"As you wished. You won again, ma'am." The dealer's face had turned from green to black.
At the same time, the gamblers watching also cheered, as if they were happier to see the casino lose money than to win money themselves.
Next to the woman stood a "flower protector", who was not tall but dressed very coquettishly, wearing a windbreaker with a face full of stubble, looking more like the original than a guy who had COSed as "Zha Kang".
"Hey, guys, you are finally here." The guy turned around and saw three people walking towards this side. He opened his arms enthusiastically to Negley, but she punched him on the shoulder in disgust.
"O'Donnell, why are you here too?" Negley's expression was also a little surprised. She received the news from Dixon who was playing cards, but she didn't expect that two people would show up together.
"Reacher?" Dixon, seated, turned around. It was another familiar face: the vibrant red-haired, shaved-headed queen, "Medusa," from the awful Marvel movie "Inhumans."
Unfortunately, compared to her slender figure, Dixon's features were a bit hard, and her makeup style was more in keeping with the image of a beauty from old Westerns. She was also a bit older, with noticeable wrinkles around her eyes, probably around 40.
However, to Jack, this older woman's appearance was surprisingly well-matched with Reacher's weathered, rough features. If the two of them had changed into dusty cowboy outfits and hats, they could have been on the set of "3:00 to Yuma."
Dixon's sideways movement revealed a pile of chips on the poker table in front of her, and Jack finally understood the dealer's grim expression.
As Reacher and Dixon exchanged meaningful glances, O'Donnell, on the other side, explained to Negley why he had lost contact.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to ignore your calls. I was on vacation with my family, and that week was our 'Unplugged Week.'"
Negley frowned. "That's a scary word."
"Yeah, every year my wife picks a week off in a cabin in the middle of nowhere. No phones, no TV, not even a washing machine. It's all about 'getting away from screens, getting close to nature.'
It sounds wonderful, but by the third day, my demon children start killing each other.
When I got home and got your message on voicemail, I rushed to New York. On the way, I got a message from Dixon, so I headed back to Atlantic City."
After explaining this, O'Donnell's face darkened. "I know everything about Franz, Sanchez, and Orozco. And Swann, unfortunately, have you found him?"
"We'll talk later." Negley winked at him, indicating that this was not the place to talk.
"And this guy?" O'Donnell's gaze shifted to Jack, a hint of like-minded repulsion in his eyes.
"Jack, Reacher's friend, here to help." Jack offered his hand. He was also wearing a black trench coat today. While their outfits weren't exactly identical, their styles were certainly similar.
Just as they were exchanging pleasantries and introducing themselves, an older man dressed like a manager appeared before Dixon and pulled a few tickets from his suit pocket.
"Congratulations, ma'am. I see you've had some pretty good luck today. Would you like to celebrate with a free concert?"
Jack, a casino newbie, initially thought it was some clueless accostor, but then he realized he'd witnessed the proverbial casino scare.
Red was probably the only person he knew who had experienced something similar, but Red had been blacklisted by every casino in Las Vegas. This was the first time he'd seen someone being scare into quitting because of their excessive winnings.
"No thanks, I'm having a great time here," Dixon said, raising an eyebrow and handing the concert tickets back.
The casino manager didn't take the tickets, but leaned in closer and whispered, "We know you're counting cards."
"Mental arithmetic isn't illegal," Dixon retorted with a grin. Seeing the old man's expression change slightly, she quickly changed the subject. "But since my friends have come to see me, let's just forget it this time."
She stood up and called out to Reacher. "Mr. Muscle, please take these chips to the cash window for me."
When going out to eat with Reacher, a buffet is the best option. This guy loves everything and devours everything with gusto. Even a meal for three people can be finished in half the time it takes a normal person to finish one.
"What's wrong with you guys? No appetite?" The large man asked curiously, noticing that everyone else's plates, except Jack, were barely touched.
"Ever since you left me a message saying Franz was dead, my mind's been a mess. You know, I haven't been to a casino in years, and then you told me Sanchez and Orozco were dead, too.
So even though I just made a ton of money, I'm still in a terrible mood."
Dixon lost his high spirits from the casino, ruffling his long hair into a mess.
O'Donnell's face was gloomy, completely devoid of his previous cheerful playboy demeanor. "I have to say, Franz's story really pisses me off. I like that kid, and Sanchez and Orozco too. Damn it, just tell me, which bastards are we going to take down?"
"We should eat a full stomach before we work, so we have the strength." Jack wiped his mouth and glanced behind Reacher without a word.
"Should we go to Sanchez and Orozco's offices first, or take care of those tailers first?"
The black SUV had followed them all the way from New York to Atlantic City. The driver, a man wearing a leather jacket and sporting a scar on his cheek, thought he was well hidden, but his tracking skills weren't particularly impressive.
"Those two things don't seem to conflict," Negley said, looking at the map on his phone. "Their office is in an alley near the boardwalk. It looks secluded and walkable."
Reacher stood up, grabbed his hand-me-down jacket from the back of a chair, and placed a five-dollar bill under his coffee cup as a tip. "Okay, let's do some post-dinner exercise."
Like ordinary tourists, the five of them strolled leisurely along the boardwalk after leaving the restaurant. The late autumn breeze was a bit chilly, but still considerably warmer than New York's near-zero temperatures. A light sweater and a jacket were just the right amount of warmth.
Around midnight, the atmosphere in the casino was at its peak. Outside, the streets were sparsely populated, and the five of them walked in two rows, two in front and three behind.
It was clear that Dixon was somewhat interested in Reacher. The two walked ahead, chatting quietly, while the three behind them tactfully kept a distance of four or five meters.
As they walked, they passed a convenience store. Reacher took Dixon inside. When they emerged, each of them held a few bottles of beer.
Reacher handed Jack one. "Firing a gun here would easily attract the police. It's best not to make too much noise."
Jack pulled a hand from his pocket, an Osprey silencer flashing between his fingers. "Thanks, but did you steal my line? When did you start worrying about this?"
"It's mainly because I want to get a good night's sleep tonight and don't want to spend the night in the local police detention center." Reacher pressed the bottle into Jack's hand and glanced behind him calmly. "Why are there only four of us?"
Jack, who had also been looking behind him through the glass door of the convenience store that Reacher had pushed open, tilted his head slightly and saw the SUV with New York license plates slowly driving past them. He couldn't help but curl his lip.
"There are still three in the car, 7 to 5, still hard to tell."
"Then let's see who's faster. The slowest one gets a drink. The one with the gun doesn't count." Reacher raised his chin and gestured towards a construction site not far away. "That looks like a good place."
(End of this chapter)