arms just as she launched herself into his embrace. Her legs wrapped around his and she sobbed into his neck as she clung to him desperately. "Jonathan, oh Jonathan!" she wept.

Jonathan hardly knew what had happened, but it didn't matter just now. She was safe and she was back in his arms where she belonged. He found her. Or, really, she found him. "Darling, are you alright?" he asked frantically.

Jennifer just cried. Jonathan gently put her back on the ground but held her up so she didn't collapse. She didn't seem too steady on her feet. "You came," she said with a muffled voice through her tears.

"Of course I did," he answered, stroking her hair reverently. "I came as soon as I could, as soon as I could find where you were."

She pulled back to look up at him, but her hands were fisted in the lapel of his jacket, unable to let him go. Her eyes were wet and red-rimmed. She was quiet for a moment and then pulled him back to her, pressing her lips against his, right there in the middle of the casino while all the patrons gambled and smoked and drank around them.

It didn't matter that they were amidst a crowd. As was always the case, Jonathan felt sparks of lightning in her kiss. It was all the sweeter for the triumph of being back together after having lost her yet again.

Jennifer ended the kiss far too soon, however. She swallowed hard and looked back up at him and asked, "How did you know where I was?"

"We can talk about that later. Let's just get you home. Do you have any shoes or anything?" he asked.

Jennifer shook her head. "I climbed down from the balcony and didn't manage to take anything with me. I landed on the roof of the restaurant and then ran into the casino so I'd get lost in the crowd."

That was probably a very smart thing to do. But this was Jennifer, so of course she was smart. Jonathan wanted to hear the details of her escape, but now was not the time. "We'll figure it out," he reasoned. They had a lot to tell each other. Later. Once Vegas was far away.

All of a sudden, Jennifer gasped. "Jonathan, look out!" she cried.

He turned, shielding her as best he could. Two men were coming toward him, with hands at their waistbands. Each had a visible gun tucked away but in easy reach.

"Joe and Paul. They're Elliot's," Jennifer explained.

Jonathan didn't wait for anything else. He drew his own gun and pointed it at the men. One of them—maybe Paul, he looked like a Paul—drew his and shot at Jonathan without hesitation.

Screams and chaos erupted in the casino as people panicked and tried to escape gunfire. "Run!" Jonathan shouted to Jennifer, grabbing her hand and dragging her off by the craps tables and away from Joe and Paul.

More shots rang out behind them. More screaming from the casino patrons. The crowd formed and interrupted the path Jennifer and Jonathan were on. His grasp was broken, and she disappeared into the throng.

"Jennifer!" he cried, trying to find her.

"Jonathan!" she called in response.

Her voice seemed so far away. He had to get to her. He had to…

"Help!" Jennifer screamed, but her voice was cut off abruptly.

There was a break in the masses and Jonathan could see what had silenced Jennifer. Elliot Manning had Jennifer. He had one arm around her waist, holding her tight to his side. His other hand held a gun pointed right at her.

"Don't do anything stupid, Jonathan," Manning warned.

Jonathan's mind spun as he tried to find an opening, some way to get her away from him. He'd have to distract Manning somehow.

Joe and Paul appeared, each with their guns drawn. They approached Jonathan cautiously. Everyone was armed. But there were three bad guys, one of whom threatened Jennifer, and only one of Jonathan.

"What do you want, Manning?" Jonathan asked, not relinquishing his position in the least.

"I want you to leave me and my wife alone," Manning replied.

Jonathan's heart fell right out of the bottom of his stomach. "Wife?" His voice got a little strangled on the word.

"She would've been if it weren't for you. Jesus Christ, you're a real pain, you know that?" Manning taunted. "Though Jennifer's been telling me about how much she missed me. Especially when we're in bed together." A slick grin appeared on his face. Jonathan thought he was going to be sick.

But Jennifer had a look of fire about her. "Oh bullshit!" she exclaimed. "You drugged me and drove me over state lines, asshole."

There was a part of Jonathan that was proud of her for that and endeared beyond belief, but it was hard to feel good about anything when she had a gun pointed at her.

Manning, however, ignored Jennifer's snide remarks. He instead turned his attention to his two goons. "Joe, take his gun. Paul, how the hell did he even get here?"

One man came over, pointing his gun the whole time, and did indeed take Jonathan's gun away. The other spoke to Manning. "He slipped by me, boss. Went out to the airport. I hadda pull my gun on the flight control to find out where he was goin'. Figured he'd end up here if he was headin' to Vegas."

"What the hell do I pay you for if you're not gonna do the job right?" Manning accused.

"Well, you ain't paid me in two weeks, boss," Paul countered.

Jonathan glanced over at Jennifer who was staring right at him. She flicked her eyes to the right. Jonathan followed her gaze. Now that the casino was practically empty after the chaotic evacuation, he could see the walls. And on the far wall to the right was a door that said Roof Access.

As subtly as he could, Jonathan gave Jennifer a nod. He watched her as she waited for the right moment. Jonathan waited, too. Paul and Manning were bickering, and Joe still had a gun pointed at Jonathan.

Manning's hand dropped ever so slightly, and Jennifer took her moment. She laced her fingers together and used the force of both arms to elbow Manning right in the gut. He had the wind knocked out of him and nearly lost his grip on the gun. Nearly.

Another shot rang out, and Jonathan took his chance. Jennifer was already sprinting to the stairwell, and Joe was howling and hopping around. He'd gotten shot in the foot. Jonathan leapt at him and knocked both guns out of his hands. Joe was writhing on the floor as Jonathan popped up, his own gun back in hand, and pistol-whipped Paul across the cheek.

And then it was Elliot Manning's turn. Jonathan didn't shoot him or even hit him with the gun. Instead, he balled the fist of his free hand and gave a mighty swing and a left hook worthy of his Navy service. There was a horrific and satisfying crunch of bone. Jonathan turned and ran after Jennifer. He didn't look back at Manning but was fairly certain he broke the man's nose and possibly his jaw, too.

Ripping open the door to the stairwell, Jonathan shouted, "Jennifer!?"

"Jonathan?" she answered. She was pretty far up there.

He started up the stairs to get to her and he could hear her bare feet on the metal stairs hurrying down to him. But then the door opened again, and Manning's voice echoed, "Get them!"

Joe must have been abandoned with his injury. It was Paul and Manning who started up the stairs. Jonathan got a glimpse of them before Paul shot in his direction. Jonathan returned fire. "Jennifer, keep going up!" he told her.

"Jonathan, be careful," she yelled down to him worriedly.

"Go!" he insisted.

He did his best to follow her while avoiding getting shot. There were only five floors in this main casino building, thankfully, but it was still a lot of stairs. And not a lot of places to hide. The squeak of a door above let him know that Jennifer had made it to the roof. Hopefully she could safely stay out of danger there.

Jonathan managed to make it to the roof safely, too. Jennifer was waiting so they could barricade the door. "Keep to the side, they're still shooting," he warned.

Sure enough, the second she stepped away, more shots rang out. Jonathan hoped to use the element of surprise by throwing the door open and grabbing the first man who came by. It happened to be Paul, and Jonathan did manage to get the jump on him. Jonathan hurled Paul to the ground, kicking the gun out of his hands. Jennifer made to pick it up, but Manning stopped her.

"Not so fast, baby," he sneered, pointing the gun at her, too.

Jonathan and Paul were still exchanging blows. Paul was a hell of a lot bigger than Jonathan, so he was up off the ground quick enough. They tussled, getting ever closer to the edge. Paul got the upper hand for a moment, but Jonathan was faster. He dodged a punch and landed one of his own right at Paul's kidneys. The man sailed over the edge under the force of the blow.

"Don't move."

When Jonathan looked up, Manning had Jennifer at gunpoint again. Jonathan reached for his own gun, and they were in a standoff. "You won't get away with this, Manning," Jonathan told him.

"I don't think you're in a position to tell me anything, Jonathan. It looks like I've got the girl and you're going to follow Paul off the roof."

Jennifer's eyes were wide with panic as she looked at Jonathan, her mouth open in terror. Jonathan couldn't look at her without feeling that rage of protectiveness nearly overpower him again, but he couldn't do anything to risk her safety any further. He had to find a way out of this.

"FREEZE!"

Jonathan froze, but still kept the gun pointed at Manning until a swarm of uniformed officers and men in suits came through that stairwell door and onto the roof. A couple of them came over to take all the firearms.

One man in a suit and dark sunglasses came over. "Elliot Manning, I'm Special Agent Macklin, FBI. You're under arrest."

"For what?" Manning demanded. As though there were any way out of this now.

"For a lot of things," Macklin replied simply. He turned to Jonathan. "And I take it you're Jonathan Hart?"

"Yes."

Agent Macklin smiled. "Good to meet you. Heard a lot about you. And thank you for all your help."

"Who called you?" Jennifer asked, finally freed from Manning's grasp.

"A few people, actually. Lieutenant Colonel Richard Staley of the United States Air Force. LAPD Detective Harry Moss. And some guy named Max."

Jennifer and Jonathan looked at each other and started laughing. Jonathan's friends had all come through, sending in the cavalry just in time. He was a far cry away from the pariah of the group in Cape Cod who was left alone in lockup all night.

As the feds took Manning away, Jennifer fell into Jonathan's arms once again, hugging him tight.

"Jonathan, can we go home?" she asked with her voice muffled into her collar.

"Absolutely. I've gotta return Richard's plane anyway. But before we go, I've got a question for you."

She looked up at him, smirking slightly. "Where are my shoes?"

He chuckled. "We'll get you some shoes, sweetheart. But no, that's not what I was going to ask."

"What were you going to ask?"

Jonathan smiled. "Will you marry me?"