out there.”
Not today I wouldn’t.
This is the worst thing that has ever happened to me. I can honestly say that if Sofia wasn’t depending on me, I would prefer to be dead. They say that there are no noble ways to die, but a heart attack is looking pretty good right now. And the way my heart is thudding in my chest, a cardiac is definitely achievable if I let my fear run riot.
“Come on, guys. There must be something we can do here. I gotta be more valuable to you alive than dead. I got certain skills.”
Fortz laughs. “Listen to Liam fucking Neeson. Certain skills.”
Krieger pitches in. “He could tell us where the package is. That would be worth something.”
Package? How do they know about Mike’s envelope?
I go to standard first base. “What package?”
Fortz shrugs. “If you don’t know, then you don’t know and we ain’t got a use for you apart from the auction.”
I have no play here. All these morons have to do is search my clothes and they’re going to find the envelope. I can’t believe they didn’t do that already, too busy wiggling into their rubber aprons.
Maybe they are stupid enough for me to pull some sort of con.
“Detectives. You’re making twenty grand? That’s chump change compared to what I can offer you.”
The blues don’t even bother answering, returning their attention to the screen’s growing total.
I let my chin droop to my chest and make animal snuffles that are somewhere between chuckles and sobs.
Keep it together, soldier. You are not dead yet.
Fortz pinches his partner’s midriff. “Nineteen grand. Still rising.”
Krieger giggles and skips away. “Quit it, Dirk.”
“Okay,” I say, recovering a little. “Let’s do what we’re really here to do.”
“Which is?” asks Fortz, stepping closer.
We’re here because these two protect-and-serve motherfuckers are greedy and maybe I can appeal to that side of their nature.
“Negotiate,” I say.
Fortz waves the scalpel at me. “Negotiate? What are you gonna negotiate with, Irish? Who gets to slice off your balls?”
This casual questions hits me like a sock in the gut and I feel myself hyperventilating. I’ve been in tight spots before but this situation is so dark that I am a hair’s breadth from total panic.
Fortz taps me on the cheek with the scalpel. “Hey, Dan. Danny. Come on, now. Gimme some of that crackling banter you’re famous for. Let’s give the perverts their money’s worth.”
I suck the panic back down. “I got the package in my jacket pocket on the floor right over there.”
“You got the package in your jacket pocket?”
Fortz elbows Krieger. “Is this guy serious?”
“The boss said it was a long shot.”
“So he doesn’t have the package. Who cares? We’re getting paid on both ends.”
I am insulted that they doubt my integrity. “I do have that package. I was delivering it for Mike Madden. Why don’t you pull it out, see what we have?”
Krieger and Fortz go into a routine.
“Why don’t we do that?”
“Yeah, why don’t we do that?”
“Seems reasonable?”
“Totally reasonable.”
Fortz conducts with the scalpel as he speaks. “We would have to be total retardos not to go ahead and act on your suggestion.”
Krieger laughs at the word retardos, which is probably a new wrinkle in their double act.
“Do we look like retardos to you, McEvoy?” Krieger demands.
This seems like a trick question.
“No. Look, it’s in my pocket.”
I figure if I get away from Krieger and his partner, I can worry about Mike killing me later. Also if I do get away, then I will come back almost immediately and kick the living shit out of these two clowns.
“My package is worth two hundred large, which is a hell of a lot more than whatever you’re pulling down here. And there’s more where that came from.”
Give a little truth to sell a lie.
“Save your breath, McEvoy,” says Krieger. “You’re gonna need it for screaming.”
Fortz pats Krieger’s
Not today I wouldn’t.
This is the worst thing that has ever happened to me. I can honestly say that if Sofia wasn’t depending on me, I would prefer to be dead. They say that there are no noble ways to die, but a heart attack is looking pretty good right now. And the way my heart is thudding in my chest, a cardiac is definitely achievable if I let my fear run riot.
“Come on, guys. There must be something we can do here. I gotta be more valuable to you alive than dead. I got certain skills.”
Fortz laughs. “Listen to Liam fucking Neeson. Certain skills.”
Krieger pitches in. “He could tell us where the package is. That would be worth something.”
Package? How do they know about Mike’s envelope?
I go to standard first base. “What package?”
Fortz shrugs. “If you don’t know, then you don’t know and we ain’t got a use for you apart from the auction.”
I have no play here. All these morons have to do is search my clothes and they’re going to find the envelope. I can’t believe they didn’t do that already, too busy wiggling into their rubber aprons.
Maybe they are stupid enough for me to pull some sort of con.
“Detectives. You’re making twenty grand? That’s chump change compared to what I can offer you.”
The blues don’t even bother answering, returning their attention to the screen’s growing total.
I let my chin droop to my chest and make animal snuffles that are somewhere between chuckles and sobs.
Keep it together, soldier. You are not dead yet.
Fortz pinches his partner’s midriff. “Nineteen grand. Still rising.”
Krieger giggles and skips away. “Quit it, Dirk.”
“Okay,” I say, recovering a little. “Let’s do what we’re really here to do.”
“Which is?” asks Fortz, stepping closer.
We’re here because these two protect-and-serve motherfuckers are greedy and maybe I can appeal to that side of their nature.
“Negotiate,” I say.
Fortz waves the scalpel at me. “Negotiate? What are you gonna negotiate with, Irish? Who gets to slice off your balls?”
This casual questions hits me like a sock in the gut and I feel myself hyperventilating. I’ve been in tight spots before but this situation is so dark that I am a hair’s breadth from total panic.
Fortz taps me on the cheek with the scalpel. “Hey, Dan. Danny. Come on, now. Gimme some of that crackling banter you’re famous for. Let’s give the perverts their money’s worth.”
I suck the panic back down. “I got the package in my jacket pocket on the floor right over there.”
“You got the package in your jacket pocket?”
Fortz elbows Krieger. “Is this guy serious?”
“The boss said it was a long shot.”
“So he doesn’t have the package. Who cares? We’re getting paid on both ends.”
I am insulted that they doubt my integrity. “I do have that package. I was delivering it for Mike Madden. Why don’t you pull it out, see what we have?”
Krieger and Fortz go into a routine.
“Why don’t we do that?”
“Yeah, why don’t we do that?”
“Seems reasonable?”
“Totally reasonable.”
Fortz conducts with the scalpel as he speaks. “We would have to be total retardos not to go ahead and act on your suggestion.”
Krieger laughs at the word retardos, which is probably a new wrinkle in their double act.
“Do we look like retardos to you, McEvoy?” Krieger demands.
This seems like a trick question.
“No. Look, it’s in my pocket.”
I figure if I get away from Krieger and his partner, I can worry about Mike killing me later. Also if I do get away, then I will come back almost immediately and kick the living shit out of these two clowns.
“My package is worth two hundred large, which is a hell of a lot more than whatever you’re pulling down here. And there’s more where that came from.”
Give a little truth to sell a lie.
“Save your breath, McEvoy,” says Krieger. “You’re gonna need it for screaming.”
Fortz pats Krieger’s