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Original character of (a.k.a. We Fergie), bounty hunter/superheroine Sable, gets the Dangerguy studio pinup treatment!

Be sure to check out We Fergie's stories featuring Sable and my gal Duster (links below):

Dr. Roberts? I'm Roberta Tracy
Dr. Candace Roberts had just sat through the first day of a four day Environmental Engineering conference being held at The Mirage Hotel and Casino in Las Vegas. Whilst some might not consider spending 4 days in a series of lectures, panels, and seminars much of a vacation, even though located in Sin City, Candy was enjoying the much needed time off from her other vocation, Duster, Mistress of the Winds, a beloved crime fighting superheroine. Fortunately criminals and other assorted evil doers had been inactive allowing her to take some time off from Duster and to stay engaged in her civilian field of study. Plus the middle of May was a good time to be in Vegas before the desert heat settled in. In need of a cooling adult beverage, Candy decided to head to the Center Bar before heading to her room. A couple of Vegas thoughts ran through her mind as she made her way from the conference/meeting area in the northwest side of the building. One was that unlike most casino layouts she did not have to go into the gaming floor to make her way to the elevators. Passing the elevators she almost went to her room first but that was the subject of her second musing, the size of her room, which was much more like other Vegas hotels, not exactly small but just large enough, barely. The theory being that most people should not spend much time in a room, rather they should be out spending money. Lastly was that the free drinks offered to gaming patrons could be quite expensive. Thus her decision to buy one. Passing the last bank of slot machines Candy was caught totally off guard as a cocktail waitress with a full tray violently crashed into her, with both falling to the floor. Then before she could regain her bearings she witnessed a most extraordinary sight. A big brute of a thug landed face down on the floor next to her and the entangled waitress. Then just as suddenly a strangely garbed masked blonde was atop the thug, straddling him, pulling his arms behind him, and putting on flex-cuffs, seemingly produced out of thin air. "You shoulda came along easily when I asked politely," the blonde gloated as she effortlessly lifted the thug to his feet. Helping the waitress up as she herself stood, Candy's first thought was that her new off white business jacket and matching skirt were ruined. Her thoughts were interrupted by rushing hotel security staff. The blonde spoke to one of the newcomers who seemed to be in charge. "George, take care of this young lady," indicating towards Candy. "See that she's taken care of and make sure she gets Ms. Tracy's card." She turned to Candy. "Sorry about the mess," she said in a tone that Candy thought was a touch too glib. And just like that the strange blonde was gone, pushing her captive in front of her. Less than two minutes later, George was finishing up the task of "taking care of" Candy."Is there anything thing else?" he asked sincerely. "Any questions?" Candy looked toward the bar. "Who was that masked woman?" A little over an hour later, Candy was in her fifth floor room, showered and changed into fresh clothes when there was a knock on the door. "Dr. Roberts? Hotel security and housekeeping." George had told Candy that someone would be up to collect her stained clothes. But just the same she peeked out the spy hole. She saw an attractive blonde wearing a light yellow business suit jacket and a someone seemingly from Housekeeping. Slipping the security latch she opened the door. "Dr. Roberts? I'm Roberta Tracy, Mirage Special Security," the blonde stated, extending her arm. "May we come in?" Candy shook the proffered hand and invited the pair into her room, and handed her stained suit to the housekeeper when bidden by Roberta. "Don't worry, Dr. Our in house dry cleaner is well experienced in making clothes like new," Roberta explained with a warm smile. "Please call me Candy, I save Doctor for work." "Bobbie is what friends call me. Please feel free." She excused the housekeeper. "We'll have you suit ready first thing in the morning. I could use another minute or two of your time, if you don't mind." The two women walked farther into the room with Candy offering Bobbie a seat. When Bobbie pulled out a chair from the small table, Candy sat in the padded easy chair. "First off," Bobbie started, "I want to offer you my personal apology for what happened on the floor." A mild shrug of the shoulders started Candy's reply. "It's not like it was your fault." She was slightly surprised by the chuckle from her guest. "You're right of course. However we feel responsible for everything our guests may experience, good or bad, while visiting. And occasionally some of the more unsavory types get physical." Thinking about that for a second, Candy replied, "I can see that. But what's the deal with that gal in the suit?" Then Candy mentally flashed to all the costumed heroines with whom she had dealt over the years. After all Duster had caused her own share of damages as well. Bobbie gave a chuckle as she answered. "Sable is a local bounty hunter with a flair for the dramatic. She's put plenty of bad guys behind bars and has had enough press coverage she feels her face might be too well known. But enough about her." She paused and looked Candy straight in the eyes. "Your entire stay here is being comped. All food and drinks, all drinks, are courtesy of The Mirage and Mr. Wynn, the owner." Bobbie handed a plastic card to Candy. The card was credit card sized, embossed with the Mirage Logo and, surprisingly, "Dr. Candace Roberts" along with a live signature of Steve Wynn. Bobbie explained, "You can either do a room charge or present this anywhere on the property for anything you want. Our compliments." Candy was genuinely surprised and grateful. This was way beyond anything she had expected. "Well, gosh, Thanks. Thank you so much." For whatever reason Candy was beginning to like this Bobbie Tracy. "You are welcome." There was a slight pause. "I have other business to which I must attend. However, I have to be a little honest here. Our breakfast choices are lacking and not the best. If you'd like, I can get you into our executives' dining room tomorrow morning." There was a quizzical smile on Bobbie's face. Quickly Candy sized up her options, eating alone, or, possibly worse, some one from the conference would want to sit and talk business. "OK, Bobbie. Things kick off at 8, so is 7 alright?" Shortly after 7 AM the next morning Candy was seated with Bobbie in the Executive Dining room, which was located on the third floor amidst the corporate office space for The Mirage Hotel and Casino, which when opened in 1989, almost 13 years ago, it was the most expensive hotel/casino, built at a cost $630 million and was the largest hotel in the world. Candy was surprised by the fact that while the room was large it seemed intimate with the dark wood paneling and the high light colored ceiling. The tables were covered with spotless table cloths, with china table settings, crystal drinkware, heavy cloth napkins and real silver silverware. The menu offerings were extensive and, not surprisingly, bore no prices. Candy took in all the surroundings, not really sure if she was, in fact, having a dream. Perhaps when knocked to the floor she had suffered a concussion. Her day had started off well enough when Bobbie showed up right at 7 AM, with her freshly dry cleaned suit. It was immaculate and she could hardly believed her eyes. Shortly after they had placed their orders a handsome woman of an indeterminate age wearing an expensive tailored business suit approached their table. Bobbie seemed to know her. "Excuse me," she began, "I am Elaine Wynn. You must be Dr. Roberts, of course." Her tone was warm and welcoming. She and Bobbie exchanged short pleasantries. For her part Candy was almost stunned. The wife of the owner had come over to meet her. Mrs. Wynn put a hand on Bobbie's shoulder. "I trust Roberta is taking good care of you." Candy could only nod and mutter a response. Immediately she felt embarrassed for her awkwardness. Turning to address Bobbie, Mrs Wynn said, "We've put two VIP seats for Siegfried and Roy on reserve for the rest of week," she turned to Candy. "If you'd like to see them." When Candy remained silent Mrs. Wynn finished, "If there is anything you need while here, if Roberta is unavailable, just pick up any house phone, give the operator your name and ask for Steve or myself." With that she turned and walked off. The rest of the breakfast was taken up with general small talk, mostly about life in Las Vegas. Bobbie did not talk much about what she did at The Mirage and changed the subject if Candy asked about Sable. However, Candy did enjoy hearing the behind the scenes stories Bobbie had from her time as a stunt woman. All too soon Tuesday's breakfast was over and Candy headed off for the conference. Before they went their separate ways the women did agree to meet for drinks after Candy was done for the day. Bobbie promised that the odds of Sable knocking her over again would be extremely high. Candy was not sure if she was relieved or disappointed. By Wednesday evening Candy was glad that tomorrow was going to be the conference's last day, and a short day, wrapping up at lunch time. Some attendees would be leaving Thursday night with most opting to fly out Friday morning. She did on a professional level gain satisfaction at being immersed in the environmental sciences for the week, but she was going to miss spending time with Bobbie Tracy. It was unusual for her to make friends outside of the superheroine community. She had taken to Bobbie as a kindred spirit of sorts, maybe a sister. Yet, save for breakfast and "after work" drinks the two had not been together all that much, however, it seemed to Candy that an invitation to dinner may have been taken the wrong way. She wasn't sure exactly why she thought that, but decided she would not ask Bobbie, instead she would wait to see if she asked. After a few minutes lost in thought Candy noticed that Bobbie was not at the bar. She debated calling or paging her but decided against it. Surely Bobbie was busy as the Head of Special Security Operations, whatever that entailed. She was just about to leave when Bobbie rushed up to the bar. "Sorry. Something came up and I had a hard time getting away." Smiling inwardly, Candy thought that Bobbie sounded like her when Duster was responsible for Dr. Roberts missing appointments and the like. When Bobbie had ordered her usual Blanton's on the rocks she looked at Candy and seemed to become serious. "There's a couple of things I want to run by you. First, I want you to know that anytime you and your boyfriend would like a really nice, special romantic getaway, please call me. I'll set you up for a time you won't forget. And don't worry about the price." "This week has been pretty memorable already, and I haven't done anything all that special." Bobbie smiled. "There's one more thing to ask. Can you extend your stay one more day?" Bobbie not as sure of herself as she had been ever since Candy first met her. "If you can wait until Saturday morning, Steve and Elaine are flying to Canada on the corporate jet to talk to people with something called the Circus of the Sun about doing one of their shows in Las Vegas. Anyway Elaine mentioned to me that they would be glad to drop you off. Your city is right along the flight path, so why no? Stunned and overwhelmed almost described how Candy felt at hearing that offer. There was one thing she had to know. "Not to sound ungrateful, Bobbie, but does everyone who gets a tray of drinks spilled on them and knocked to the floor get all this?" "Ahhh," Bobbie hesitated before replying. "Honestly? No, but," there came another pause. "Ya see, when Sable is the, ah, cause... Well, she and the Wynns are concerned about bad publicity, law suits and the like. So, they have this relationship and understanding and someone like you gets treated like royalty." Nodding her understanding Candy asked, "Cheaper than a lawsuit, eh?" "That and maybe there might that feeling of gratitude towards us." Bobbie continued in a hushed conspiratorial tone. "Truth is when you leave, regardless of how or when, we will have spent less than 1% of the daily take from one Blackjack table. An advantage of not being owned by a huge corporation, Steve can pretty much spend as he sees fit as long at the end of the day the property is in the black." Normally Candy was quick to make decisions but the information had taken her aback somewhat. However..."Well, if The Mirage doesn't mind spending the money, guess another day and a free plane flight back home sounds too good to pass up." Bobbie was positively beaming at hearing that. "Great!" She held up her glass for a toast. "Cheers!" After they took a last swig from their glasses Candy did have another question. "So, I'm guessing you had something in mind for Friday?" "This Friday is my monthly 'me day' here. Two hours in the morning relaxing at The Spa, not a very original name, then soaking up some rays, swimming a few laps and lunch at the pool, away from most prying eyes. Then back to The Spa for the full beauty saloon treatment. You are more than welcome to join me." A day of being pampered? "I have to get a bathing suit," Candy tried not to sound too lame. "Oh, Candy," Bobbie said giving a sad shake of her head. "You must bring a suit anytime you come to Vegas. But... I didn't say which pool, did I?" There was an unmistakable mischievous grin on Bobbie. Upon hearing the pool's name, Candy motioned the bartender over. "I'll take a Blanton's, rocks. Better make it a double."CREDITS: The title drawing of Roberta Tracy was rendered by Member 9. Duster/Dr. Candace "Candy" Roberts is the OC of Dangerguy01 and used with his permission. Sable/Roberta "Bobbie" Tracy is my OC. Use only with permission.This a work of fiction. All person or persons, places, locations, and businesses are fictitious. Any similarities to any person,persons, places, locations, or businesses, real or imaginary, living or dead, are purely coincidental.... A Much Needed ME DayThanks to her Sinanju training Sable was able to race up the 24 flights of stairs despite being mentally exhausted and more than a bit tired this Friday morning. In addition to being a bounty hunter and costumed crime fighter she was the main supporter of a domestic violence shelter set up for exotic dancers and befriended many of the girls who seldom had someone to which they could turn for help. In was in that latter role which resulted in the disastrous last 12 hours. What should have been a great girls' night out with a couple of local friends and a new friend was interrupted by a desperate phone call from a dancer whose boyfriend had turned violent upon learning that she was pregnant. At the hospital Sable was angered and appalled over the extent of the girl's injuries. Not only had Linda suffered a concussion, broken jaw, broken fingers, and cracked ribs, she had been repeatedly hit in the abdomen and suffered a miscarriage. Sable had to dig deep into her training to keep her rage from boiling over. She hoped, against the norm, that she found the animal before Las Vegas Metro did. After arranging with the Desert Springs Hospital staff to make sure all medical bills would be covered, Sable sprang into action, contacting her network of "eyes" to alert her if Sonny showed his face in town. Shortly after 10:30 PM she received word that he had just entered The Montecito on the south end of The Strip. Blasting her Z28 around and through the side streets Sable sped up and into the valet area, skidded to a halt, then leapt out of the T-tops and over her car, and running into the main casino entrance. However, just inside the doors she was intercepted by Danny McCoy, head of Montecito security. He tried to calm her down explaining that Sonny was in The House of Blues bar, being watched and that Metro was enroute. "To hell with that!" she exclaimed, roughly shoving Danny aside, almost knocking him to the ground, then she rushed toward the House of Blues. Sonny was sitting with his back to the doors. Sable solidly tapped him on the shoulder. Snarling, he turned around as she asked, "You like hitting women?" "What's it to you, bitch?" "What?" "I said. what's it to --- ARRHH!" Sable used the extended locked finger technique to drive deep into his solar plexus, doubling him over in pain. She then grabbed his shirt collar and belt, effortlessly lifting him over her head and throwing him through the air, and out of the doors, which were torn from their hinges. With a loud thud and a shaking floor Sonny landed painfully on his back. He yelled out, "You cunt!" More enraged than she had ever been, Sable grabbed both ankles and then shook Sonny as if he were a blanket. Naturally breaking both his ankles in the process. As she bent down to grab him again a hapless Montecito security guard tried to grab her. The guard heard Danny shout "No!" as Sable flipped the guard ass end over teacups and he crashed into a gift shop display rack. The agitated bounty hunter grabbed Sonny's right arm and gave it a violent twist. SNAP! The shoulder was dislocated and possibly broken. The elbow and wrist were obviously broken. Oblivious to her surroundings, Sable grabbed his shirt with her left hand, then drew back a very clenched right fist. A fine red mist started to show in Sable's vision and her right arm was visibly shaking. She was ready and able to strike a killing blow to put down the animal who had put her friend in the hospital. "Sable!" She barely registered the shout. "SABLE!" Something deep inside her mind told her to look at the person yelling her name. "Mr. Deline?" Sable was surprised to see Ed Deline, President and CEO of The Montecito standing there and quite upset. Sable was fearless but a mad Ed Deline frightened her. "Let him go," Deline stated in a controlled tone that belied his anger. When Sable complied he continued, "Don't ever set foot on my property again. And that goes for that lady lapdog Wynn sends around to deal with your messes. We'll take of this." He turned to Danny. "Get her out of here." When Sable turned to follow the Montecito's security chief he instructed her, "We can't go out front. Metro's pulling up." He headed towards the service doors in the shopping area. Following Danny through the doors Sable whispered, "Mike Cannon protocol 3," into the sleeve of her left glove. "Tell Mike to move Silver," she advised Danny. Cannon was only 1 of 4 other people who had limited access to her special Z28. The fingerprint scanner in the door handle would allow him to guide her car to secure parking, which would then transform into a plain base Camaro when he left. Halfway down the hall Danny stopped and spoke to her, "Sable, you may have screwed the pooch on this one." She just gave him a blank stare. "That was flat out assault. I've already told Mitch to scrub the tapes. But..." There was a personal problem with which Sable was dealing, unknown to anyone. Whenever she got really angry, almost Hulk angry, she became sexually aroused, extremely aroused. She looked at Danny. "Guess I'm gonna owe you. Big time," she said in a soft seductive voice. That got Danny's attention. "Yeah, well, Ed will calm down in a week or so, especially if Delinda speaks to him." The truth about Ed and Sable was that he felt a deep debt of gratitude to her. Two months ago she had prevented the kidnapping of Deline's wife, Julienne, and daughter, Delinda. "We are going to have to keep you out of sight, at least until we're sure Metro has gone." Moving in close to Danny, Sable asked softly, "You got some place in mind?" In a few short minutes they were in a lower floor VIP suite, with Sable ripping off Danny's coat and shirt. As he moved in to kiss her, she stopped him. "Couple of things. One, no kissing. Two, no man puts me on my back. And, three, I take my mask off for no one, ever." Danny smiled. "I'm good with that." What followed was four hours of the purest animalistic, unbridled lustful sex Danny McCoy had ever experienced. He was soundly passed out when Sable slipped away. Now, here she was, standing in her bathroom, contemplating the events of last night, trying to understand why she had so lost control dealing with the human filth who had brutally beaten a helpless woman. She also knew she had an hour to get ready to meet her new friend. Staring at her reflection in the mirror, Sable slowly pulled down her mask and asked herself, "Bobbie, what did you get yourself into?" Several floors lower in The Mirage Hotel and Casino, another woman was pondering the events of her own from last night. Dr. Candace Roberts was supposed to meet her new friend, Bobbie Tracy, and a couple of her showgirl friends for a girls' night out at Chippendales. Introductions had been made and they were ready to enter one of The Mirage's limos when Bobbie received a phone call, which visibly upset her. Excusing herself and brushing aside Candy's questions, she bade the girls to have a good time. The remaining girls piled into the limo and as it pulled away Candy asked, "Does she do that often?" Sarah chuckled, "Yeah, kinda. But she stills picks up the entire check, so...?" At the male strip Candy surprised herself at how quickly she joined in with the girls in the hooting and hollering at the male strippers and the blatant sexual remarks. She surmised that it may have had something to do with the copious amounts of bourbon and champagne. Several times during the night Candy noticed that the braless Brittney had become visibly turned on by more than one male dancer. When she and Brit made a shared trip to the restroom Candy couldn't contain herself, "Can I ask you a personal question? I know we just met and all." The showgirl gave a go ahead shrug. "I had this impression that you showgirls were more interested in, ah, you know..." "Just other women?" Brit finished for her. "This is the whole truth and nothing but the truth. Every showgirl and guy on stage in Vegas shares one thing in common." She paused for effect. "We all adore and love MEN!" With that the two women shared a laugh. Room service arrived with Candy's breakfast of a yogurt and granola parfait, freshly squeezed orange juice, and strong black coffee. Reflecting again on last night she was very much looking forward to seeing her boyfriend Bill once back home. Then she wondered what this, her last full day in Las Vegas, would hold. Promptly at 9:30 AM Bobbie called on Candy and they headed to the aptly named The Spa for pampering. Earlier Bobbie had explained that the marketing team had found out that regardless of whatever name was applied to an in house spa, the guests and customers always said that they were going to "the spa," so why not simply give it that name. Exiting the elevators the girls made the same right turn Candy had made for the last four days to head to the conference meeting rooms. Only this time the walk was very short to The Spa. The girls settled into the steam room. Candy was relieved to see that they were the only two in the room. She had also noticed that Bobbie was uncharacteristically quiet this morning. She had to ask. "So, how did things work out last night? We missed you." Bobbie shrugged her shoulders. "It was just business, nothing exciting, nothing to chat about." Searching for another topic for conversation, Candy started, "Hey, saw something on the news about your friend Sable-" "She's not my friend!" was the curt interruption. "Sorry, Candy. I'm tense. Which is why I spend Fridays here and I usually don't have company. So you were saying? I didn't hear about it." Accepting the explanation and apology, Candy continued. "Some kind of fight, she beat up a guy pretty bad apparently. He's wanting her charged with aggravated assault. The cop on TV said the guy was being charged with attempted murder on his girlfriend and the investigation was on going." "Then the asshat probably got what he deserved." Bobbie took a deep breath, then looked directly at Candy. "Let me tell you something." Candy gave Bobbie her attention. Taking her towel, Bobbie wiped down her hair before saying. "This steam makes my hair all frizzled and curly. Your ponytail is perfect." Then she leaned back against the wall. Candy took the cue that the subject was changed and sat back as well. A deep and through massage followed. Candy had not realized how invigorating and relaxing an expert massage could be. When finished they changed back into their simple sweat suits and walked the short distance to the pool Bobbie had told her about on Wednesday. The discret frosted glass door bore the simple legend "BARE" as that was the name for the no clothing allowed pool at The Mirage. Bobbie swiped her all access key-card for entry. The very young, fit and attractive female attendant greeted them from the desk. "Good morning, Ms Tracy. And Dr. Roberts, welcome to Bare. Ms Tracy I have stalls 7 and 8 for you." They walked down the hall and the attendant buzzed them into the rooms. Candy almost laughed. They would not be called changing rooms as they were not changing into anything. Maybe disrobing rooms would be appropriate. A minute later a nude Bobbie led a nude Candy around the corner to the pool area, which was larger than Candy had imagined. She was grateful for the high walls and the privacy awning that kept prying eyes from the higher floors at bay. Approaching their assigned lounge chairs a waitress, also young, fit and attractive, greeted them. "Bourbon and branch water for both of you," the waitress said, setting the glasses on the table. "I ordered ahead," Bobbie explained. The waitress informed them that the buffet would be ready shortly. When their server walked away Candy and Bobbie took their drinks and leaned back on the chairs. Bobbie then said, "I'm sorry I'm not very good company today." "It's ok. We all have off days. And this is a day off. For both of us." Bobbie looked over and raised her glass. "A toast. To making new friends." Smiling back, Candy replied, "Making new good friends." Knocking back the bourbon faster than they should have, Bobbie signalled for another round. As Candy felt the warmth of the bourbon spread over her she knew that one thing was certain. Bill and her were going to take up the offer of the romantic weekend getaway. What happens in Vegas indeed.... What Happened in Vegas? Part 1Part One: Back in Sin City The sun was just beginning to break over the mountains east of the Las Vegas valley on what promised to be another clear sunny day in mid October. The light bathed the rooms of every high rise hotel and casino property along the famous Strip. With very few exceptions, the heavy dark curtains were drawn shut in those hotel rooms. Many visitors to Sin City stayed up through most of the night, gambling, drinking, and carousing in the true city that never sleeps. Those revelers dreaded the coming mornings. With the breaking daylight air traffic around Mc Carran International Airport picked up, averaging a plane landing or taking off every two minutes, as they brought in a new crop of visitors and returned others home, usually with lighter wallets or lowered bank balances. Helicopters for Maverick Air Tours began their flight checks and took off on runs to pick up tourists in and around the Grand Canyon area. The morning sunlight added to the whiteness of the towers of The Mirage Hotel and Casino especially. Rooms with a “Strip View” commanded a premium, not for the beautiful sunrises, but for the night time explosion of garish neon and LED lighting displays. As the natural light replaced the artificial light the effect was almost sad and depressing, the true nature of Vegas became exposed, all flash with nothing of substance. Room 2475 in The Mirage had a view toward the still open expanse of the western valley, the preferred vista for the sole occupant. Not to avoid the sunrise, for she was awake every day 30 minutes before the sky lightened, regardless of the varying times or when she went to bed. Part of her morning ritual was to stand naked in front of the floor to ceiling picture window then engage in special stretching and breathing routines that were unique to the ancient Sinanju disciplines. Finishing that part of her workout Roberta Tracy, slipped on an old lose fitting T-shirt and gym shorts. Then she called the number for employees' room service to order her breakfast of steel cut oatmeal, cooked in milk, a bowl of strawberries, and a pot of coffee, very strong. While waiting for her food Bobbie, as she preferred to be called, began the second part of her morning exercises. Fridays consisted of Bobbie running down the twenty four flights of stairs from her floor to the main level, running back up from there, and when she reached the top she ran backwards down the stairs. For her second trip up the stairs she did a head stand then walked on her hands up the twenty four flights. She rounded out the routine by doing forward flips down the hall and back flips returning to her room. There was a soft knock at the double doors, Maria had arrived with breakfast. “Good morning, Miss Bobbie,” was her usual greeting. “How are you today, Maria?” Bobbie asked, genuinely concerned about the attendant whom she had known since becoming a full time resident of the large two bedroom suite almost one year ago. “Very good, thank you, Miss Bobbie.” There was a slight hesitation as the plates were placed on the glass topped table. “I am wanting to ask a favor, please.” When signaled to proceed she said, “Monday is my Juan's tenth birthday. He is the big fan of Miss Sable.” A smile started to grow on Bobbie as the attendant bashfully continued, “It is said that you are a friend of hers, no?” “I don't know about that, but I do run into her more than most.” “Would you, do you think you could get an autographed picture of her for my Juan?” A warm reassuring smile was given to Maria as Bobbie replied, “That should be OK. One will be here tomorrow or Sunday morning.” “Thank you. Thank you, Miss Bobbie,” effused the attendant as she let herself out of the room. That simple request added another bit of brightness on what was to be a great day. Bobbie Tracy, the head of Special Security Operations for The Mirage, was also the alter ego of Sable, costumed crime fighter and bounty hunter operating in the greater Las Vegas area. Bobbie was always pleasantly surprised discovering the depth and range of Sable's fans. However, the main highlight for the day was that one of the aircraft winging in from the east had a special pair of passengers. A friend Bobbie had made last May, Dr. Candace Roberts, and her boyfriend, William MacIntyre. Bobbie had extended the offer of a romantic weekend getaway before Candy had left in May and now Candy and Bill were flying in for that very reason. Shortly after 10 AM Bobbie slipped on a pair of hip huger jeans and a bare midriff tied top. She checked her hair and put on her lightly tinted glasses, then left her room and rode down to the lobby level in the service elevator just outside her door. There was a slight surge of anticipation as Bobbie, standing just outside the main hotel entrance, saw one of the white Mirage Escalades pull up the drive and stop. A doorman opened the rear passenger door and out stepped- “Candy!” gushed Bobbie as she stepped up to greet her friend and guest. They shared a cursory hug before she noticed that Candy was alone. “Where's Bill? Coming later?” Before answering, Candy exhaled a deep sigh, adjusted her glasses, and gave her head a little shake, tossing her pony tail side to side. “It was unbelievable. Just as your driver was opening the door for us, Bill's business phone went off. He insisted that I go ahead and that he would try to get here if he could. I wasn't sure that I wanted to, but he insisted. He knew how much I was looking forward to seeing you again.” Bobbie gave Candy a reassuring pat on her shoulder, feeling the sadness for her friend's disappointment. “Am I to guess this happens...?” “More than I like, but it happens.” Knowing not to ask questions about Candy's boyfriend's business, Bobbie took her by the arm and guided her into the lobby area, turning right, stopping after a few feet. “I'm going to change your room. Probably be worse if you stayed where I had you booked,” Bobbie explained. “Will only take a couple of minutes.” She turned to her left and signaled to John, tending the Lobby Bar. “Anything my friend wants.” “It's early, isn't it?” came the weak protest. “This is Vegas, time is only a frame of mind,” began Bobbie. “Besides, it should be after twelve o'clock at home and you've been up how long?” Relenting, Candy ordered a screwdriver, thinking that she might as well have some orange juice at least. The VIP check-in was directly across from the Lobby Bar and Bobbie walked right in. Besides canceling the room there was no need for the roses, chocolates, and champagne. In a few minutes she rejoined her friend at the bar. “Got you a room on the same floor as mine, just a few doors down,” the security head explained. “Your bags are on the way up now.” “I still can't believe you live here.” Candy took the last swallow of her drink. “You want to have one with me?” Bobbie nodded yes and called for two more. When the fresh drinks arrived Candy took a long look at her new friend. “I like your outfit, but not your usual business attire, is it?” “My work day starts at two today. No sense getting too dolled up before then.” She paused for a second. “Actually, I've got a meeting with some other security types at The Montecito at 2:30. Why don't you come along and you can check it out.” “Are you sure? I don't want to be in the way.” Reassuring her that she would not be in the way in any way, Bobbie finished her drink. “C'mon,” Bobbie started, standing up, “Let's get you up to your room.” As they started into the Atrium to make their way to the elevators, Bobbie stopped suddenly. “This is rare. Not many people. Hold on.” She pulled a Minolta digital camera from a pocket and called one of the bell hops over. “Get a picture of us, would you?” Candy was a tad hesitant, before Bobbie explained. “I don't have one of you and you can have something to show Bill what he's missing.” Thanking the bell hop the girls headed through the Atrium, onto the casino floor and towards the elevators. As they approached the recessed elevator foyer it was Candy's turn to stop. “Would it be weird to see the room you had for us?” she asked softly. “Not at all,” Bobbie quickly replied. “Follow me.” With that they turned left and walked down the wide hallway and went past the entrance for Bare, the all nude pool where they had spent their last Friday in May. Candy had to ask, “This is Friday. What about your “me day?” “Took it yesterday.” Heading outside the west side doors they walked through a lush garden area and stopped at Villa number four. Bobbie produced her all access key-card, sliding it into the slot. Immediately the green light showed and they walked inside. For her part Candy was awestruck, stopping just inside the doorway, trying to take in the sight that greeted her. Taking a quick look to her left she saw the largest bathroom she had ever seen. The bedroom was equally impressive in size, as was the sitting area, with the large screen television, and obligatory wet bar, well stocked naturally. The dining room was very large, containing elegant chairs around the large wooden table. “This is as big as my house!” Candy exclaimed. “Maybe bigger.” Then something caught her eye, a full kitchen, complete with refrigerator, range/stove unit, dual sinks, and dishwasher. “Wait. All of this and we're expected to cook?” The reaction was common. Bobbie gave Candy a quick one armed hug on her shoulders. “This villa suite comes with, not only a 24 hour valet to see to your every need, but with a chef to prepare any meal you may want while staying here.” Then Bobbie had an idea. “Why don't I take of picture of you here. Bill can really see what he missed.” “Yeah, might serve him right at that.” Ten minutes later Candy had finished up seeing all she could see, including the private garden patio just outside the bedroom. As they left she spotted the legally required room rate card affixed to the double doors. She almost whistled at the price. Shortly after leaving the villa the girls arrived at room 2470,Candy's room for the weekend. Bobbie handed Candy the key-card after unlocking the door. “I'm just down the hall in 2475,” Bobbie advised as they entered. The room was larger than the one in which Candy had stayed during her May conference trip and seemed to have nicer appointments. Bobbie walked over to the picture window, opening the drapes. “You have a view of the Strip and of the volcano. From up here it's quite the show.” Candy sat on the edge of the king sized bed and exhaled another long sigh. “Hey, what's with the sigh?” Bobbie asked sitting down in the easy chair. “You're really upset about Bill?” “Yeah, but that's not all of it.” Taking a deep breath to compose herself Candy continued. “It's, I don't know. I don't want to appear to be ungrateful or unappreciative. That villa was $6,000 a night. I know we're friends, but, really not for that long. That seems way above what the Wynns or you or Sable might feel is owed just for knocking me to the ground. It's almost like there's a catch or something.” She had an embarrassed look that was plain to see. Leaning forward, The Mirage's special security chief put her hands on her knees then began, “Here's a little secret. We never charge anybody one dime for those villas, that rate card is for the IRS and Nevada hotel laws. Only invited guests are given those. Truth is that this time of year they usually sit empty. Steve knows I only ask the rare special people to stay.” “About that,” Candy was clearly not as ease. “I like you and all that but...” “I don't want to bore you about my life,” Bobbie started, then leaned back in the chair. “I grew up in a remote, very isolated village and had no childhood friends. My parents were killed when I was five.” She waited as Candy gave the usual emphatic condolences. “So I seem to make friends easily now. Plus there was just something I sensed about you. An aura, I don't know. Your intelligence, bearing, demeanor, sense of strength. I just knew we'd be friends. I only have one other really good friend. She's a retired astronaut.” Giving a small laugh as she continued, “If I can't treat my friends to a really good time as a perk of this job, what's the point?” Candy took another deep breath. “OK, I get all that. But, I'm not... are you... do you?” Clearly she was uncomfortable. A full throat laugh escaped from Bobbie. “Oh, Candy! Candy, Candy.” A broad smile was given to her friend. “You know you're beautiful. But, well, there is nothing like chin stubble rubbing the bottom of my breasts, or between my thighs. No substitute for the one thing men are good for.” Candy laughed along with her friend. “I feel exactly the same way.”... What Happened in Vegas? Part 2Part 2: Cheating at Craps? Promptly at 2 PM Candy knocked on the double doors of room 2475, as she and Bobbie had arranged earlier. After showering she had changed into a light colored blouse, check patterned lose pants and very comfortable shoes, a must for a serious Vegas trip. She had found out in May that non-gaming, non-drinking seats were at a minimum and lots of walking was involved almost everywhere. The left door swung open and Bobbie greeted her friend. “Hey, let's go. I'd show you around my pad but traffic is a bear on Friday afternoons.” Candy noticed that Bobbie had changed into her more business-like attire, dark blue blouse, matching skirt and her dark yellow jacket. One thing seemed out of place. “You're wearing your heels?” “I feel naked without them. And I'm used to them.” As Candy turned to head down the hall for the main elevator lobby, Bobbie corrected her. “No, other way. I use the service elevator. Almost like an express.” Upon arriving she pushed the call button and explained, “Coming up on the guest elevators isn't too bad, normally, but going down it seems you stop on every floor. And the early check-ins are mostly on the upper floors.” Candy nodded her understanding. She knew that the hotel had 8 main guest elevators, two banks of four, that faced each other in the recessed foyer tucked away between the casino floor and the walkway to the shops, pools, and meeting areas. The first pair on either side ran from the casino level to the floors up to the fourteenth floor. The back pair ran from the fifteenth floor to the twenty sixth. At check-in and check-out times that foyer could get crowded with the guests and their luggage carts. It was nice to be in the company of someone who knew her way around. The pair exited the hotel from out of the bell hop door and into the far end of the registration parking area. A white Mirage Escalade was waiting, with the driver standing by the rear door. He greeted them as “Ms Tracey.” and “Dr. Roberts.” As Candy climbed in and sat in the leather seat she thought that she might become accustomed to the VIP treatment. The SUV limo pulled out of the drive and onto the fabled Las Vegas Strip, heading south toward their destination, The Montecito Resort and Casino. “Normally when I drive I take the side streets,” Bobbie explained as Candy looked out at the edifices at some of the most expensive hotel properties in the world. “But I do like the energy of the Strip and I knew you'd like to take it in.” After her visit in May Candy had done some reading on the history of the desert oasis and its nickname “Lost Wages.” Indeed Vegas was a dusty out of the way little town that looked like a back-lot set for a Hollywood western, complete with legal gambling. Then in 1945 infamous mob hitman Bugsy Siegel, looking to add to the fortune made during Prohibition and to take advantage of the post World War II prosperity made a fateful decision to make Las Vegas a major base of operations and money center for the Jewish and Italian-American crime families. A decision that led to his 1947 murder due to his Flamingo Hotel being a financial failure. After other hotels were built with amenities to keep gamblers happy and distracted from their losses the money started flowing in faster than anyone had thought possible. Until the mid-nineties the town had been built, expanded, and developed almost entirely by money lost on the table games and one armed bandits. The rooms, food, and shows from top headliners, like the Frank Sinatra led Rat Pack, were either loss leaders or broke even at best. In the wake of Lefty Rosenthal being forced to cede control of The Stardust in 1986, officially the mob no longer openly ran the gaming mecca of the United States. From that point on more and more of the profits in town came from diversified areas such as the hotel operations separate from the casinos, shopping, and destination attractions. “I asked if you wanted to know a little something about the meeting,” Bobbie repeated, breaking Candy's daydreaming. “Sure,” the distracted passenger replied. “But I though it might be some big top secret Vegas stuff." “More or less. During the last two weeks we noticed a loss pattern at the craps tables that is not normal. While craps, along with Blackjack, has the best odds for the player, the house still makes money.” “The house is not there to give money away,” Candy said to show her understanding. “We don't mind, as long as the rules are followed. Rules to protect the house and player alike.” Bobbie then went on to explain that craps, with its many betting options and almost non-stop action, was ripe for common scams like stealing other players' chips, under-payouts, and over-payouts. This scheme was different. Five, maybe six, players seemed to win on every roll of the dice, regardless of the bet or at which table they played. Representatives of the affected properties, Bellagio, Bally's, Montecito, and of course Mirage, were meeting to share intelligence and ideas about the apparent scam. The Escalade arrived as Bobbie was finishing. The Montecito was on the east side of Strip at the southern end, just past The Tropicana and across from the newly opened Mandalay Bay. Candy was impressed by the size and sense of luxury given off in the main entrance area. She was even more impressed when two bellhops opened each rear door to allow the girls to exit without sliding across the seat. The pair was greeted by a pair from the Montecito, Bobbie shaking hands with both, as she made the introductions. “Danny, Mary, this is my good friend, Dr. Candace Roberts, visiting for the weekend. Candy, this is Danny McCoy, security and surveillance, and Mary Connel, special events, both of Montecito.” Mary explained that she going to show Candy around the property while the others discussed business. Candy expressed her delight and they started off on the tour. Naturally they entered the casino, or properly called, the gaming floor, first. The bright lights were not intrusive nor glaring and the high ceiling, with its multi-colored designs made the area seem quiet and empty despite the crowds at the tables and slot machines. As they passed a row of craps tables Candy asked if Mary could explain that game to her since that seemed to be the focus for the meeting. Mary guided her to a closed table and pointed out the various boxed off areas on the table. Mary gave a condensed version of the different main bets, pass/don't pass, field, come/don't come, the numbers, and explained the all important “come out roll” which set the subsequent action until the shooter 'crapped out” by rolling a 7. As she explained the winning and losing aspects of the come out roll Candy could only think of Fizzbin. Incredibly ninety minutes had passed. During the tour Candy had taken a liking to the down to earth Vegas native who happily answered all her questions and seemed proud of the various features of her property. They rejoined Bobbie and Danny outside the main entrance where the Mirage Escalade was waiting, both rear doors held open. As the limo whisked them back up the Strip Candy had to comment. “Mary was really nice. And Danny, quite the hunk, seemed smitten by you.” A chuckle preceded Bobbie's reply. “When it comes to Danny McCoy and myself, he only wants two things. Me coming to work at The Montecito or getting in my pants. I'm not sure which he wants most.” The two girls shared a laugh. “May I ask how the meeting went?” “You may ask,” replied Bobbie with a grin. “I'll tell you what I can. But let's get back and grab a quick bite and we'll discuss it then.” Back at her home base, Bobbie decided on the buffet, mainly as she was not sure what she wanted and they would not have to wait. She led Candy past the normal queue of customers, giving a friendly smile and wave at the staff. At a table near the dessert bar, Bobbie removed the “Reserved” sign from the placard holder. Seemingly out of nowhere a pleasant attendant arrived with glasses of water and took their drink requests, iced tea for both. A few minutes later the girls returned to the table, Bobbie with a crab salad and Candy with baked cod with lemon sauce with a rice melody for a side. Between forkfuls Bobbie filled Candy in on what she could. There seemed to be three, maybe four people involved. There were faces but no names, yet. However, there was no indication on how they were consistently winning and that the only clue was that they always placed their bets first, regardless of a line or proposition bet. Then Bobbie added that it was very possible for a team to beat the house at Blackjack, not just by counting cards, which was easy to now spot and guard against. If four or five players could sit at the same table they could use basic strategy and simple money management to tip the odds in their favor. One or two of the team might lose money but the winnings of the others would more than make up for it, with the table losing money overall. If someone had figured out a method for a team to beat the house at craps that could make for a fundamental shift in the way Vegas operated gaming. “I had an idea on how to flush them out,” Bobbie said, “But the Gaming Commission would have never allowed it.” Her companion arched her eyebrows to silently ask how. “We cheat,” was the simple reply. “Don't think that for one minute that we can't put in loaded die or some other sneaky ways to make sure they lose. I figured that they'd either get pissed and complain or, better, leave.” “But that would leave open lots of unanswered questions, wouldn't it?” A slow sigh escaped from the mouth of the Special Security Operations head. “Yeah, it would. We really need to figure out the who and how.” She took a deep breath. “All we really seem to be sure of is that no casino employee is involved but that makes it harder actually.” Candy smiled as she offered, “Because most of the surveillance was put in by the mob to stop the dealers, stick men and pit bosses from stealing.” “Wow,” said Bobbie, impressed. “You are smart.” “Mary told me a whole bunch of stuff about the good old days. The mobs ran the town on respect. You respected them and they would respect you by treating you fairly.” Finished with their meal the two walked onto the casino floor. As if on cue Bobbie's radio crackled at her. “We might have two possibles at craps 16,” Bobbie said. “I'm going over there for a discrete look and then head to the monitoring room. You going to be OK on your own?” Shrugging her shoulders, Candy replied, “Sure. Maybe I'll play some Blackjack or craps.” Bobbie gave her a smile, saying, “Be careful.” Then added, good naturedly, “We're not comping your losses.” Candy watched the action at another table and noted when Bobbie headed off the floor. Then she made her way to a craps table with only three other players. She handed the players club card provided by Bobbie to one of the dealers, who in turn handed it to the boxman. The card was scanned and placed in a holder representing her position at the table. She then requested $250, against her account, in $25 chips, the minimum table bet. The shooter was two players to Candy's left. She followed the action as the dice were thrown at the far end of the table from the shooter to where they had to bounce off the bumper before stopping. She would place no bet until the next come out roll, either after the shooter made his point or crapped out. Which came three rolls later. The dealers raked in the chips while the stickman collected the dice, mixing them with 6 other die, the boxman keeping a careful trained eye on the table. When the table was cleared of chips the stickman pushed the eight dice to the next shooter in line, going counterclockwise, the player directly to Candy's left. Making a Place bet on the come out roll Candy won as 11 was rolled. Candy remained a Place bet and won when the shooter established 5 as the point and made the point three rolls later. On the next come out roll 8 was the point but the shooter rolled 7 and crapped out. After the table was cleared it would be Candy's turn to be the shooter. “I'm a little nervous.” Candy made a $25 Place bet, picked up two of the proffered dice, shook them in her right hand, and tossed them to the far end, with an almost imperceptible waggle of her fingers. 7! Winner! Letting the bet ride, Candy threw another 7, followed by a third. A feat not that rare as 7 was the number with the most potential combinations. On her fourth come out roll she established 4 as the point, which she made on the next roll. Then she rolled a 9 on her next roll, another come out roll. Three rolls later she crapped out and had to pass the dice. “Well, that was fun,” Candy said, then asked to cash out. She had almost doubled her initial buy-in. The boxman credited her winnings to her account and wished her luck as he handed her card back. Luck? Luck had nothing to do with it, she silently told herself. All skill, skill uniquely possessed by her. For Dr. Candace Roberts was the alter ego of superheroine Duster, Mistress of the Winds. Her theory had been correct. With subtle changes to the air currents at the table she had been able to roll any number she desired. She was ready. Yes, the same players were still at table 16. It was time to see if she could find the cheaters and teach them a lesson....

Description

Original character of (a.k.a. We Fergie), bounty hunter/superheroine Sable, gets the Dangerguy studio pinup treatment!

Be sure to check out We Fergie's stories featuring Sable and my gal Duster (links below):

Dr. Roberts? I'm Roberta Tracy
Dr. Candace Roberts had just sat through the first day of a four day Environmental Engineering conference being held at The Mirage Hotel and Casino in Las Vegas. Whilst some might not consider spending 4 days in a series of lectures, panels, and seminars much of a vacation, even though located in Sin City, Candy was enjoying the much needed time off from her other vocation, Duster, Mistress of the Winds, a beloved crime fighting superheroine. Fortunately criminals and other assorted evil doers had been inactive allowing her to take some time off from Duster and to stay engaged in her civilian field of study. Plus the middle of May was a good time to be in Vegas before the desert heat settled in. In need of a cooling adult beverage, Candy decided to head to the Center Bar before heading to her room. A couple of Vegas thoughts ran through her mind as she made her way from the conference/meeting area in the northwest side of the building. One was that unlike most casino layouts she did not have to go into the gaming floor to make her way to the elevators. Passing the elevators she almost went to her room first but that was the subject of her second musing, the size of her room, which was much more like other Vegas hotels, not exactly small but just large enough, barely. The theory being that most people should not spend much time in a room, rather they should be out spending money. Lastly was that the free drinks offered to gaming patrons could be quite expensive. Thus her decision to buy one. Passing the last bank of slot machines Candy was caught totally off guard as a cocktail waitress with a full tray violently crashed into her, with both falling to the floor. Then before she could regain her bearings she witnessed a most extraordinary sight. A big brute of a thug landed face down on the floor next to her and the entangled waitress. Then just as suddenly a strangely garbed masked blonde was atop the thug, straddling him, pulling his arms behind him, and putting on flex-cuffs, seemingly produced out of thin air. "You shoulda came along easily when I asked politely," the blonde gloated as she effortlessly lifted the thug to his feet. Helping the waitress up as she herself stood, Candy's first thought was that her new off white business jacket and matching skirt were ruined. Her thoughts were interrupted by rushing hotel security staff. The blonde spoke to one of the newcomers who seemed to be in charge. "George, take care of this young lady," indicating towards Candy. "See that she's taken care of and make sure she gets Ms. Tracy's card." She turned to Candy. "Sorry about the mess," she said in a tone that Candy thought was a touch too glib. And just like that the strange blonde was gone, pushing her captive in front of her. Less than two minutes later, George was finishing up the task of "taking care of" Candy."Is there anything thing else?" he asked sincerely. "Any questions?" Candy looked toward the bar. "Who was that masked woman?" A little over an hour later, Candy was in her fifth floor room, showered and changed into fresh clothes when there was a knock on the door. "Dr. Roberts? Hotel security and housekeeping." George had told Candy that someone would be up to collect her stained clothes. But just the same she peeked out the spy hole. She saw an attractive blonde wearing a light yellow business suit jacket and a someone seemingly from Housekeeping. Slipping the security latch she opened the door. "Dr. Roberts? I'm Roberta Tracy, Mirage Special Security," the blonde stated, extending her arm. "May we come in?" Candy shook the proffered hand and invited the pair into her room, and handed her stained suit to the housekeeper when bidden by Roberta. "Don't worry, Dr. Our in house dry cleaner is well experienced in making clothes like new," Roberta explained with a warm smile. "Please call me Candy, I save Doctor for work." "Bobbie is what friends call me. Please feel free." She excused the housekeeper. "We'll have you suit ready first thing in the morning. I could use another minute or two of your time, if you don't mind." The two women walked farther into the room with Candy offering Bobbie a seat. When Bobbie pulled out a chair from the small table, Candy sat in the padded easy chair. "First off," Bobbie started, "I want to offer you my personal apology for what happened on the floor." A mild shrug of the shoulders started Candy's reply. "It's not like it was your fault." She was slightly surprised by the chuckle from her guest. "You're right of course. However we feel responsible for everything our guests may experience, good or bad, while visiting. And occasionally some of the more unsavory types get physical." Thinking about that for a second, Candy replied, "I can see that. But what's the deal with that gal in the suit?" Then Candy mentally flashed to all the costumed heroines with whom she had dealt over the years. After all Duster had caused her own share of damages as well. Bobbie gave a chuckle as she answered. "Sable is a local bounty hunter with a flair for the dramatic. She's put plenty of bad guys behind bars and has had enough press coverage she feels her face might be too well known. But enough about her." She paused and looked Candy straight in the eyes. "Your entire stay here is being comped. All food and drinks, all drinks, are courtesy of The Mirage and Mr. Wynn, the owner." Bobbie handed a plastic card to Candy. The card was credit card sized, embossed with the Mirage Logo and, surprisingly, "Dr. Candace Roberts" along with a live signature of Steve Wynn. Bobbie explained, "You can either do a room charge or present this anywhere on the property for anything you want. Our compliments." Candy was genuinely surprised and grateful. This was way beyond anything she had expected. "Well, gosh, Thanks. Thank you so much." For whatever reason Candy was beginning to like this Bobbie Tracy. "You are welcome." There was a slight pause. "I have other business to which I must attend. However, I have to be a little honest here. Our breakfast choices are lacking and not the best. If you'd like, I can get you into our executives' dining room tomorrow morning." There was a quizzical smile on Bobbie's face. Quickly Candy sized up her options, eating alone, or, possibly worse, some one from the conference would want to sit and talk business. "OK, Bobbie. Things kick off at 8, so is 7 alright?" Shortly after 7 AM the next morning Candy was seated with Bobbie in the Executive Dining room, which was located on the third floor amidst the corporate office space for The Mirage Hotel and Casino, which when opened in 1989, almost 13 years ago, it was the most expensive hotel/casino, built at a cost $630 million and was the largest hotel in the world. Candy was surprised by the fact that while the room was large it seemed intimate with the dark wood paneling and the high light colored ceiling. The tables were covered with spotless table cloths, with china table settings, crystal drinkware, heavy cloth napkins and real silver silverware. The menu offerings were extensive and, not surprisingly, bore no prices. Candy took in all the surroundings, not really sure if she was, in fact, having a dream. Perhaps when knocked to the floor she had suffered a concussion. Her day had started off well enough when Bobbie showed up right at 7 AM, with her freshly dry cleaned suit. It was immaculate and she could hardly believed her eyes. Shortly after they had placed their orders a handsome woman of an indeterminate age wearing an expensive tailored business suit approached their table. Bobbie seemed to know her. "Excuse me," she began, "I am Elaine Wynn. You must be Dr. Roberts, of course." Her tone was warm and welcoming. She and Bobbie exchanged short pleasantries. For her part Candy was almost stunned. The wife of the owner had come over to meet her. Mrs. Wynn put a hand on Bobbie's shoulder. "I trust Roberta is taking good care of you." Candy could only nod and mutter a response. Immediately she felt embarrassed for her awkwardness. Turning to address Bobbie, Mrs Wynn said, "We've put two VIP seats for Siegfried and Roy on reserve for the rest of week," she turned to Candy. "If you'd like to see them." When Candy remained silent Mrs. Wynn finished, "If there is anything you need while here, if Roberta is unavailable, just pick up any house phone, give the operator your name and ask for Steve or myself." With that she turned and walked off. The rest of the breakfast was taken up with general small talk, mostly about life in Las Vegas. Bobbie did not talk much about what she did at The Mirage and changed the subject if Candy asked about Sable. However, Candy did enjoy hearing the behind the scenes stories Bobbie had from her time as a stunt woman. All too soon Tuesday's breakfast was over and Candy headed off for the conference. Before they went their separate ways the women did agree to meet for drinks after Candy was done for the day. Bobbie promised that the odds of Sable knocking her over again would be extremely high. Candy was not sure if she was relieved or disappointed. By Wednesday evening Candy was glad that tomorrow was going to be the conference's last day, and a short day, wrapping up at lunch time. Some attendees would be leaving Thursday night with most opting to fly out Friday morning. She did on a professional level gain satisfaction at being immersed in the environmental sciences for the week, but she was going to miss spending time with Bobbie Tracy. It was unusual for her to make friends outside of the superheroine community. She had taken to Bobbie as a kindred spirit of sorts, maybe a sister. Yet, save for breakfast and "after work" drinks the two had not been together all that much, however, it seemed to Candy that an invitation to dinner may have been taken the wrong way. She wasn't sure exactly why she thought that, but decided she would not ask Bobbie, instead she would wait to see if she asked. After a few minutes lost in thought Candy noticed that Bobbie was not at the bar. She debated calling or paging her but decided against it. Surely Bobbie was busy as the Head of Special Security Operations, whatever that entailed. She was just about to leave when Bobbie rushed up to the bar. "Sorry. Something came up and I had a hard time getting away." Smiling inwardly, Candy thought that Bobbie sounded like her when Duster was responsible for Dr. Roberts missing appointments and the like. When Bobbie had ordered her usual Blanton's on the rocks she looked at Candy and seemed to become serious. "There's a couple of things I want to run by you. First, I want you to know that anytime you and your boyfriend would like a really nice, special romantic getaway, please call me. I'll set you up for a time you won't forget. And don't worry about the price." "This week has been pretty memorable already, and I haven't done anything all that special." Bobbie smiled. "There's one more thing to ask. Can you extend your stay one more day?" Bobbie not as sure of herself as she had been ever since Candy first met her. "If you can wait until Saturday morning, Steve and Elaine are flying to Canada on the corporate jet to talk to people with something called the Circus of the Sun about doing one of their shows in Las Vegas. Anyway Elaine mentioned to me that they would be glad to drop you off. Your city is right along the flight path, so why no? Stunned and overwhelmed almost described how Candy felt at hearing that offer. There was one thing she had to know. "Not to sound ungrateful, Bobbie, but does everyone who gets a tray of drinks spilled on them and knocked to the floor get all this?" "Ahhh," Bobbie hesitated before replying. "Honestly? No, but," there came another pause. "Ya see, when Sable is the, ah, cause... Well, she and the Wynns are concerned about bad publicity, law suits and the like. So, they have this relationship and understanding and someone like you gets treated like royalty." Nodding her understanding Candy asked, "Cheaper than a lawsuit, eh?" "That and maybe there might that feeling of gratitude towards us." Bobbie continued in a hushed conspiratorial tone. "Truth is when you leave, regardless of how or when, we will have spent less than 1% of the daily take from one Blackjack table. An advantage of not being owned by a huge corporation, Steve can pretty much spend as he sees fit as long at the end of the day the property is in the black." Normally Candy was quick to make decisions but the information had taken her aback somewhat. However..."Well, if The Mirage doesn't mind spending the money, guess another day and a free plane flight back home sounds too good to pass up." Bobbie was positively beaming at hearing that. "Great!" She held up her glass for a toast. "Cheers!" After they took a last swig from their glasses Candy did have another question. "So, I'm guessing you had something in mind for Friday?" "This Friday is my monthly 'me day' here. Two hours in the morning relaxing at The Spa, not a very original name, then soaking up some rays, swimming a few laps and lunch at the pool, away from most prying eyes. Then back to The Spa for the full beauty saloon treatment. You are more than welcome to join me." A day of being pampered? "I have to get a bathing suit," Candy tried not to sound too lame. "Oh, Candy," Bobbie said giving a sad shake of her head. "You must bring a suit anytime you come to Vegas. But... I didn't say which pool, did I?" There was an unmistakable mischievous grin on Bobbie. Upon hearing the pool's name, Candy motioned the bartender over. "I'll take a Blanton's, rocks. Better make it a double."CREDITS: The title drawing of Roberta Tracy was rendered by Member 9. Duster/Dr. Candace "Candy" Roberts is the OC of Dangerguy01 and used with his permission. Sable/Roberta "Bobbie" Tracy is my OC. Use only with permission.This a work of fiction. All person or persons, places, locations, and businesses are fictitious. Any similarities to any person,persons, places, locations, or businesses, real or imaginary, living or dead, are purely coincidental.... A Much Needed ME DayThanks to her Sinanju training Sable was able to race up the 24 flights of stairs despite being mentally exhausted and more than a bit tired this Friday morning. In addition to being a bounty hunter and costumed crime fighter she was the main supporter of a domestic violence shelter set up for exotic dancers and befriended many of the girls who seldom had someone to which they could turn for help. In was in that latter role which resulted in the disastrous last 12 hours. What should have been a great girls' night out with a couple of local friends and a new friend was interrupted by a desperate phone call from a dancer whose boyfriend had turned violent upon learning that she was pregnant. At the hospital Sable was angered and appalled over the extent of the girl's injuries. Not only had Linda suffered a concussion, broken jaw, broken fingers, and cracked ribs, she had been repeatedly hit in the abdomen and suffered a miscarriage. Sable had to dig deep into her training to keep her rage from boiling over. She hoped, against the norm, that she found the animal before Las Vegas Metro did. After arranging with the Desert Springs Hospital staff to make sure all medical bills would be covered, Sable sprang into action, contacting her network of "eyes" to alert her if Sonny showed his face in town. Shortly after 10:30 PM she received word that he had just entered The Montecito on the south end of The Strip. Blasting her Z28 around and through the side streets Sable sped up and into the valet area, skidded to a halt, then leapt out of the T-tops and over her car, and running into the main casino entrance. However, just inside the doors she was intercepted by Danny McCoy, head of Montecito security. He tried to calm her down explaining that Sonny was in The House of Blues bar, being watched and that Metro was enroute. "To hell with that!" she exclaimed, roughly shoving Danny aside, almost knocking him to the ground, then she rushed toward the House of Blues. Sonny was sitting with his back to the doors. Sable solidly tapped him on the shoulder. Snarling, he turned around as she asked, "You like hitting women?" "What's it to you, bitch?" "What?" "I said. what's it to --- ARRHH!" Sable used the extended locked finger technique to drive deep into his solar plexus, doubling him over in pain. She then grabbed his shirt collar and belt, effortlessly lifting him over her head and throwing him through the air, and out of the doors, which were torn from their hinges. With a loud thud and a shaking floor Sonny landed painfully on his back. He yelled out, "You cunt!" More enraged than she had ever been, Sable grabbed both ankles and then shook Sonny as if he were a blanket. Naturally breaking both his ankles in the process. As she bent down to grab him again a hapless Montecito security guard tried to grab her. The guard heard Danny shout "No!" as Sable flipped the guard ass end over teacups and he crashed into a gift shop display rack. The agitated bounty hunter grabbed Sonny's right arm and gave it a violent twist. SNAP! The shoulder was dislocated and possibly broken. The elbow and wrist were obviously broken. Oblivious to her surroundings, Sable grabbed his shirt with her left hand, then drew back a very clenched right fist. A fine red mist started to show in Sable's vision and her right arm was visibly shaking. She was ready and able to strike a killing blow to put down the animal who had put her friend in the hospital. "Sable!" She barely registered the shout. "SABLE!" Something deep inside her mind told her to look at the person yelling her name. "Mr. Deline?" Sable was surprised to see Ed Deline, President and CEO of The Montecito standing there and quite upset. Sable was fearless but a mad Ed Deline frightened her. "Let him go," Deline stated in a controlled tone that belied his anger. When Sable complied he continued, "Don't ever set foot on my property again. And that goes for that lady lapdog Wynn sends around to deal with your messes. We'll take of this." He turned to Danny. "Get her out of here." When Sable turned to follow the Montecito's security chief he instructed her, "We can't go out front. Metro's pulling up." He headed towards the service doors in the shopping area. Following Danny through the doors Sable whispered, "Mike Cannon protocol 3," into the sleeve of her left glove. "Tell Mike to move Silver," she advised Danny. Cannon was only 1 of 4 other people who had limited access to her special Z28. The fingerprint scanner in the door handle would allow him to guide her car to secure parking, which would then transform into a plain base Camaro when he left. Halfway down the hall Danny stopped and spoke to her, "Sable, you may have screwed the pooch on this one." She just gave him a blank stare. "That was flat out assault. I've already told Mitch to scrub the tapes. But..." There was a personal problem with which Sable was dealing, unknown to anyone. Whenever she got really angry, almost Hulk angry, she became sexually aroused, extremely aroused. She looked at Danny. "Guess I'm gonna owe you. Big time," she said in a soft seductive voice. That got Danny's attention. "Yeah, well, Ed will calm down in a week or so, especially if Delinda speaks to him." The truth about Ed and Sable was that he felt a deep debt of gratitude to her. Two months ago she had prevented the kidnapping of Deline's wife, Julienne, and daughter, Delinda. "We are going to have to keep you out of sight, at least until we're sure Metro has gone." Moving in close to Danny, Sable asked softly, "You got some place in mind?" In a few short minutes they were in a lower floor VIP suite, with Sable ripping off Danny's coat and shirt. As he moved in to kiss her, she stopped him. "Couple of things. One, no kissing. Two, no man puts me on my back. And, three, I take my mask off for no one, ever." Danny smiled. "I'm good with that." What followed was four hours of the purest animalistic, unbridled lustful sex Danny McCoy had ever experienced. He was soundly passed out when Sable slipped away. Now, here she was, standing in her bathroom, contemplating the events of last night, trying to understand why she had so lost control dealing with the human filth who had brutally beaten a helpless woman. She also knew she had an hour to get ready to meet her new friend. Staring at her reflection in the mirror, Sable slowly pulled down her mask and asked herself, "Bobbie, what did you get yourself into?" Several floors lower in The Mirage Hotel and Casino, another woman was pondering the events of her own from last night. Dr. Candace Roberts was supposed to meet her new friend, Bobbie Tracy, and a couple of her showgirl friends for a girls' night out at Chippendales. Introductions had been made and they were ready to enter one of The Mirage's limos when Bobbie received a phone call, which visibly upset her. Excusing herself and brushing aside Candy's questions, she bade the girls to have a good time. The remaining girls piled into the limo and as it pulled away Candy asked, "Does she do that often?" Sarah chuckled, "Yeah, kinda. But she stills picks up the entire check, so...?" At the male strip Candy surprised herself at how quickly she joined in with the girls in the hooting and hollering at the male strippers and the blatant sexual remarks. She surmised that it may have had something to do with the copious amounts of bourbon and champagne. Several times during the night Candy noticed that the braless Brittney had become visibly turned on by more than one male dancer. When she and Brit made a shared trip to the restroom Candy couldn't contain herself, "Can I ask you a personal question? I know we just met and all." The showgirl gave a go ahead shrug. "I had this impression that you showgirls were more interested in, ah, you know..." "Just other women?" Brit finished for her. "This is the whole truth and nothing but the truth. Every showgirl and guy on stage in Vegas shares one thing in common." She paused for effect. "We all adore and love MEN!" With that the two women shared a laugh. Room service arrived with Candy's breakfast of a yogurt and granola parfait, freshly squeezed orange juice, and strong black coffee. Reflecting again on last night she was very much looking forward to seeing her boyfriend Bill once back home. Then she wondered what this, her last full day in Las Vegas, would hold. Promptly at 9:30 AM Bobbie called on Candy and they headed to the aptly named The Spa for pampering. Earlier Bobbie had explained that the marketing team had found out that regardless of whatever name was applied to an in house spa, the guests and customers always said that they were going to "the spa," so why not simply give it that name. Exiting the elevators the girls made the same right turn Candy had made for the last four days to head to the conference meeting rooms. Only this time the walk was very short to The Spa. The girls settled into the steam room. Candy was relieved to see that they were the only two in the room. She had also noticed that Bobbie was uncharacteristically quiet this morning. She had to ask. "So, how did things work out last night? We missed you." Bobbie shrugged her shoulders. "It was just business, nothing exciting, nothing to chat about." Searching for another topic for conversation, Candy started, "Hey, saw something on the news about your friend Sable-" "She's not my friend!" was the curt interruption. "Sorry, Candy. I'm tense. Which is why I spend Fridays here and I usually don't have company. So you were saying? I didn't hear about it." Accepting the explanation and apology, Candy continued. "Some kind of fight, she beat up a guy pretty bad apparently. He's wanting her charged with aggravated assault. The cop on TV said the guy was being charged with attempted murder on his girlfriend and the investigation was on going." "Then the asshat probably got what he deserved." Bobbie took a deep breath, then looked directly at Candy. "Let me tell you something." Candy gave Bobbie her attention. Taking her towel, Bobbie wiped down her hair before saying. "This steam makes my hair all frizzled and curly. Your ponytail is perfect." Then she leaned back against the wall. Candy took the cue that the subject was changed and sat back as well. A deep and through massage followed. Candy had not realized how invigorating and relaxing an expert massage could be. When finished they changed back into their simple sweat suits and walked the short distance to the pool Bobbie had told her about on Wednesday. The discret frosted glass door bore the simple legend "BARE" as that was the name for the no clothing allowed pool at The Mirage. Bobbie swiped her all access key-card for entry. The very young, fit and attractive female attendant greeted them from the desk. "Good morning, Ms Tracy. And Dr. Roberts, welcome to Bare. Ms Tracy I have stalls 7 and 8 for you." They walked down the hall and the attendant buzzed them into the rooms. Candy almost laughed. They would not be called changing rooms as they were not changing into anything. Maybe disrobing rooms would be appropriate. A minute later a nude Bobbie led a nude Candy around the corner to the pool area, which was larger than Candy had imagined. She was grateful for the high walls and the privacy awning that kept prying eyes from the higher floors at bay. Approaching their assigned lounge chairs a waitress, also young, fit and attractive, greeted them. "Bourbon and branch water for both of you," the waitress said, setting the glasses on the table. "I ordered ahead," Bobbie explained. The waitress informed them that the buffet would be ready shortly. When their server walked away Candy and Bobbie took their drinks and leaned back on the chairs. Bobbie then said, "I'm sorry I'm not very good company today." "It's ok. We all have off days. And this is a day off. For both of us." Bobbie looked over and raised her glass. "A toast. To making new friends." Smiling back, Candy replied, "Making new good friends." Knocking back the bourbon faster than they should have, Bobbie signalled for another round. As Candy felt the warmth of the bourbon spread over her she knew that one thing was certain. Bill and her were going to take up the offer of the romantic weekend getaway. What happens in Vegas indeed.... What Happened in Vegas? Part 1Part One: Back in Sin City The sun was just beginning to break over the mountains east of the Las Vegas valley on what promised to be another clear sunny day in mid October. The light bathed the rooms of every high rise hotel and casino property along the famous Strip. With very few exceptions, the heavy dark curtains were drawn shut in those hotel rooms. Many visitors to Sin City stayed up through most of the night, gambling, drinking, and carousing in the true city that never sleeps. Those revelers dreaded the coming mornings. With the breaking daylight air traffic around Mc Carran International Airport picked up, averaging a plane landing or taking off every two minutes, as they brought in a new crop of visitors and returned others home, usually with lighter wallets or lowered bank balances. Helicopters for Maverick Air Tours began their flight checks and took off on runs to pick up tourists in and around the Grand Canyon area. The morning sunlight added to the whiteness of the towers of The Mirage Hotel and Casino especially. Rooms with a “Strip View” commanded a premium, not for the beautiful sunrises, but for the night time explosion of garish neon and LED lighting displays. As the natural light replaced the artificial light the effect was almost sad and depressing, the true nature of Vegas became exposed, all flash with nothing of substance. Room 2475 in The Mirage had a view toward the still open expanse of the western valley, the preferred vista for the sole occupant. Not to avoid the sunrise, for she was awake every day 30 minutes before the sky lightened, regardless of the varying times or when she went to bed. Part of her morning ritual was to stand naked in front of the floor to ceiling picture window then engage in special stretching and breathing routines that were unique to the ancient Sinanju disciplines. Finishing that part of her workout Roberta Tracy, slipped on an old lose fitting T-shirt and gym shorts. Then she called the number for employees' room service to order her breakfast of steel cut oatmeal, cooked in milk, a bowl of strawberries, and a pot of coffee, very strong. While waiting for her food Bobbie, as she preferred to be called, began the second part of her morning exercises. Fridays consisted of Bobbie running down the twenty four flights of stairs from her floor to the main level, running back up from there, and when she reached the top she ran backwards down the stairs. For her second trip up the stairs she did a head stand then walked on her hands up the twenty four flights. She rounded out the routine by doing forward flips down the hall and back flips returning to her room. There was a soft knock at the double doors, Maria had arrived with breakfast. “Good morning, Miss Bobbie,” was her usual greeting. “How are you today, Maria?” Bobbie asked, genuinely concerned about the attendant whom she had known since becoming a full time resident of the large two bedroom suite almost one year ago. “Very good, thank you, Miss Bobbie.” There was a slight hesitation as the plates were placed on the glass topped table. “I am wanting to ask a favor, please.” When signaled to proceed she said, “Monday is my Juan's tenth birthday. He is the big fan of Miss Sable.” A smile started to grow on Bobbie as the attendant bashfully continued, “It is said that you are a friend of hers, no?” “I don't know about that, but I do run into her more than most.” “Would you, do you think you could get an autographed picture of her for my Juan?” A warm reassuring smile was given to Maria as Bobbie replied, “That should be OK. One will be here tomorrow or Sunday morning.” “Thank you. Thank you, Miss Bobbie,” effused the attendant as she let herself out of the room. That simple request added another bit of brightness on what was to be a great day. Bobbie Tracy, the head of Special Security Operations for The Mirage, was also the alter ego of Sable, costumed crime fighter and bounty hunter operating in the greater Las Vegas area. Bobbie was always pleasantly surprised discovering the depth and range of Sable's fans. However, the main highlight for the day was that one of the aircraft winging in from the east had a special pair of passengers. A friend Bobbie had made last May, Dr. Candace Roberts, and her boyfriend, William MacIntyre. Bobbie had extended the offer of a romantic weekend getaway before Candy had left in May and now Candy and Bill were flying in for that very reason. Shortly after 10 AM Bobbie slipped on a pair of hip huger jeans and a bare midriff tied top. She checked her hair and put on her lightly tinted glasses, then left her room and rode down to the lobby level in the service elevator just outside her door. There was a slight surge of anticipation as Bobbie, standing just outside the main hotel entrance, saw one of the white Mirage Escalades pull up the drive and stop. A doorman opened the rear passenger door and out stepped- “Candy!” gushed Bobbie as she stepped up to greet her friend and guest. They shared a cursory hug before she noticed that Candy was alone. “Where's Bill? Coming later?” Before answering, Candy exhaled a deep sigh, adjusted her glasses, and gave her head a little shake, tossing her pony tail side to side. “It was unbelievable. Just as your driver was opening the door for us, Bill's business phone went off. He insisted that I go ahead and that he would try to get here if he could. I wasn't sure that I wanted to, but he insisted. He knew how much I was looking forward to seeing you again.” Bobbie gave Candy a reassuring pat on her shoulder, feeling the sadness for her friend's disappointment. “Am I to guess this happens...?” “More than I like, but it happens.” Knowing not to ask questions about Candy's boyfriend's business, Bobbie took her by the arm and guided her into the lobby area, turning right, stopping after a few feet. “I'm going to change your room. Probably be worse if you stayed where I had you booked,” Bobbie explained. “Will only take a couple of minutes.” She turned to her left and signaled to John, tending the Lobby Bar. “Anything my friend wants.” “It's early, isn't it?” came the weak protest. “This is Vegas, time is only a frame of mind,” began Bobbie. “Besides, it should be after twelve o'clock at home and you've been up how long?” Relenting, Candy ordered a screwdriver, thinking that she might as well have some orange juice at least. The VIP check-in was directly across from the Lobby Bar and Bobbie walked right in. Besides canceling the room there was no need for the roses, chocolates, and champagne. In a few minutes she rejoined her friend at the bar. “Got you a room on the same floor as mine, just a few doors down,” the security head explained. “Your bags are on the way up now.” “I still can't believe you live here.” Candy took the last swallow of her drink. “You want to have one with me?” Bobbie nodded yes and called for two more. When the fresh drinks arrived Candy took a long look at her new friend. “I like your outfit, but not your usual business attire, is it?” “My work day starts at two today. No sense getting too dolled up before then.” She paused for a second. “Actually, I've got a meeting with some other security types at The Montecito at 2:30. Why don't you come along and you can check it out.” “Are you sure? I don't want to be in the way.” Reassuring her that she would not be in the way in any way, Bobbie finished her drink. “C'mon,” Bobbie started, standing up, “Let's get you up to your room.” As they started into the Atrium to make their way to the elevators, Bobbie stopped suddenly. “This is rare. Not many people. Hold on.” She pulled a Minolta digital camera from a pocket and called one of the bell hops over. “Get a picture of us, would you?” Candy was a tad hesitant, before Bobbie explained. “I don't have one of you and you can have something to show Bill what he's missing.” Thanking the bell hop the girls headed through the Atrium, onto the casino floor and towards the elevators. As they approached the recessed elevator foyer it was Candy's turn to stop. “Would it be weird to see the room you had for us?” she asked softly. “Not at all,” Bobbie quickly replied. “Follow me.” With that they turned left and walked down the wide hallway and went past the entrance for Bare, the all nude pool where they had spent their last Friday in May. Candy had to ask, “This is Friday. What about your “me day?” “Took it yesterday.” Heading outside the west side doors they walked through a lush garden area and stopped at Villa number four. Bobbie produced her all access key-card, sliding it into the slot. Immediately the green light showed and they walked inside. For her part Candy was awestruck, stopping just inside the doorway, trying to take in the sight that greeted her. Taking a quick look to her left she saw the largest bathroom she had ever seen. The bedroom was equally impressive in size, as was the sitting area, with the large screen television, and obligatory wet bar, well stocked naturally. The dining room was very large, containing elegant chairs around the large wooden table. “This is as big as my house!” Candy exclaimed. “Maybe bigger.” Then something caught her eye, a full kitchen, complete with refrigerator, range/stove unit, dual sinks, and dishwasher. “Wait. All of this and we're expected to cook?” The reaction was common. Bobbie gave Candy a quick one armed hug on her shoulders. “This villa suite comes with, not only a 24 hour valet to see to your every need, but with a chef to prepare any meal you may want while staying here.” Then Bobbie had an idea. “Why don't I take of picture of you here. Bill can really see what he missed.” “Yeah, might serve him right at that.” Ten minutes later Candy had finished up seeing all she could see, including the private garden patio just outside the bedroom. As they left she spotted the legally required room rate card affixed to the double doors. She almost whistled at the price. Shortly after leaving the villa the girls arrived at room 2470,Candy's room for the weekend. Bobbie handed Candy the key-card after unlocking the door. “I'm just down the hall in 2475,” Bobbie advised as they entered. The room was larger than the one in which Candy had stayed during her May conference trip and seemed to have nicer appointments. Bobbie walked over to the picture window, opening the drapes. “You have a view of the Strip and of the volcano. From up here it's quite the show.” Candy sat on the edge of the king sized bed and exhaled another long sigh. “Hey, what's with the sigh?” Bobbie asked sitting down in the easy chair. “You're really upset about Bill?” “Yeah, but that's not all of it.” Taking a deep breath to compose herself Candy continued. “It's, I don't know. I don't want to appear to be ungrateful or unappreciative. That villa was $6,000 a night. I know we're friends, but, really not for that long. That seems way above what the Wynns or you or Sable might feel is owed just for knocking me to the ground. It's almost like there's a catch or something.” She had an embarrassed look that was plain to see. Leaning forward, The Mirage's special security chief put her hands on her knees then began, “Here's a little secret. We never charge anybody one dime for those villas, that rate card is for the IRS and Nevada hotel laws. Only invited guests are given those. Truth is that this time of year they usually sit empty. Steve knows I only ask the rare special people to stay.” “About that,” Candy was clearly not as ease. “I like you and all that but...” “I don't want to bore you about my life,” Bobbie started, then leaned back in the chair. “I grew up in a remote, very isolated village and had no childhood friends. My parents were killed when I was five.” She waited as Candy gave the usual emphatic condolences. “So I seem to make friends easily now. Plus there was just something I sensed about you. An aura, I don't know. Your intelligence, bearing, demeanor, sense of strength. I just knew we'd be friends. I only have one other really good friend. She's a retired astronaut.” Giving a small laugh as she continued, “If I can't treat my friends to a really good time as a perk of this job, what's the point?” Candy took another deep breath. “OK, I get all that. But, I'm not... are you... do you?” Clearly she was uncomfortable. A full throat laugh escaped from Bobbie. “Oh, Candy! Candy, Candy.” A broad smile was given to her friend. “You know you're beautiful. But, well, there is nothing like chin stubble rubbing the bottom of my breasts, or between my thighs. No substitute for the one thing men are good for.” Candy laughed along with her friend. “I feel exactly the same way.”... What Happened in Vegas? Part 2Part 2: Cheating at Craps? Promptly at 2 PM Candy knocked on the double doors of room 2475, as she and Bobbie had arranged earlier. After showering she had changed into a light colored blouse, check patterned lose pants and very comfortable shoes, a must for a serious Vegas trip. She had found out in May that non-gaming, non-drinking seats were at a minimum and lots of walking was involved almost everywhere. The left door swung open and Bobbie greeted her friend. “Hey, let's go. I'd show you around my pad but traffic is a bear on Friday afternoons.” Candy noticed that Bobbie had changed into her more business-like attire, dark blue blouse, matching skirt and her dark yellow jacket. One thing seemed out of place. “You're wearing your heels?” “I feel naked without them. And I'm used to them.” As Candy turned to head down the hall for the main elevator lobby, Bobbie corrected her. “No, other way. I use the service elevator. Almost like an express.” Upon arriving she pushed the call button and explained, “Coming up on the guest elevators isn't too bad, normally, but going down it seems you stop on every floor. And the early check-ins are mostly on the upper floors.” Candy nodded her understanding. She knew that the hotel had 8 main guest elevators, two banks of four, that faced each other in the recessed foyer tucked away between the casino floor and the walkway to the shops, pools, and meeting areas. The first pair on either side ran from the casino level to the floors up to the fourteenth floor. The back pair ran from the fifteenth floor to the twenty sixth. At check-in and check-out times that foyer could get crowded with the guests and their luggage carts. It was nice to be in the company of someone who knew her way around. The pair exited the hotel from out of the bell hop door and into the far end of the registration parking area. A white Mirage Escalade was waiting, with the driver standing by the rear door. He greeted them as “Ms Tracey.” and “Dr. Roberts.” As Candy climbed in and sat in the leather seat she thought that she might become accustomed to the VIP treatment. The SUV limo pulled out of the drive and onto the fabled Las Vegas Strip, heading south toward their destination, The Montecito Resort and Casino. “Normally when I drive I take the side streets,” Bobbie explained as Candy looked out at the edifices at some of the most expensive hotel properties in the world. “But I do like the energy of the Strip and I knew you'd like to take it in.” After her visit in May Candy had done some reading on the history of the desert oasis and its nickname “Lost Wages.” Indeed Vegas was a dusty out of the way little town that looked like a back-lot set for a Hollywood western, complete with legal gambling. Then in 1945 infamous mob hitman Bugsy Siegel, looking to add to the fortune made during Prohibition and to take advantage of the post World War II prosperity made a fateful decision to make Las Vegas a major base of operations and money center for the Jewish and Italian-American crime families. A decision that led to his 1947 murder due to his Flamingo Hotel being a financial failure. After other hotels were built with amenities to keep gamblers happy and distracted from their losses the money started flowing in faster than anyone had thought possible. Until the mid-nineties the town had been built, expanded, and developed almost entirely by money lost on the table games and one armed bandits. The rooms, food, and shows from top headliners, like the Frank Sinatra led Rat Pack, were either loss leaders or broke even at best. In the wake of Lefty Rosenthal being forced to cede control of The Stardust in 1986, officially the mob no longer openly ran the gaming mecca of the United States. From that point on more and more of the profits in town came from diversified areas such as the hotel operations separate from the casinos, shopping, and destination attractions. “I asked if you wanted to know a little something about the meeting,” Bobbie repeated, breaking Candy's daydreaming. “Sure,” the distracted passenger replied. “But I though it might be some big top secret Vegas stuff." “More or less. During the last two weeks we noticed a loss pattern at the craps tables that is not normal. While craps, along with Blackjack, has the best odds for the player, the house still makes money.” “The house is not there to give money away,” Candy said to show her understanding. “We don't mind, as long as the rules are followed. Rules to protect the house and player alike.” Bobbie then went on to explain that craps, with its many betting options and almost non-stop action, was ripe for common scams like stealing other players' chips, under-payouts, and over-payouts. This scheme was different. Five, maybe six, players seemed to win on every roll of the dice, regardless of the bet or at which table they played. Representatives of the affected properties, Bellagio, Bally's, Montecito, and of course Mirage, were meeting to share intelligence and ideas about the apparent scam. The Escalade arrived as Bobbie was finishing. The Montecito was on the east side of Strip at the southern end, just past The Tropicana and across from the newly opened Mandalay Bay. Candy was impressed by the size and sense of luxury given off in the main entrance area. She was even more impressed when two bellhops opened each rear door to allow the girls to exit without sliding across the seat. The pair was greeted by a pair from the Montecito, Bobbie shaking hands with both, as she made the introductions. “Danny, Mary, this is my good friend, Dr. Candace Roberts, visiting for the weekend. Candy, this is Danny McCoy, security and surveillance, and Mary Connel, special events, both of Montecito.” Mary explained that she going to show Candy around the property while the others discussed business. Candy expressed her delight and they started off on the tour. Naturally they entered the casino, or properly called, the gaming floor, first. The bright lights were not intrusive nor glaring and the high ceiling, with its multi-colored designs made the area seem quiet and empty despite the crowds at the tables and slot machines. As they passed a row of craps tables Candy asked if Mary could explain that game to her since that seemed to be the focus for the meeting. Mary guided her to a closed table and pointed out the various boxed off areas on the table. Mary gave a condensed version of the different main bets, pass/don't pass, field, come/don't come, the numbers, and explained the all important “come out roll” which set the subsequent action until the shooter 'crapped out” by rolling a 7. As she explained the winning and losing aspects of the come out roll Candy could only think of Fizzbin. Incredibly ninety minutes had passed. During the tour Candy had taken a liking to the down to earth Vegas native who happily answered all her questions and seemed proud of the various features of her property. They rejoined Bobbie and Danny outside the main entrance where the Mirage Escalade was waiting, both rear doors held open. As the limo whisked them back up the Strip Candy had to comment. “Mary was really nice. And Danny, quite the hunk, seemed smitten by you.” A chuckle preceded Bobbie's reply. “When it comes to Danny McCoy and myself, he only wants two things. Me coming to work at The Montecito or getting in my pants. I'm not sure which he wants most.” The two girls shared a laugh. “May I ask how the meeting went?” “You may ask,” replied Bobbie with a grin. “I'll tell you what I can. But let's get back and grab a quick bite and we'll discuss it then.” Back at her home base, Bobbie decided on the buffet, mainly as she was not sure what she wanted and they would not have to wait. She led Candy past the normal queue of customers, giving a friendly smile and wave at the staff. At a table near the dessert bar, Bobbie removed the “Reserved” sign from the placard holder. Seemingly out of nowhere a pleasant attendant arrived with glasses of water and took their drink requests, iced tea for both. A few minutes later the girls returned to the table, Bobbie with a crab salad and Candy with baked cod with lemon sauce with a rice melody for a side. Between forkfuls Bobbie filled Candy in on what she could. There seemed to be three, maybe four people involved. There were faces but no names, yet. However, there was no indication on how they were consistently winning and that the only clue was that they always placed their bets first, regardless of a line or proposition bet. Then Bobbie added that it was very possible for a team to beat the house at Blackjack, not just by counting cards, which was easy to now spot and guard against. If four or five players could sit at the same table they could use basic strategy and simple money management to tip the odds in their favor. One or two of the team might lose money but the winnings of the others would more than make up for it, with the table losing money overall. If someone had figured out a method for a team to beat the house at craps that could make for a fundamental shift in the way Vegas operated gaming. “I had an idea on how to flush them out,” Bobbie said, “But the Gaming Commission would have never allowed it.” Her companion arched her eyebrows to silently ask how. “We cheat,” was the simple reply. “Don't think that for one minute that we can't put in loaded die or some other sneaky ways to make sure they lose. I figured that they'd either get pissed and complain or, better, leave.” “But that would leave open lots of unanswered questions, wouldn't it?” A slow sigh escaped from the mouth of the Special Security Operations head. “Yeah, it would. We really need to figure out the who and how.” She took a deep breath. “All we really seem to be sure of is that no casino employee is involved but that makes it harder actually.” Candy smiled as she offered, “Because most of the surveillance was put in by the mob to stop the dealers, stick men and pit bosses from stealing.” “Wow,” said Bobbie, impressed. “You are smart.” “Mary told me a whole bunch of stuff about the good old days. The mobs ran the town on respect. You respected them and they would respect you by treating you fairly.” Finished with their meal the two walked onto the casino floor. As if on cue Bobbie's radio crackled at her. “We might have two possibles at craps 16,” Bobbie said. “I'm going over there for a discrete look and then head to the monitoring room. You going to be OK on your own?” Shrugging her shoulders, Candy replied, “Sure. Maybe I'll play some Blackjack or craps.” Bobbie gave her a smile, saying, “Be careful.” Then added, good naturedly, “We're not comping your losses.” Candy watched the action at another table and noted when Bobbie headed off the floor. Then she made her way to a craps table with only three other players. She handed the players club card provided by Bobbie to one of the dealers, who in turn handed it to the boxman. The card was scanned and placed in a holder representing her position at the table. She then requested $250, against her account, in $25 chips, the minimum table bet. The shooter was two players to Candy's left. She followed the action as the dice were thrown at the far end of the table from the shooter to where they had to bounce off the bumper before stopping. She would place no bet until the next come out roll, either after the shooter made his point or crapped out. Which came three rolls later. The dealers raked in the chips while the stickman collected the dice, mixing them with 6 other die, the boxman keeping a careful trained eye on the table. When the table was cleared of chips the stickman pushed the eight dice to the next shooter in line, going counterclockwise, the player directly to Candy's left. Making a Place bet on the come out roll Candy won as 11 was rolled. Candy remained a Place bet and won when the shooter established 5 as the point and made the point three rolls later. On the next come out roll 8 was the point but the shooter rolled 7 and crapped out. After the table was cleared it would be Candy's turn to be the shooter. “I'm a little nervous.” Candy made a $25 Place bet, picked up two of the proffered dice, shook them in her right hand, and tossed them to the far end, with an almost imperceptible waggle of her fingers. 7! Winner! Letting the bet ride, Candy threw another 7, followed by a third. A feat not that rare as 7 was the number with the most potential combinations. On her fourth come out roll she established 4 as the point, which she made on the next roll. Then she rolled a 9 on her next roll, another come out roll. Three rolls later she crapped out and had to pass the dice. “Well, that was fun,” Candy said, then asked to cash out. She had almost doubled her initial buy-in. The boxman credited her winnings to her account and wished her luck as he handed her card back. Luck? Luck had nothing to do with it, she silently told herself. All skill, skill uniquely possessed by her. For Dr. Candace Roberts was the alter ego of superheroine Duster, Mistress of the Winds. Her theory had been correct. With subtle changes to the air currents at the table she had been able to roll any number she desired. She was ready. Yes, the same players were still at table 16. It was time to see if she could find the cheaters and teach them a lesson....