Eye of the Burning Man: A Mick Callahan Novel (The Mick Callahan Series)

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Authors: Harry Shannon
Tags: Fiction / Thrillers
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few beats of silence followed.
    Fancy chuckled. "Ah, Mary the virgin, Mary the whore. Mary is a much nicer name than Skanky, don't you think?"
    He snapped his small fingers again. The boy on the right tried to hit me with the pipe. The move was predictable enough for me to fall back on Seal training. I stepped back out of the way, grabbed the boy's arm, used his momentum for leverage, then tripped him and drove him face down into the pavement. I dropped my right knee on his upper back and cracked some ribs to make sure he'd be out of it for a while.
    I grabbed the fallen pipe and moved back towards Fancy, not where I'd be expected to go, and caught the other boy off guard. He spun, eyes white in his face, and swung at me.
    I stepped under the pipe and brought my own weapon up. Metal clanged and echoed down the street. The boy kicked me in the shin. That hurt like hell. I growled. The pipes clanged together.
    "Wonderful, gladiators!" Fancy called. "Most entertaining."
    The boy closed again, parried my thrust and raised his weapon. Before he could bring it down, I crouched, punched once at a knee cap and twice at his diaphragm with the blunt end of the pipe. The boy sank to his knees, wheezing.
    It was over.
    I pulled the .357. Immediately, clicks echoed all around as weapons were cocked up and down the street. I kept mine pointed down at the pavement. "We don't need to take this any further, Fancy. I just want to help the girl, that's all. This is not about business."
    Fancy pondered. "It is always my business, friend. She is one of my very best, certain to star in my next motion picture."
    "Do you want money?"
    "Oh, please," Fancy said. He waved the withered fingers. "You couldn't raise the money I find in my couch. Let me think on this."
    "Take your time." I was having trouble keeping my breathing under control.
    "I pride myself on intelligent business practices," Fancy said, at last. "Still, one must always change with the times."
    "Absolutely, flexibility is a must in any business plan."
    "Also, I'm feeling generous tonight. I see no harm in allowing her to retire prematurely."
    "Thank you." For not shooting my sorry ass full of holes.
    "And as for any repeat performance of this evening's festivities . . ."
    Fancy moved his good fingers again, and the shape in the alley stepped into plain sight. He was round and compact, a dangerous looking man wearing a baseball cap and a blue wind blazer. His eyes were deep and haunted, mouth thin and bitter. He carried an Uzi like some men hold a pet.
    "I assure you, there will be no repeat performance."
    "I'm so happy you see things my way," Fancy said.
    I tucked the pistol away. "Well, it's been real. I suppose I had better be going, now."
    Fancy gripped his bad left arm with his right. He bowed. "On that we are also in complete agreement."
    I got in, started the car and backed it away, my eyes fixed on that automatic rifle. The man tracked me all the way, sunken eyes hungry. Nearby, the shadows rippled as other gang members moved on again, like an army of the living dead.
    The car left the pool of light and re-entered darkness. I shoved the .357 under the front seat. My chest was tight, pulse roaring in my ears. Mary made a coughing sound and leaned against the passenger window.
    "Please don't tell," she mumbled.
    "What?"
    "Please don't tell Jerry about finding me. Not yet."
    I did not answer.
    "You promise?"
    " Quiet . Wait a second."
    Fancy and his bodyguard finally turned and went back into the alley. I spun the car around and drove a bit too rapidly, back toward the freeway. After a moment I caught myself and slowed down to the speed limit. A minute later, as if in response, a black-and-white squad car emerged from a side street to follow us for a time.
    It worried me some, but the squad car eventually trailed off, reversed direction, and went back to the higher crime district. When my eyes left the rearview mirror and returned to Mary, she had passed out cold.
     

FIVE
     
    I

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