At the front of the room, the Mets jersey tapped the microphone to restore order. “We’ve heard enough from everyone now. Let’s put it to a vote. How many for violence?”
It was a close tally, but the group narrowly opted for the weight of words.
A hand went up. “So what do we do now?”
“Wait until dark,” said the Mets jersey. “Until then, there’s free wings in the bar.”
DARK
Serge and Coleman lay on their respective motel beds along the budget end of Biscayne Boulevard north of downtown.
A fully charged cell phone sat on the nightstand between them.
Because they were waiting for The Call.
Mahoney.
Coleman pointed at the old tube television with his beer. “It’s the new
“Me neither,” said Serge. “And here’s another music video they’re making smart-ass comments about.”
“Bono sure likes to lunge at the camera a lot.”
“Then there’s the other guy who has to be called the Edge,” said Serge. “What’s his deal? I mean how much attention do you need?
“It would be like if the president of the United States changed his name to the Edge.”
“Actually, that would be cool.”
“And what do the drummer and bass player think about all this?” said Coleman. “ ‘Hey, how about us back here in the rhythm section? From now on, we’d like to be called the Pussy Magnets.’ ”
“And Bono goes, ‘No, no, no, we’ve already discussed this thoroughly,’ ” said Serge. “ ‘Only two obnoxious nicknames per band. That’s the rule. There was going to be just one, but remember how the Edge made that big stink in Glasgow and started crying and wouldn’t come out of the bathroom?’ ”
Coleman grabbed the remote control to change channels. “I’m bored watching
The phone rang.
“That’s the call!” Serge flipped open his cell. “Speak . . . I see . . . Uh-huh . . . Uh-huh . . . Right, just as planned . . . We’re on it. Later— . . . What? One more thing? . . . But I don’t know any Enzo. Who cares if he’s going by South Philly Sal? What’s that got to do with me? . . . Felicia?” Serge listened mutely and hung up without saying anything more.
“Serge, did I hear you say ‘Felicia’?”
Serge remained a statue.
“Uh-oh,” said Coleman. “I’ve seen that look before.”
“We’ve got work to do.” Serge went to the dresser with resilience. “Mahoney just gave us the green light, so suit up and stay focused. This could be a big one.”
“You got it.”
Serge diligently rechecked weapons and electronics a final time, then began strategically filling pockets for the assignment.
“Okay,” said Coleman. “I got my joints and one-hitter, speed, Vicodin, a beverage . . .”
“Coleman!”
“What?”
“I said for you to get ready.”
“I am.” A miniature bourbon went into his hip pocket.
“Get ready
“This is how I always get ready for work.”
Serge slapped himself in the forehead. “Just don’t screw this up. Lives may hang in the balance.”
Soon the Firebird crept along a dark residential street.
“Serge, you keep zoning out,” said Coleman.
“I know. I just didn’t expect Mahoney to bring up Felicia like that. But I’m good.” He blinked hard a few times. “It’s just that now I have a name and can’t get it out of my head.”
“Who?”
“Enzo Tweel, also known as South Philly Sal.”
“The guy who runs the gang of scam artists?”
“And this fake DEA agent works for him. I plan to sweat him down good for where I can find this Enzo or Sal or whatever.”
Coleman grinned and took a haughty sip. “Been meaning to ask: What’s with your costume?”
“Element of surprise.”
Coleman giggled over another sip. “I think it works.”
They parked at the end of the block. Serge raised binoculars.
“What are you doing?”
Serge adjusted the focus. “Surveillance.”
“But I thought we were going to—”
“We are,” said Serge. “Just had to make an extra stop first.”
“Why?”
“Because Mahoney was a little concerned about the latest scam victim who hired him to get her money back.”
“Concerned how?”
“Just a hunch from her tone and emotional state. She might not wait for you and me to do the heavy lifting and instead take matters into her own hands.” Serge rolled down his window for a better view. “That would put her in grave danger. She’d be out of her element and not thinking straight. She paid handsomely for the mark’s home address, and Mahoney’s going to hold up his end of the bargain. He’s just building in a delay before he calls her to give us time to get in position and gauge her reaction.”
“I don’t understand,” said Coleman. “If he’s so concerned, why not forget the deal and don’t call?”
