CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE Angel of the Morning I opted to refresh myself before checking on Don and the Basque. My cabin door was unlocked and partially open. I did not even gripe out of disgust for the violation. Somehow, my space, and in fact, my very person, had become...
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR Beat to Quarters The cylindrically machined suppressor was cold in my hand, where it had remained since Cherno returned it to my possession. It felt bitterly cold. I slipped it, with some difficulty, into my front left pants’ pocket, before opening...
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR Straight to the Heart Kaminski’s assistant poured snifters of Black label all around. He dispensed generously. The level of the full liter bottle was only half full when he capped. I rolled the straight booze around in my glass, and then sniffed, as...
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE To Live and Die for Dixie A small tendril of smoke curled up from the end of the suppressor, which I had once more pointed down at the floor. The machined steel part had done its first job well. There had been almost no sound. Possibly, a...