Collateral Damage by Austin Camacho Page A

it’s not like that,” Hannibal said with a smile. “Your wife is my client and nothing more. She asked me to come here because she’s scared, Isaac, and trouble is my business.” Could Hannibal establish a token amount of trust? His Secret Service training told him that was the next step. He stopped moving and extended his right hand. “Hannibal Jones is my name.”
    â€œFuck you!”
    No rapport, perhaps, but Isaac didn’t sucker punch him while his hand was out. The anger was under some sort of control. “Okay. But I can assure you of this much. Your wife doesn’t have another man. In fact, I’m sure she never has.”
    â€œBullshit!” Isaac’s fists were shaking with rage now. “Why would she leave me if she didn’t have another man?”
    It was time to commit. Hannibal rooted his feet and let Isaac get close enough to crush him. “Look at me Isaac, I’m six feet tall and I’ve been kick-boxing since high school. Years of police training. And if you really wanted to you could kill me with your hands. Your wife is five foot two. Maybe, what, a hundred ten pounds? Think about what happens to her body when you hit her.”
    Isaac’s fist actually whistled through the air, down toward Hannibal’s head like a hammer. A sidestep allowed it to blow past, slamming down on the fender of a Taurus. He turned away from the impressive dent, following Hannibal with his eyes.
    â€œIf she was scared of me, she would have called the police!”
    â€œYou still don’t get it,” Hannibal said, beginning to dance around a bit, still working to keep the sun in Isaac’s eyes. “She’s more scared for you. She knew if you tried this crap with the cops they’d just as likely shoot your big dumb ass. And she doesn’t want you to get hurt. The woman loves you!”
    Hannibal stopped to see what effect his words were having. Isaac bellowed “No!” and swung faster than expected. A fist as big as a twelve-pound ham raked across Hannibal’s jaw, lifting him off his feet. He rolled across theasphalt to give himself distance and sprang up ready for action, bouncing on the balls of his feet like a boxer.
    â€œAll right you get that one for free. Maybe you owed me one for the other night. Now you’ve got to call the next play, big man. You come in on me and you mash my face and the police come and throw you in jail. Or, you come in on me and I’m as fast as you know I am and I break your knee and put your face through a car windshield because I can’t go easy with a guy your size. Or, you go home and I promise Anna will call you tonight and talk about what’s wrong and how maybe you two can fix it.”
    Isaac looked startled for a moment. Maybe he didn’t expect Hannibal to be up so quickly. Or perhaps the sound of Anna’s name had an effect on him. His fists lowered a few inches.
    â€œTonight?”
    â€œMy word on it,” Hannibal said quickly. When he pulled a card from an inside jacket pocket he watched Isaac’s eyes and saw him register the presence of Hannibal’s pistol. Now he knew Hannibal didn’t have to take that punch.
    â€œMy address is right there,” Hannibal said, slapping the card on a car hood. “If Anna doesn’t call you before the night’s over, you can come to me and we can pick this up where we left off if that’s what you want to do. Right now, you need to go home and relax a while.”
    Isaac’s big fist closed on Hannibal’s card, but his eyes turned back toward the double doors into the motor vehicle building. Hannibal moved into his line of sight. “You can’t take her back, Ike. You have to let her come back. I’m sorry, that’s just the way it works.”

    When Hannibal walked into the motor vehicle office, Anna deserted her post and rushed to him. She hustled him into the back offices and ran to the