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destination. That problem was quickly solved; map
in the window, point
at it with my eyes closed. Viva Las Vegas. So I got on a bus, came here
and where do you go when you have some money, and are in Las Vegas?
Right; the Strip.
I started walking in the direction of the Venetian, hoisting my backpack
over my shoulder, and got to the middle of the Strip. I'd passed the
Tropicana and MGM Grand, and a few others, and then stopped, trying to
get my bearings. Across the street, the white walls of the Europa
Hotel/Casino rose up into the air, twenty-five stories high; palm trees
lined the driveway to a grand entrance. At least five or six
limousines, and a couple of taxis, were parked underneath the overhang,
protected from the elements, and the hotel valet smiled pleasantly as I
approached.
I was about to head inside when a chain of events was set into motion
that would determine the next few days in the life of Jason Jake
Carter. As I reached for one of the double glass doors, I could hear a
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