Free Hero Engine by Alexander Nader

sluttiness of Vegas is in full, tail-feathered display. Hundred-thousand dollar sports cars wait for valets. Barely-dressed women hand out pamphlets for brothels. Big-time gamblers strut around like losing at thousand-dollar-a-hand blackjack tables is no big thing. I want to go back to Georgia.
    “So what’s the plan?” Ann leans close to my ear to be heard over the din of the city around us.
    I take the tie off my neck and hand it to her. The basics of a plan are rolling around in my head. I unbutton the top two buttons of my shirt, take my gun out of the holster and tuck it in the back of my waistband.
    “What are you doing?” Ann takes the gun holster I hand her and holds it in the same hand as the tie.
    “I’m going to try to have a peaceable chat with River. From what I read in his file, he’s not big on authority-type figures, so it’s going to do me absolutely zero good to go in there with my cop-face on. Maybe if I approach him with a ‘mutual interests’ kind of vibe, this won’t end in a fistfight.”
    A man in a torn-up Army Surplus jacket runs up to us with a fast food cup extended. One of the valets rushes him, shouldering the guy out of our path. A handful of pennies scatter across the neon-lit, check that, the LCD-lit parking lot. A man in a nice suit with a Grand nametag offers his apologies. He hands us each a ten-dollar playing chip.
    As the manager struts off, Ann scowls at him. “All that poor homeless guy wanted was some change and they tackled him like he just tried to assassinate the President.”
    I shrug, not sure what to say. The whole altercation is just some shit that doesn’t quite happen where I come from. Even the old crazies are treated with a kind of light-hearted reverence in the south.
    Ann takes her gaze off the casino worker and turns back to me. “So what’s my role in this whole deal?”
    She’s not going to like this one bit. “I need you to hang back and keep an eye on me from a distance.”
    Her mouth flattens into a straight line. “Have you lost your marbles? I know you’re exhausted, but you’re not stupid.”
    I think that may have hurt my ego, but I’m too tired to figure out how heavily I’ve just been insulted. “Yes, I heard what you said, but I need to convince River to talk to me. He needs to think I’m an open book. If he tries his psychic ability on me and nothing happens, my plan will never work.”
    Ann’s expression stays the same. “I don’t like this.”
    “You don’t have to like it, but I know you understand. You’re rested and you’re not stupid.”
    The comment cracks Ann’s face as her concern crumbles. “Fine, but I’m keeping close. If anything goes wrong, I’m stepping in.”
    “Everything’s going to be fine. Just a couple guys chatting over a game of cards. What’s the worst that could happen?”
    The look on Ann’s face tells me she’s going through each and every one of the terrible things that could happen.
    “Cheer up, Sourpuss.” I give her my chip. “Give the slot machines a ‘go’ on the casino’s dime.”
    She takes the money. I head for the casino before I lose my nerve.
    Bombarded with more flashing light than I ever thought possible, this place is like I’ve walked into an epileptic nightmare. Seriously, does the city have seizure warning signs on the outskirts of the town? Two long rows of slot machines and video poker line the aisles. To the left is a long bar and to the right is the entrance to some form of auditorium. I wonder if Richard Cheese is playing tonight. That’s one lounge act I would love to catch.
    I walk down the rows of video machines. Old women with fanny packs and Big Gulps sit and perform a ‘Coin, pull, lose,’ routine times infinity. Once I’m through the slots, the table games come into view. Roulette and craps and blackjack go round at a frantic pace. Shouts of victory and defeat pollute the air to toxic levels of drunken douchebaggery.
    No one at the tables looks like