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''Sick motherfuckahs.'' Danny hit the one he had the gun on in the face. As the dude wilted, he jumped on him and began pistol whipping the fool. I had to get him focused before we had more bodies to get rid of than Dr. Kevorkian.

"Danny, come on, we got to get Nap out of here and to a doctor." I was grabbing for him with one hand and trying to keep my gun on ashtray head with the other. The dude he was wailing on with his automatic was swearing up a blue storm in that language of theirs. "Goddammit, Danny, you got to control yourself."

"They wasn't beatin' the shit out of your brother." Now he started kicking the dude.

I was gonna point out that Nap wasn't a stranger to this particular form of rear-end action but skipped it. "He's down, Danny, he ain't moving anymore, understand?"

Danny stopped, breathing hard from exertion.

The other chump, the one that had been grubbin', smiled and I walked over to him. "Keep it up and I'll let Danny start in on your war criminal ass."

"This is just business, Zelmont."

"We ain't on a first-name basis, son. Turn him loose."

He hesitated like he was gonna make a move, but the fact I was still hefting the gun made him reconsider. "We weren't going to kill him."

"Uh-huh, just a little re-negotiating of the terms of the contract."

He unlocked Nap, then we made him get the big man's pants on. The Little Hand gangster and Danny walked him to the wall, where they let him slide down and lie with his back against it.

Danny was nodding his head. "Okay." Fast as all hell, he spun and backhanded the cat with the butt of his gun in the middle of his face. He went down and out like Buster Douglas does in every fight.

"Sure glad you made it." Nap managed a smile. Damn.

"Can you walk?" I asked him. "We gotta get you looked at." Though I didn't want to, I glanced at the pipe. It made me shiver.

"Give me a couple of minutes, will you?" He put his head back and closed his eyes, gathering strength.

"Come on, Danny, we got to take care of this other thing."

"What?"

No wonder gangbangers were always doing drive-bys; on the wrong mark, or getting their simple selves busted 'cause they forgot to take the surveillance tape out of the camera. All that kronik must mess with their memory retention. "Follow me. We'll be right back, Nap."

At my direction we crept back around the building. There were some dudes in overalls walking nearby, and we had to wait for them to move on before I went back to my ride. I drove it closer to the building and parked. Moving as quick as we could, we got the body out and brought it inside. I hoped to Jesus no one saw us.

I turned to Danny after we plopped the body down in the room where they'd tortured Nap a few minutes ago. "Wipe down your piece and leave it."

"Fuck you," Danny yelled.

"Don't be simple, fool. Is the piece registered to you?"

He cocked his head. "You know better than that, dog."

"So like I said, drop your piece here. If it can't be traced to you then there's nothing to sweat. But you keep walking around with it, the cops got a match for the holes in this boy you done."

"It was self-defense," he whined.

"We ain't got all day for this shit, Danny."

"Do like Zelmont told you, Danny," Nap said. "He's right."

Danny finally wiped off the gun and set it down, his bottom lip sticking out the whole time like the spoiled knucklehead he was. We got Nap into the Explorer and I drove back around the building. Except this time I got smart and had swathed some mud on the plates in case anyone was paying attention. Not that I thought Rudy Chekka would be complaining to the law.

I guess I was too hyped, 'cause I got turned around and went down a one-way side road. I turned back and was trying to figure out how to get out of the dump when a Shindar garbage truck rumbled past us on the road I'd been on.

"I wish we had time," Danny began, " 'cause I'd like to blast some of those Little Hand bastards."

"Let's just concentrate on getting your brother out of here," I said. "We ain't got time to follow all their trucks around."

"Follow that one," Nap said in a hoarse voice.

I turned to look at Nap. His eyes were fluttering and he was breathing heavily. "Why, Nap?"

"Just follow it," he repeated in a whisper. "They talked a lot while they were having fun with me." Then his eyes closed shut.

I followed behind the Shindar truck and started to get the tingle as we went down a narrow road. The instincts that had made me among the top five receivers in the NFL, that feeling that used to tell me where the defender was without me looking, kicked in like a mother.

"Why you fallin' back?" Danny said, pissed. "We got to get this done so we can get Nap out of here."

"We will, little brother, we will."

"Don't call me that," he said in a tone that told me he wasn't bullshitting. I let the truck get farther ahead, then I went down the path. It was dirt, so I kicked up a lot of it just like the truck had. I was betting the driver hadn't noticed my ride. We went along, then I stopped and backed up. There was another tiny road leading downhill. I followed it.

"Goddamn, this'll not only do Nap in, but us too."

Danny was right for once. The stench from the garbage pit was strong enough to wipe out a whole team of All-Pros. I figured the road must wind around it on one side. I stopped the car.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Back the fuck up."

"Stay put," I ordered.

"Man." He shook in his seat. Nap was whimpering.

I got out and walked down the path, walls of dirt rising up to my right and left. Suddenly I came to a driveway. It led upward and was bordered on one side by a concrete wall about my height. I walked up and stopped at the corner of the wall, peeking around. At the top of the driveway was a building with a satellite dish on the roof. The truck was parked in front of the building. My eyes were watering and my stomach was starting to roll from the overpowering odor.

The two who'd been in the truck had gotten out. They were wearing rubber suits and gas masks like I'd seen on The X-Files. What they were doing made me forget for a few minutes the sick feeling coming over me. They had the big doors on the rear of the garbage truck open. Both of them crawled into the garbage, then came out holding onto some packages. Pieces of rotten fruit and who knew what was falling off of them. One went back into the garbage while the other one walked around the truck and out of sight.

I kept watching the garbage diver. He put some of his packages on the ground. This cat was unloading bundles of money wrapped with brown paper and wire. I could see a couple of bills sticking out. The other one returned with a flat cart from somewhere and they stacked the packages on the thing.

I wanted to stay and watch as they carried the shit inside the building. One of them worked an electronic combination lock, and the door to the joint swung open on hydraulic hinges. My eyes were better than anybody's, despite all the years of abusing my body But even my 20/15s couldn't see the numbers he'd punched in from the distance I was at. Plus the smell and fumes had gotten the best of me, so I hurried back to my ride.

"What the fuck you been doin'?" Danny was pacing beside the Explorer. He didn't know what to do with his hands since he didn't have his piece.

"You'll find out." I could barely turn my SUV around, but finally managed to do it. Mainly I hoped them clowns down the way didn't hear us, 'cause I'm sure they were packing serious heat and we'd get blazed on. I found the main road out. There were a couple of guards standing around, and they looked at us as we got closer. I waved like I belonged there and kept going. For once Danny was on point and didn't try that prison yard stare on the gun toters.