CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN Cochon II Our van made it four blocks before getting pulled over. Over the top of the stacked luggage I saw that we were not being stopped by a marked vehicle. It was a sedan with one of those portable ‘Kojak’ red lights stuck to its...
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...