The diner door opened and caught a springy little piece of metal attached to an old brass bell. Long Barrel Darrel instinctively closed the gap between his left arm and his chest, in between was his 12 inch custom made Huntington .22.
He looked around the diner from left to
right. He didn't particularly like it. The entire wall behind him was nothing
but thin window glass. The sidewalk outside was short and the street was behind
it was busy. The windows were lined with booths and a long bar was on the other
side of the aisle. At his far left LBD spotted Jacqueline Bloom sipping tea and
reading a newspaper. "So what's good here?" LBD asked as he
took a seat.
"Everything and nothing," said Jacquie
from behind his paper.
LBD liked Jacquie. He looked up to him,
but he didn't like him much whenever he got into one of his ominous moods.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Stick to something simple. The pancakes
are good."
The aging waitress with a big ass
appeared at the edge of their table. "Hey sweetie, what can I get'cha tonight?"
"I'll just start off with coffee. Is it
really strong?"
"Yeah, it's pretty strong," said the
waitress.
LBD looked over at the glass container
of sugar that you don't see much in restaurants any more, one of the ones that
bigger than a soda can. He lifted it up, inspected it, and sat it down closer
to his reach.
"Okay, yeah just the coffee. Do you guys
bring out a whole pot?"
"We can."
"Yeah that'd be great," LBD said. The waitress
looked at Jacquie, who kept reading his paper. She left. LBD looked at Jacquie
and sighed loudly.
Jacquie folded his newspaper three times
and set it aside, "So?"
"So," replied LBD.
Jacquie folded his hands in front of
him. The hand wrapped in white bandages he put on top of his other. LBD looked
down and then back up.
"How do you think its going?" asked
Jacquie
"Its going pretty good."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Things aren't exactly what they fucking
seem to be, are they?"
"No," said LBD giving a little laugh,
"things are definitely not what they seem to be. I mean the gas station with
all the hardware? That, I didn't expect."
"Yeah that's a little fucked up, I
guess, when I think about it."
"Yeah, what if a shootout broke out over
getting them guns. Everyone would be dead for sure."
"One of the reasons they are where they
are."
LBD thought about that for a second,
"Yeah, you're probably right." He thought about something for another second,
"And those people that botched the Austin Tellamore job (#25), what the fuck
was that?"
Jacquie straightened up, "That is
exactly why I wanted to talk to you, LBD."
"Oh yeah?"
"They followed me half across Grimland
last night."
"What?"
The waitress returned with a cup and a
pot of coffee. They stopped talking until she was gone. LBD poured a cup for
himself and added a lot of sugar as Jacquie went on talking.
"I made'em pretty quickly and took off
running." He looked around the diner and lowered his head, "I ran. They gave
chase. I don't like to be chased. I doubled back around and got one of them.
Then..."
"What?"
"They flew."
"They what?" asked LBD as he shot
back-straightened in his seat.
"Flew," Jacquie let that sink in a
second. "They flew that night on the roof top. They flew last night. I went
back around to check the guy I shot and he or she was gone too. I know I nailed
him so they must have gone back..."
"Hold on, wait, Jacquie...you're fucking
loosing it man. The Tellamore job was way fucked. No doubt about that, but what
you're saying is crazy. You told me they got across to another roof from a fire
escape that broke as soon as they were over."
"I told you that because I was fucking
freaked. Now shut up. There is something bigger than us here. I know it.
Gillingham has hinted at it. Simon is missing, probably dead. I'm worried about
Cherry going deeper into the Rabbit hole. There is something brewing in the
Syndicate. Something bad is happening that I can't explain."
"Jacquie we kill people. We kill a lot
of people."
"Most of the deserve it."
"So? We kill because we're told to kill.
We're told to kill because someone benefits from someone else dying. We get
vast sums of money to kill. All I've ever been good at is killing. These people
make sure I get to do that and stay out of jail."
"Motherfucker, do you not get what I'm
saying?"
"No, Jacquie, I have no ideas what you're
talking about!" The men talk in loud whispered bursts close to one another.
"This is all going to come crashing
down. Mark my words. Shit is being put into a pitchers hand. The Syndicate is
going to change. We may be there for it but we may end up as casualties."
"You're talking about war."
"I'm talking about the war."
"What?"
"The end."
"Alright, alright, I'm going to allow a
small corner of my brain to believe you. What do you want from me?"
(The day of the Tattoo)
