Hardbingers

8

The obvious move would have been to go home and keep his head down. But Jack wanted to know if the suits had been able to triangulate on him. If so, they'd either wait outside Julio's to grab him, or follow him home.

So after sticking the disk on that cab's license plate, he'd returned to the table and kept an eye on the door and front window.

Half an hour passed with nothing. Then an hour. Good. Looked like he'd been lucky. But just to be sure, he'd duck out through the back alley.

He was reaching for his jacket when he saw a familiar face pop into view outside the front window.

Jack ducked his head as alarm dieseled through his gut. What had they called the little guy? Zeklos? Whatever. No mistaking his Freddie Mercury overbite. They'd found him.

Or had they? They hadn't seen much of him, didn't even know his hair color. Maybe…

No, had to assume the worst.

So much for luck.

He rose and strolled to the bar where he motioned Julio over. The muscular little man leaned close. A cloying odor preceded him.

Jack winced. Where did he find these colognes?

Julio frowned. "You don' like my new scent, meng?"

"It exceeds your usual standards. You should buy another bottle and throw them both away." Jack leaned closer. "Might be a little trouble."

Julio glanced around and smoothed his pencil-thin mustache with a thumb and forefinger.

"Yeah? Who?"

Jack had been watching the window from the corner of his eye, and now he saw Miller's face pop up and down.

That nailed it. They'd found him.

"They're outside. Probably three of them. Might come in, might not. But it wouldn't hurt to get folks properly arranged."

"Okay. I spread the word. Where you gon' be?"

Jack looked around. Good question.

"Lend me your zapper."