“What in the hell was that!? You didn’t even touch him!” Taz was trying to find the words to express himself properly without gibbering. “How in the world…son, are you some sort of space-alien?”
“Well, I’m not exactly up to date on my genealogy, so who knows.” Bruce stood up and eyed Scorcher’s goon, who was now face-down on the sidewalk. He appeared to be knocked out cold, his gun strewn out onto the road.
Uecker scoffed. “You were impressed by that, Taz? Hang out with these Legion boys for a week and your head will be spinning.”
Santos scratched at the side of his short scruffy beard. He was uncomfortably aware that everyone was gawking at their table. The slightest of smiles crossed his face. “You might have overdone it a tad there, Bruce.”
***
Chapter 4 – Pike Fishing
Brooklyn, New York, 5:55 p.m.
Varick and Roy stormed into the coffee shop. The young lady behind the counter screamed at the sight of Roy’s gun. “Cripes, Cameron, put that thing away before you blow someone’s head off,” Bruce muttered. He was down on one knee, examining the man he had sent through the window.
“Don’t worry, miss, he’s a cop,” Santos reassured the petrified counter lady.
Varick and Roy were still on edge. Their eyes scanned the coffee shop: it was evident that the danger had passed. Roy slowly lowered his piece.
“What the hell happened?” Varick demanded.
“Nothing we couldn’t handle,” Bruce replied, while he slapped the unconscious man a few times across the face. Still no response.
Santos was standing beside Bruce, looking down with concern. “Doesn’t look like he’s going to be up and about anytime soon.”
“How’d you two know to show up here?” Bruce asked.
“We ran into some punk who was heading here—to off you, apparently,” Varick replied.
“Heh…small world.”
Varick wasn’t smiling. He eyed Uecker and Taz, who were listening intently to the conversation. Uecker cleared his throat and looked expectantly at Bruce and Santos. “Not going to introduce us?” Bruce and Santos exchanged glances.
Bruce did his best to sound nonchalant. “Yeah, this is Uecker and Taz—friends of ours.”
Uecker chuckled. “More like they’re doing their good deed for the week because us old folk are the stereotypical social outcasts. Not that we don’t enjoy eating on their bill.”
“This is why you left our investigation?” Varick asked Bruce in disbelief. “To baby-sit ? ”
“Hey, just because we take the occasional crap in our pants and eat carrot mush, it doesn’t make us babies,” Uecker said indignantly.
“Shut up, old man, I’m not talking to you.”
Uecker stood up. “Nancy boy can’t take a joke! What you need is a good smack upside your head to teach you some respect!”
Bruce was on his feet now too. “Whoa, whoa, everyone settle down, this is all just a big misunderstanding. Besides, I had no idea this was a supper. All I heard from Santos was that it was important—he called and I went.”
Santos scoffed. “Oh sure, throw me under the bus on this, Bruce.”
“Well, at least nothing happened,” Roy pointed out, in an attempt to douse the sparks. “Everyone’s in one piece.”
Varick looked down at the unconscious man and then to Bruce. “How did he know you were here?”
“No clue,” Bruce muttered. “But apparently, Scorcher’s put a hit out on me.”
Roy laughed. “Well, that was dumb of them. They just prematurely revealed their hand. Surely they must’ve known that a couple of second-rate thugs wouldn’t be enough to get the job done.”
Bruce contemplated the situation. “This wasn’t a planned attack...I just happened to be in the neighbourhood and this goof thought it smart to take a crack at it.”
Santos nodded in agreement. “Yeah, well, either way, it seems like Brooklyn isn’t a safe spot for you, Bruce. It’s crawling with Scorcher’s loose cannons, and they’re ready to strike out
“Well, I’m not exactly up to date on my genealogy, so who knows.” Bruce stood up and eyed Scorcher’s goon, who was now face-down on the sidewalk. He appeared to be knocked out cold, his gun strewn out onto the road.
Uecker scoffed. “You were impressed by that, Taz? Hang out with these Legion boys for a week and your head will be spinning.”
Santos scratched at the side of his short scruffy beard. He was uncomfortably aware that everyone was gawking at their table. The slightest of smiles crossed his face. “You might have overdone it a tad there, Bruce.”
***
Chapter 4 – Pike Fishing
Brooklyn, New York, 5:55 p.m.
Varick and Roy stormed into the coffee shop. The young lady behind the counter screamed at the sight of Roy’s gun. “Cripes, Cameron, put that thing away before you blow someone’s head off,” Bruce muttered. He was down on one knee, examining the man he had sent through the window.
“Don’t worry, miss, he’s a cop,” Santos reassured the petrified counter lady.
Varick and Roy were still on edge. Their eyes scanned the coffee shop: it was evident that the danger had passed. Roy slowly lowered his piece.
“What the hell happened?” Varick demanded.
“Nothing we couldn’t handle,” Bruce replied, while he slapped the unconscious man a few times across the face. Still no response.
Santos was standing beside Bruce, looking down with concern. “Doesn’t look like he’s going to be up and about anytime soon.”
“How’d you two know to show up here?” Bruce asked.
“We ran into some punk who was heading here—to off you, apparently,” Varick replied.
“Heh…small world.”
Varick wasn’t smiling. He eyed Uecker and Taz, who were listening intently to the conversation. Uecker cleared his throat and looked expectantly at Bruce and Santos. “Not going to introduce us?” Bruce and Santos exchanged glances.
Bruce did his best to sound nonchalant. “Yeah, this is Uecker and Taz—friends of ours.”
Uecker chuckled. “More like they’re doing their good deed for the week because us old folk are the stereotypical social outcasts. Not that we don’t enjoy eating on their bill.”
“This is why you left our investigation?” Varick asked Bruce in disbelief. “To baby-sit ? ”
“Hey, just because we take the occasional crap in our pants and eat carrot mush, it doesn’t make us babies,” Uecker said indignantly.
“Shut up, old man, I’m not talking to you.”
Uecker stood up. “Nancy boy can’t take a joke! What you need is a good smack upside your head to teach you some respect!”
Bruce was on his feet now too. “Whoa, whoa, everyone settle down, this is all just a big misunderstanding. Besides, I had no idea this was a supper. All I heard from Santos was that it was important—he called and I went.”
Santos scoffed. “Oh sure, throw me under the bus on this, Bruce.”
“Well, at least nothing happened,” Roy pointed out, in an attempt to douse the sparks. “Everyone’s in one piece.”
Varick looked down at the unconscious man and then to Bruce. “How did he know you were here?”
“No clue,” Bruce muttered. “But apparently, Scorcher’s put a hit out on me.”
Roy laughed. “Well, that was dumb of them. They just prematurely revealed their hand. Surely they must’ve known that a couple of second-rate thugs wouldn’t be enough to get the job done.”
Bruce contemplated the situation. “This wasn’t a planned attack...I just happened to be in the neighbourhood and this goof thought it smart to take a crack at it.”
Santos nodded in agreement. “Yeah, well, either way, it seems like Brooklyn isn’t a safe spot for you, Bruce. It’s crawling with Scorcher’s loose cannons, and they’re ready to strike out
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