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said.
    Extreme confidence , Tanner thought again. It looked like the feds planned to have their way with him.
    “We want to get Big Julie Saladino,” Frelly said.
    Hell, Tanner thought. And they picked me to lead the suicide squadron.
    Guilio “Big Julie” Saladino was the biggest crook in New Jersey—a Mafioso with a major influence on most of the traditional Sicilian businesses—and, now that he was on an extended vacation, the richest card player in Vegas. Big Julie played only high stakes, no limit Texas Hold’em in venues where players could be assured that they’d be free of all the pesky surveillance and rules you found in the big gaming houses. That meant that Big Julie played in his suite—the penthouse suite, the five-thousand-square-foot, Polynesian-style, high-roller suite, with the hot tub and view and nothing-is-too-good-for-Mr.-Saladino room service.
    Playing Big Julie would be fun, in a weird, once-in-a-lifetime way, but it was an experience Tanner was willing to sacrifice to keep all his body parts. He also had Troy to think of. His daughter, now eighteen, was leaving for college next week. She had realized long ago that the kinds of people the FBI put in her father’s path could be violent as well as bent, and she didn’t like the FBI working requirements one bit.
    I’ll go down big time on this gig, Tanner thought . Just my luck.
    “Big Julie’s wanted on sixteen counts of murder and extortion,” Frelly said now. “But to get Big Julie, we need somebody who can play cards and cheat. That’s you.”
    No . Not this time. He didn’t want to set Big Julie up for a fall. He’d be in trouble with the Mob for the rest of his life—his guaranteed short life. Next week Troy would be at UCLA, in eight months his probation would finally be over, and he’d have a whole new life to start.
    He’d wondered what that new life would look like. He hadn’t made any plans, but dying—even losing a limb—was definitely not on his personal menu of choices.
    “Why don’t you just arrest Big Julie?” Jack Sievers asked. “He’s staying at the Desert Dunes. You’ve got the sixteen counts. Why does my client have to play cards with him?”
    Frelly rubbed the back of head.
    Distress. Tanner looked up. Frelly didn’t like that question. And suddenly Tanner knew the answer.
    “There’s no charges against him,” Tanner told Jack. “I bet there’s no arrest warrants out on Big Julie at all. Right, Agent Frelly? You’re just trying to fool me into going along with you. You can’t make an extortion and murder case against Big Julie, so you want to get him on gambling charges.”
    Frelly leaned his head into his hand.
    Very distressed . I was right.
    “And you can’t even get him on gambling without outside help,” Tanner added. “So you’re putting the squeeze on me. Not that I’m unwilling to do my patriotic duty, but why not Darla, here? You want somebody to nail him? She seems more than competent.” And that way the FBI can worry about Mafia dons . He smiled cheerfully at the female agent, trying to beam confident support.
    Darla gave him a thin-lipped sneer. Funny how great legs and big breasts just didn’t compensate for a bad attitude.
    “We tried that,” Lee Gauger said from his stance in the corner. “Darla. Last week. Big Julie made her. Last night you, on the other hand, were clueless.”
    “He just looked down my dress all night,” Darla agreed.
    “You made it so easy to do,” Tanner said. “But you notice I passed on the merchandise.”
    “The point ,” Frelly said as Darla opened her mouth in outrage, “is that Darla can’t work Big Julie. He knows she’s FBI.”
    Tanner shook his head. “Say what you will, the Mafia is smart. Smarter, evidently, than Darla. Not to mention, the rest of you.”
    “ So what we’re gonna do ,” Frelly broke in, “is this.”
    Everyone looked at him expectantly.
    Frelly leaned forward and jabbed his finger at Tanner.
    Committed to