[color=f7941d][u][b]Corporal Yazan Mohammad - Gomorrah - Midnight, October 16th [/b][/u][/color]


Yazan had barely set his glass down before a waitress in a flashy cocktail dress came and replaced it with another tequila. Such had been the pattern since he stepped into the Gomorrah. He had rushed in with the rest of his squad eager to enjoy their first night on the Strip. Their eyes wide at the extravagant displays of revelry and debauchery that filled the casino. They were utterly intoxicated by the spectacle for the first few hours but after a dozen or so drinks and poor luck at the slot machines and card tables he was aching for sleep and quiet. The music was loud, the lighting garish and inconsistent and the press of perfumed dancers, entertainers and drunk gamblers left him feeling disoriented and nauseous. Sitting quietly on the bench his thoughts returned to the violence he had seen at the gates to Freeside. Yazan had seen more corpses than he’d care to admit during the famine but he’d never seen a man’s face vaporized in a plume of plasma before. The ghastly stench of melted flesh and burned hair still singed his nostrils even after six strong drinks. It had been a chaotic few moments but the sheer ease at which the CSF officer had killed the man deeply disturbed Yazan. He could still see his corpse sprawled out in the street and despite the loud music his ears rang with the snap of energy weapon discharging. 

He took a weak sip of his drink and cringed at the strength of the cocktail. Yazan sat on a bench with two of his squadmates between two potted ferns. Emily was seated at the blackjack table in front of them. She was the last member of the squad still standing, the rest having left the casino more than an hour ago. She had made a remarkable turnaround from the start of playing and now was on a seven hand winning streak. Gamblers from several other tables had stopped and gathered around to watch the young soldier play. She wore a devilish grin and celebrated enthusiastically everytime she won. She had started with her own voucher but as the night wore on and the rest of the squad had begun to taper out they passed their remaining chips on to her. Now flush with over two thousand chips Emily had doubled down and begun to push her luck with increasingly higher bets every hand. 

Yazan had enjoyed watching her radiant smile light up with every win but as he scanned the crowd gathered around he had begun to notice several faces which lacked the glassy eyed stupor of the average gambler. They wore matching pressed suits with their hats cocked ever slightly. He saw them exchange a glance before two of them broke off and maneuvered their way across the casino floor. Yazan took another quick sip, winced and then rose unsteadily to his feet. He shuffled through the crowd and grabbed Emily by the arm as the dealer laid out a fresh hand. Her sharp eyes met Yazan’s and narrowed. He felt a flutter of warmth in his chest.  

“What?”

“I think we should go.” 

She rolled her eyes and carefully slid her arm out of his grip. “It's bad luck to cut a streak short. Besides, I’m making new friends.” She winked at the patrons gathered around them. Yazan grabbed her arm again and tugged on it lightly. She cocked her head and stared into Yazan’s eyes. Her face was playful and expectant. “What?”

Yazan touched his head to hers and whispered into her ear. “They think you’re cheating.” His voice was breathy and he shook slightly as he spoke so close to her. He stood up and glanced back at the men in suits, he could only see one of them now. Her eyes scanned the crowd and he could see on her face as she began to register the situation. She began to scoop up the chips with her when the dealer motioned for her to stop.

“The cards have been dealt, you cannot back out now without forfeiting your bet.” 

Emily looked at the dealer and the other men at the table. Her tongue stuck to the corner of her mouth she flipped her cards. A king and an ace of hearts. The other gamblers swore. Emily feigned a bow before she grabbed the chips and scooted off the stool and into the crowd with Yazan. They weaved their way back to the bench and Yazan grabbed his other squad mates on the verge of sleep. He jolted them awake, spoke a rushed word of caution to them as quietly as he could. Together they pushed their way across the floor towards the cashier’s cage. Yazan looked around searching for anyone who might be tailing them. Only one man met his gaze, a dark dressed man in a black fedora with the stub of a cigarette in his mouth. The man winked. Yazan looked away and pushed for Emily and the others to move faster. 

“Cashing out?” asked the cashier behind the bars. She was a young woman with a bored expression and finely styled hair. Emily nodded enthusiastically.

“Yessum ma’m.” She dumped the chips into the trough and smiled at the cashier, proud of her haul. The cashier’s eyebrows raised ever so slightly and she began to sort the chips with practiced fluidity. 

“Quite the haul for some young troopers such as yourself.”

“Just me.” Emily beamed and Yazan couldn’t help but smile. He scanned the casino floor once more but couldn't see the man. Hopefully they had lost him. The cashier was quick and was already asking Emily what currency she wanted the payout. Emily paused for a moment. 

“I’ll take caps.”

The cashier nodded and disappeared for a moment, returning with a silver tin in her hands the name Gomorrah emblazoned on top. She slid it open to reveal neatly wrapped rolls of caps. 

“Five thousand two hundred and fifty five caps.” 

Emily’s grin encompassed her entire face and there was a spark of pure delight in her eyes. Even with the tension in his chest Yazan was enamored with the simple beauty of her joy.

“Christssake Emily! Hope you’re gonna share that.” said David, a private in their squad. Like Yazan and Robert they had given Emily the remainder of their vouchers after several bad hands at the tables. 

“When have I ever been a selfish winner?” She smiled devilishly and David just rolled his eyes. Once she had her hands on the tin the group ambled their way to the casino doors and stepped out into the brisk October air. Yazan scanned the guards at the door. They looked tired and indifferent, as if they didn’t even notice the squad of young soldiers. It was a relief to Yazan. Together they began to walk their way down the Strip back towards the embassy. Yazan watched contentedly as Emily bickered with David and Robert. She worked to justify her right to the entirety of the winnings while the young privates simply wanted a return for their offered vouchers. Just as she had won at the card table she was winning the argument. Yazan smiled, admiring the way the neon lighting illuminated her high cheekbones and strong jawline. She could do no wrong in his eyes, at least not tonight. 

“Easy there corporal.” came a cool voice from behind him. Yazan turned and his stomach dropped when he recognized the man from the casino floor. The man was holding a cigarette with his right hand while his left hand fingered a pistol tucked into his waistband. Emily and the rest of them continued on for several feet before they noticed Yazan had stopped and turned to see what held him up. She held a smile on her face until she noticed the fear in Yazan’s eyes. 

“Who are you?” She asked the man.

“John Luciano.” The man said proudly, he flashed an identifier too quick for them to see clearly. “I’m here on behalf of the Gomorrah.” A dark grin grew on the man’s face, he spit and took a long drag. “Got quiet the tin there don’t ya girly?” Two other men appeared at his side with matching suits and hats.  

Emily scowled. 

“Now we can do a whole song dance out here where everyone can see but I think it's best for both of us if you go ahead and hand that over.”

“Get fucked.” said Emily and Yazan looked back at her with surprise. He knew she had a penchant for gambling but he hadn’t considered that behavior may extend to situations where their lives were on the line. 

The man clicked his tongue and wagged his finger. “That's no way for a lady to speak, especially after cheating away an evening at the card table.”  

David and Robert flanked Emily and did their best to try and appear tough but Yazan just wished she would hand it over. John threw down his cigarette and held out his hand expectantly. 

“Do the right thing and I won’t have to let the Omertas know.” He looked her up and down. “You’re not much to look at sweetie but they have uses for young women who cross them.” He looked at Yazan and the others “Not so much for young men.” 

Yazan thought of the man he had seen killed earlier and now imagined himself, sprawled out in the street. Another corpse to be picked over. The image was revolting. Emily looked at him and the other before she meekly handed the tin over. Yazan held his gaze on the man. 

“Smart move.” The man said with a wicked smile. “Now enjoy your night.” He tipped his hat and walked back towards the doors of the Gomorrah. Emily stamped off towards the embassy with David and Robert rushing to catch up with her. Yazan stood still for a moment, trying to process what had happened before he moved to catch up with them. He stopped and looked back and noticed as the man kept walking past the casino. The man was speed walking towards the north gate of the Strip. The two men with him kept their eyes on the Omerta guards. Yazan didn’t understand but he turned and walked back to the embassy.

Once they arrived Emily avoided him and the others and went straight to bed. Yazan couldn’t sleep, his heart still raced at the shame and humiliation and fear. He kept thinking about what the man had said about the Omertas. How they had walked past the casino and headed to the Strip gate. He tossed and turned and got up to walk the halls of the embassy when he knew he couldn’t sleep. The building was dimly lit and dilapidated, most of the rooms having been converted to ramshackle gambling dens. It was far too late for gaming and most of the staff had gone to bed so he walked alone. He paced around for a while before the exhaustion of the day’s march and the liquor of the Gomorrah began to pull at his eyelids. Yazan yawned, stretched and headed back to his bunk. He lay there for a few minutes and his thoughts returned to the man he had seen killed. How easily that could have been himself and Emily and the others. How close to death they had been it was as if he could smell it. Like the horrid scent of burned flesh and human hair. He could see it clearly even in the dark room, his body doubled over in a heap with brains and blood leaking from his head.

Then it struck him and he almost shot outta bed with anxious realization. The men hadn’t been with casino. They were conmen and Emily had been their mark. Humiliation and rage boiled within his chest, red-hot and nearly blinding. He wanted to run. Run out onto the Strip and search for the men. But then what? What could he do? If he even found them they’d gun him down and rob his corpse. Yazan nearly cried in frustration. He had never felt so powerless and alone.