to Vlad. "You can try it if you like."
Vlad took the piece of paper, twirled the combination lock a few times and pulled opened the safe door.
"Smell this place?" said Eddie, looking around the shop. "Oil and solvent. Fucks up a dog's nose. Old man used to keep one around, to protect the yard. After a while the thing couldn't smell for shit. Ran into the same thing in Nam. Dogs used to smell for Charlie piss in the field. The ammonia. If they hung around the motor pool to long, they were useless." Eddie looked at Vlad and smiled. "All I gotta do is line the rim of the safe with axle grease. If they try to pop us, drug sniffing dog won't smell shit."
Vlad nodded. He shut the safe, spun the lock and slid the box back in place.
"I never asked," he said. "What happened to you?"
Eddie wheeled back and looked down.
"Viet Nam," he said. "Took one in the back from an AK-47."
"Kalishnikov," said Vlad.
"Slug's still in there," said Eddie. "Army doctors wouldn't take it out. Too risky, said it could kill me." Eddie rolled over to the hidden safe. "The Chinese doctors can take it out and fix the connections in my spine. Stem cells, man. Stem cells."
* *
After Vlad left, Eddie made a call to his fence to convert the three hundred k he had to cut diamonds.
Chapter 10
Martin Green at the Tiger's Den
Martin Green hung outside the Tiger's Den, just out of sight in the darkness, looking at the front door. Used to panhandle around the front door and parking lot, hitting up whoever came near, being polite, saying "Sir, sir?" Following them to their cars. Three kinds- ones that gave money, ones that didn't, and ones that got nasty. Didn't matter. All were worth a shot.
Tried to go inside a couple of times, but didn't make it past the bouncer at the front door. Heard the music, caught a glimpse of a girl on stage, guys stuffing bills into her g-string. The bouncer with the funny accent grabbed him by the collar, dragged him through the parking lot and threw him into the street. Told him the second time if he tried to come in again he would break his legs.
No panhandling today. No more "Sir, sir," thanks to the loaded 38 he found in a garbage can near the corner of 8 Mile and Dequindre.
The dudes in there had money. They might have less when they came out, but they still had some.
* *
Vlad was on his cell phone in the back office when the bouncer poked his head in the door. Vlad waved him in. He took the phone from his ear and held his other hand over the microphone. "What is it?" he said.
The bouncer motioned toward the direction of the parking lot.
"The little beggar," he said. "He is back."
Vlad put the phone to his ear. "I will call you back," he said. He listened for a moment and said, "Okay, Lamtumire."
Vlad snapped the phone shut and looked at the bouncer.
"Where?"
"Parking lot," said the bouncer. "Do you want me to handle?"
"Not this time," said Vlad. He stood and walked over to an aluminum Louisville Slugger softball bat propped in a corner by the brown leather couch. He picked it up, tapped the barrel in the palm of his hand and said, "Get the car ready."
* *
Martin was too close to the lights in the parking lot. He shuffled to the back of a green dumpster near the cinderblock retaining wall and crouched down, holding the 38. It felt good in his hand. Felt….powerful.
Two men walked out the front door, one tall and one short, laughing. One of them wobbled, then stumbled. Martin took a quick look around, gripped the 38 and walked toward them. He stopped in front of the tall guy. Martin pointed the gun at him and said, "Gimme your wallet."
The two guys looked at each other, then at the 38.
"I said gimme your wallet, goddamn it," said Martin. The 38 shook in his hand.
The two guys ducked, waving their arms in front of their heads.
"Whoa," said the tall guy. "Wait a minute, okay?" The tall guy reached around, pulled out his wallet and held it out. "Here, take it."
Martin
Vlad took the piece of paper, twirled the combination lock a few times and pulled opened the safe door.
"Smell this place?" said Eddie, looking around the shop. "Oil and solvent. Fucks up a dog's nose. Old man used to keep one around, to protect the yard. After a while the thing couldn't smell for shit. Ran into the same thing in Nam. Dogs used to smell for Charlie piss in the field. The ammonia. If they hung around the motor pool to long, they were useless." Eddie looked at Vlad and smiled. "All I gotta do is line the rim of the safe with axle grease. If they try to pop us, drug sniffing dog won't smell shit."
Vlad nodded. He shut the safe, spun the lock and slid the box back in place.
"I never asked," he said. "What happened to you?"
Eddie wheeled back and looked down.
"Viet Nam," he said. "Took one in the back from an AK-47."
"Kalishnikov," said Vlad.
"Slug's still in there," said Eddie. "Army doctors wouldn't take it out. Too risky, said it could kill me." Eddie rolled over to the hidden safe. "The Chinese doctors can take it out and fix the connections in my spine. Stem cells, man. Stem cells."
* *
After Vlad left, Eddie made a call to his fence to convert the three hundred k he had to cut diamonds.
Chapter 10
Martin Green at the Tiger's Den
Martin Green hung outside the Tiger's Den, just out of sight in the darkness, looking at the front door. Used to panhandle around the front door and parking lot, hitting up whoever came near, being polite, saying "Sir, sir?" Following them to their cars. Three kinds- ones that gave money, ones that didn't, and ones that got nasty. Didn't matter. All were worth a shot.
Tried to go inside a couple of times, but didn't make it past the bouncer at the front door. Heard the music, caught a glimpse of a girl on stage, guys stuffing bills into her g-string. The bouncer with the funny accent grabbed him by the collar, dragged him through the parking lot and threw him into the street. Told him the second time if he tried to come in again he would break his legs.
No panhandling today. No more "Sir, sir," thanks to the loaded 38 he found in a garbage can near the corner of 8 Mile and Dequindre.
The dudes in there had money. They might have less when they came out, but they still had some.
* *
Vlad was on his cell phone in the back office when the bouncer poked his head in the door. Vlad waved him in. He took the phone from his ear and held his other hand over the microphone. "What is it?" he said.
The bouncer motioned toward the direction of the parking lot.
"The little beggar," he said. "He is back."
Vlad put the phone to his ear. "I will call you back," he said. He listened for a moment and said, "Okay, Lamtumire."
Vlad snapped the phone shut and looked at the bouncer.
"Where?"
"Parking lot," said the bouncer. "Do you want me to handle?"
"Not this time," said Vlad. He stood and walked over to an aluminum Louisville Slugger softball bat propped in a corner by the brown leather couch. He picked it up, tapped the barrel in the palm of his hand and said, "Get the car ready."
* *
Martin was too close to the lights in the parking lot. He shuffled to the back of a green dumpster near the cinderblock retaining wall and crouched down, holding the 38. It felt good in his hand. Felt….powerful.
Two men walked out the front door, one tall and one short, laughing. One of them wobbled, then stumbled. Martin took a quick look around, gripped the 38 and walked toward them. He stopped in front of the tall guy. Martin pointed the gun at him and said, "Gimme your wallet."
The two guys looked at each other, then at the 38.
"I said gimme your wallet, goddamn it," said Martin. The 38 shook in his hand.
The two guys ducked, waving their arms in front of their heads.
"Whoa," said the tall guy. "Wait a minute, okay?" The tall guy reached around, pulled out his wallet and held it out. "Here, take it."
Martin
Similar Books
