11 Now the rain was making itself felt. It wasnÒt a clean rain you could shake loose, but a clinging wetness that smelled of concrete and asphalt. This kind of rain hid things you wanted to know and touched all your nerves with an irritating kind of anxiety. A Yellow Cab with a lady driver pulled over and I got in, giving her the hospital address. Her eyes bounced up to the rearview mirror. ÓYou want emergency?Ô ÓRight.Ô ÓYou got it, mister.Ô She hauled out into traffic and got heavy on the gas pedal. She made the first light, got right in the sequence and traveled with the green all the way to the turn. She went through a red signal, cut off a truck and went up the ramp as neatly as any ambulance. I handed her a ten-spot and didnÒt ask for change. Sickness and injury never stop in the big city. It was a real bloody night in the emergency room, spatters of red on the walls, trails stringing along the floors, smeared where feet had skidded in its sticky viscosity. The walking wounded were crowded by stretchers and wheelchairs and my shortcut to VeldaÒs floor was blocked. Rather than try to bust on through I ran down the corridor and followed the arrows to the front elevators. I passed a dozen people, doctors and nurses, but running was common in a hospital and nobody questioned me. It was long after visitorsÒ hours and if you were there at this time, you were authorized to be there. There were three elevators in the bank and all of them were on the upper floors. I wasnÒt about to wait, found the stairwell and went up them two at a time. I stopped on the third-floor landing, my breath raw in my lungs. I made myself breathe easily and in thirty seconds a degree of normalcy came back. Wasting myself in a wild run up the stairs wouldnÒt leave anything left, and that I couldnÒt take a chance on. When I reached her floor I pushed through the steel fire door into the corridor and the wave of quiet was a soft kiss of relief. The nurseÒs desk was to my left, the white tip of the attendantÒs hat bobbing behind the counter. Someplace a phone rang and was answered. Halfway down the hall a uniformed officer was standing beside a chair, his back against the wall, reading a paper. The nurse didnÒt look up, so I went by her. Two of the rooms I passed had their doors open and in the half-lit room I could see forms of the patients, deep in sleep. The next two doors were closed and so was VeldaÒs. Until I was ten feet away the cop didnÒt give me a tumble, then he turned and scowled at me. This was a new one on the night shift and he pulled back his sleeve and gave a deliberate look at his wristwatch as if to remind me of the time, There was no sense making waves when there was no water. I said, ÓEverything okay?Ô For a second the question seemed to confuse him. Then he nodded. ÓSure,Ô he replied. ÓOf course.Ô All I could do was nod back, like it was stupid of me to ask, and I let him go back to leaning against the wall, his feet crossed comfortably. At the desk I edged around the side until the nurse glanced up. She recognized me and smiled. ÓMr. Hammer, good evening.Ô ÓHowÒs my doll doing?Ô ÓJust fine, Mr. Hammer. Dr. Reedey was in twice today. Her bandages have been changed and one of the nurses has even helped her with cosmetics.Ô ÓIs she moving around?Ô ÓOh, no. The doctor wants her to have complete bed rest for now. It will be several days before sheÒll be active at all.Ô She stopped, suddenly realizing the time herself. ÓArenÒt you here a little late?Ô ÓI hope not.Ô Something was bothering me. Something was grating at me and I didnÒt know what it was. ÓNothing out of order on the floor?Ô She seemed surprised. ÓNo, everything is quite calm, fortunately.Ô A small timer on her desk pinged and she looked at her watch. ÓIÒll be back in a few minutes, Mr. Hammer ...Ô Now I knew what the matter was. That cop had looked at his watch too and his was a Rolex Oyster, a big fat expensive watch street cops donÒt wear on duty. But the real kicker was his shoes. They were regulation black, but they were wing tips. The son of a bitch was a phony, but his rod would be for real and whatever was going down would be just as real. I said, ÓHow long has that cop been on her door?Ô ÓOh ... he came in about fifteen minutes ago.Ô It was two hours too soon for a shift change. ÓDid you see the other one check out?Ô ÓWell, no, but he could have gone ...Ô ÓThey always take these elevators down, donÒt they?Ô She nodded, consternation showing in her eyes. She got the picture all at once and asked calmly, ÓWhat shall I do?Ô ÓThis a scheduled call you make?Ô ÓI have a patient who needs his medication.Ô ÓWhere are the other nurses?Ô ÓMadge is on her coffee break. I hold down the fort while she goes.Ô ÓAll right, you go take care of the patient and stay there. What room is he in?Ô ÓThe last one down on the right.Ô ÓIÒll call when I want you. Give me the phone and you beat it. DonÒt look back. Do things the way you always do.Ô She patted her hair in place, went around the counter and stepped on down the hall. She didnÒt look back. I pulled her call sheet over where I could see it and dialed hospital security. The phone rang eight times and nobody answered. I dialed the operator and she tried. Finally she said, ÓIÒll put their code on, sir. The guards must be making their rounds.Ô Or theyÒre laid out on their backs someplace. Overhead, the call bell started to ping out a quiet code every few seconds. I hung up and dialed PatÒs office. He wasnÒt in either. I remembered his trying to get Ray Wilson and had the operator put me through to RayÒs office. This time I got him. I said, ÓPat, I have no time for talk. IÒm at the hospital and everythingÒs breaking loose. ThereÒs a phony cop at the door, so the real officer is down somewhere. TheyÒre going to try to snatch Velda. If they wanted her dead, they would have already done it. Get some cars up here and no sirens. They smell cops and they can kill her.Ô ÓThey moving now?Ô Pat got in. I heard wheels rolling on tile and squinted around the wall. Coming out of the last door down on the right was an empty gurney pushed by a man in orderlyÒs clothes. ÓTheyÒre moving. Shake your ass.Ô I hung up and stepped out into the corridor, whistling between my teeth. The guy pushing the gurney stopped and started playing with the mattress. I pushed the button on the elevator, looked down at the cop who was watching me too and waved. The phony cop waved back. When the elevator halted, I got in, let the doors close and pushed the STOP button. I stood there, hoping the guy pushing the gurney wouldnÒt notice the lights over the doors standing still. The rubber tires thumped a little louder, passed the elevator, and when I didnÒt hear them any longer, I pushed the MANUAL OPEN button and stood there staring out into the empty corridor. I took my hat off, dropped it on the floor and yanked the .45 out of the holster. There was a shell in the chamber and the hammer was on half cock. I thumbed it back all the way and looked down the corridor. The guy in the orderlyÒs clothes was standing there with an AK47 automatic rifle cradled in his arms watching both ends of the hallway. His stance was low and when he swung, his coat flopped open and it looked like he was wearing upper-body armor. Half the gurney was sticking out VeldaÒs door and even as I watched, it moved out and I saw her strapped onto the carrier. The man in uniform came out with a police service .38 in one hand and one hell of a big bruiser of an automatic in the other. Unless I got some backup, I was totally outgunned and no way I could close in on them without putting VeldaÒs life on the line. A quiet little code still pinged from the hall bell. Security still hadnÒt answered. No wasted moves this time. The pair moved the gurney away from me and I knew they were headed toward the emergency-room exit. The orderly had draped a sheet over the gun on his arm, and the uniform had the .38 on the gurney next to Velda and the automatic hidden someplace in front of him. I stepped back in the car, let the doors close, pushed the first-floor button and hoped nobody tried to get on. Like all hospital elevators, this one took forever to pass each level and before it stopped, I picked my hat up and held it over my .45. I stepped out. This time I didnÒt run. The gurney would be moving at proper walking speed, seemingly going through a normal routine, and as long as I hurried, I could meet it outside the building. There was no way this play could be stopped without some kind of shooting, and I didnÒt want anybody else in the way. Ahead I could see the entrance to the emergency room and the elevator bank they would come out of. Now they had two options, going through the crowd, taking the risk of having their weapons spotted, or heading for the walkway door where I was standing. It wasnÒ
t made for gurneys, but it was ramped for wheelchairs and with some juggling, a gurney could get through. They came out of the elevator just as I stepped outside and now I felt better. They had turned toward the walkway door and I was waiting out there in the dark. There were only a few seconds to look around for their probable course and find cover. The walkway curved down to the street, but the parking places were filled again with off-street overnighters, and the cars there couldnÒt handle a limp patient. Unless they had planned on a mobile van or station wagon, any transportation would have to be farther down the line, out of sight from where I was standing. I moved on down the walk, reached the parked cars and got in the street behind them. The doors of the building swung inward. The guy in the orderly uniform came out first, the AK47 under his arm, still covered by a cloth of some kind. He never took his eyes off the area in front of him, juggling the gurney forward with one hand while the other man pushed from behind. It finally slid through and now the phony cop had the oversized automatic in his hand, the holstered .38 ready to grab. Risking a shot was crazy. The pair were alert, well armed and probably handy with their equipment. They most likely had preplanned an escape exit if they were intercepted, and killing Velda would be a part of the play. IÒd have to get off two perfect shots on the first try with a six-foot spread between targets in dim light at a bad distance, and I wasnÒt that good to try. The gurney made the sidewalk and the two cranked it into a turn going away from the hospital. Both of them were still facing forward, both right on the edge of action. I let them pass me, crouching down behind the bodies of the cars, and when they were about ten feet in front, I kept pace with their movements. A car turned up the road, momentarily lighting up the area. The beam swept over the gurney, but the two went on in a normal manner. I stepped between the parked cars and let the car pass. It was an unmarked sedan with a woman at the wheel. It seemed like an hour had passed, but it had only been a few minutes. Hell, traffic was light. A squad car could have been here by now. Another set of lights turned up, a truck dropped down a gear and lumbered up the hill. I moved down two car lengths, still staying close, still silently swearing at the frus-trating delays in emergency police actions. A car made the U-turn at the hospital and came toward me from the other direction and only when it got past me did a raucous blast from a loudhailer yell, ÓFreeze! Police!Ô and the power lights from the truck turned night into day, blinding the two men in the glare. Everything happened so quickly there was a hesitancy in the movements the men made. The orderly wasted one second trying to strip the cloth from the AK47 and a pair of rapid blasts took him down and out. The phony cop jammed himself down in a crouch and his gun came up to shoot through the bottom of the gurney. He was out of sight of the others, but not out of mine, and I squeezed off a single round that took him in the shoulder and spun him around like a rag doll. I was standing and had my hands over my head so the cops wouldnÒt take me out with a wild shot figuring me for the other side. Pat came running up, a snub-nosed .38 in his fist, and said, ÓYou okay, Mike?Ô ÓNo sweat.Ô I took my hands down in time to yell and half-point behind Pat, and he turned and fired at the phony cop who had pulled his .38 out of the holster and was about to let go at the gurney again. Pat put one into the side of his head, blowing his brains all over the sidewalk. They all came out one side, so his face was gory, but still recognizable. The area was cordoned off so fast no spectators had a chance to get near the bodies. Two cops took the gurney out to the truck, lifted it in the back way, and the lady cop from the first car got in with Velda and the unit lurched ahead, made a turn in the street and headed west. Pat took my arm and hustled me toward his own unmarked cruiser close by. I said, ÓWhere did you guys come from?Ô ÓCome on, pal, I alerted this team as soon as you headed over here.Ô He yanked a portable radio from his pocket and said into it, ÓCharlie squad, what have you got?Ô There was a click and a hum and a flat voice answered with, ÓOne officer down in the patientÒs room, Captain. We have a doctor here who says he was sapped, then drugged. There are two syringes on the bed table, both empty.Ô ÓIs the officer okay?Ô ÓVital signs okay, the doc says.Ô I tapped Pat on the shoulder. ÓTell him to check the last room down the hall on the right.Ô He passed the message on and a minute later the receiver hummed and the voice said, ÓGot a nurse down in there too, Captain. She got the same treatment. The patient who was here is gone.Ô ÓHe sure is,Ô Pat told him. We went to get into the car when the radio came alive again. Pat barked a ÓGo aheadÔ and the cop on the other end said, ÓCaptain, four hospital security guys just got here. They answered a call in the basement and wound up locked in a storeroom.Ô ÓGood. Get a statement from them and check both those rooms out.Ô ÓRoger, Captain.Ô He turned the key and put the car in gear. Up ahead the truck was turning the corner and he leaned on the gas to catch up to it. ÓMind telling me where weÒre going?Ô ÓFor tonight youÒre going fancy. The Ice Lady is putting you two up in her apartment.Ô ÓGreat,Ô I said. ÓWhatÒs that supposed to mean?Ô ÓNothing.Ô ÓYou two arenÒt going to be targets any more. The crapÒs over, finished. Dr. Reedey is meeting us at CandaceÒs to check Velda out. WeÒll hold you there overnight and get you squared away tomorrow. If you two werenÒt friends, IÒd slap both of you in a prison ward to keep you out of trouble.Ô ÓDid you get a good look at the guy you shot?Ô ÓI got a good look at both of them.Ô ÓMake Ñem?Ô He yanked on the wheel, pulling around a car and coming up directly behind the truck. ÓThe slob playing cop was Nolo Abberniche. He started out as a kid with the Costello bunch. That bastard has knocked off a half dozen guys and all he has are three arrests on petty offenses.Ô ÓYou seem to have a good line on him.Ô ÓPlenty of fliers, nationwide inquiries. Pal, you are traveling in some pretty heavy company. That other guy was Marty Santino. HeÒs another hit man, but he likes the fancy jobs. This one was right up his alley.Ô ÓWhoÒs paying for it, Pat?Ô ÓThat died with those hoods. You know damn well we wonÒt find anything to tie them in directly with any of the mob boys, but we sure as hell know thereÒs a connection somewhere.Ô ÓBeautiful,Ô I said. ÓWe wait for them to make another run on us.Ô ÓNot this time, Mike. You drop the code leading to a truckload of coke down our throats and weÒre going to treat you like royalty until it shows up. They donÒt know we own Anthony DiCicaÒs little secret. Well, once itÒs in our hands they can go back to business as usual. YouÒre going to be our little secret too.Ô ÓWhatÒs that supposed to mean?Ô I asked him. ÓSimple, pal. WeÒre taking you and Velda right out of the action. Both of you are too important as witnesses and possible targets to be exposed during the mop-up. I know damn well youÒre not going to let her out of your sight, so weÒre setting both of you up at a safe house of our choosing. Any objections?Ô ÓNo.Ô ÓGood. I thought youÒd do it my way for once. YouÒll be covering Velda and weÒll be covering both of you just in case. It may seem redundant, but we donÒt want to take any chances.Ô I nodded and looked back at the buildings passing by. The truck slowed, edging toward the curb, and pulled to a stop in front of the apartment building. The way the doorman came out to run us off youÒd think we were from Mars, but when the blue uniforms showed, he backed off fast, held the doors open while the gurney came out and helped get it on the service elevator. I squeezed on beside it, and when I did, VeldaÒs eyes fluttered, then opened, and she looked at me. She didnÒt know what had happened or where she was, but she knew me and smiled. Candace was waiting at her apartment and she wasnÒt alone. Bennett Bradley and Lewis Ferguson were deep in conversation, and Coleman and Carmody were at the bar. They stopped what they were doing to help get Velda into the bedroom where Burke Reedey was laying out his supplies. There was nothing I could do so I went to the bar and made a drink for myself. ÓMake one for me too, please,Ô Candace said. I mixed the highball, turned around and handed it to her. ÓAppreciate your lending us the apartment.Ô ÓAnd I appreciate your trying to make me president.Ô ÓThey shoot at presidents,Ô I said. ÓThey shoot at cops too.Ô We clinked glasses, each taking a good pull at a drink. ÓHow is Ray doing with the code?Ô ÓAll we can do is wait. HeÒs
linked in with Washington and Langley, and all we know is that it isnÒt an ultrasophisticated concept. Apparently he had a working knowledge of codes, and with the repetition the computers can deliver, it shouldnÒt take long.Ô ÓWhoÒs going on the bust?Ô ÓA select group. WeÒre assuming itÒs within driving distance and the coordination is coming under federal jurisdiction. They can organize assistance from any local police departments if they have to.Ô ÓWhere do you stand?Ô ÓIn the catbird seat, my wonderful friend.Ô She looked past me and pointed. Pat was finishing with the cops who had brought Velda up and was waving me over to the table where the men were conferring over a map. They had circled out an area in New York State northwest of Kingston with Phoenicia as a hub. Ferguson was a ski buff and knew the area well, but best of all, he had access to a cottage in the mountainous section and had outlined the entry roads and was explaining the placeÒs benefits. ÓFrom the building there is good three-hundred-sixty-degree visibility. Power comes in from the road, but the place is equipped with emergency Coleman lanterns, a hand pump for water if the power goes out, and always has a good supply of split logs on hand for the fireplace.Ô He shaded in a section on the map and explained, ÓThe house sits ... here.Ô He tapped the pencil to indicate the spot. ÓAnd approximately fifty yards away toward the road are two stone outcroppings, excellent positions as guard posts. A man can be stationed at both positions with a good field of fire that would cover anyone trying to gain entry.Ô ÓWhat about the rear?Ô I asked him. ÓA sheer cliff almost sixty feet high. TheyÒd have to drop in by parachute. The foliage is just too thick for anybody to break through up there without a dozen machetes or brushhooks.Ô Pat said, ÓWeÒre not dealing with trained woodsmen, Mike.Ô ÓYou can buy them, kiddo.Ô ÓNot as fast as we can move.Ô I took another jolt of the highball. ÓLetÒs give the other side a little credit. Suppose they had an observer at the hospital to catch the action. Suppose he saw what was going on and followed the truck back here.Ô ÓWhatÒs your point, Mike?Ô ÓHow are we getting out of this place without being spotted? They have men, money and machinery going for them too. They could have spotters with radios as well as the cops.Ô Pat gave me one of his noncommittal gestures again. ÓSuppose you just let us take care of that.Ô After what he pulled with the blast at the hospital, I had to give him the benefit of the doubt. ÓSure, pal, sorry,Ô I said. I finished the drink and went back for another one. Candace had it ready for me. For the first time that evening I took a close look at her. There was no dress this time, just a beautifully tailored khaki jumpsuit that would look fashionable as hell at a cocktail party or would be casually efficient for a field sweep. Whatever she had in mind, she was ready for it. Those big sensual eyes were almost iridescent with anticipation, and the tautness of her body showed right through the twill of the jumpsuit. She knew I was going to say something. She was waiting to hear it. The phone rang. Instantly, the room went quiet. She picked up the receiver. When she scanned the room with one quick glance and nodded, we knew she was talking to Ray Wilson. She picked up a ballpoint pen, stripped a page off the pad beside the phone and began writing down the instructions. She finished, thanked him and hung up. ÓWe have the location of the truck,Ô she said. ÓItÒs in a barn on a farm north of Lake Hopatcong on Route Ninety-four, just before coming into Hamburg.Ô Bennett Bradley said, ÓIÒll alert the Jersey highway patrol, and they can pick us up on the other side of the George Washington Bridge with an escort.Ô ÓYou want any county police on this?Ô ÓForget it,Ô Bradley told him. ÓWe donÒt want to divulge any details of the site.Ô He went back to the map they were using for our relocation and found what he was looking for. ÓHere,Ô he said. ÓWeÒll have two more cars meet us at the junction of Routes Fifteen and Ninety-four.Ô He picked up the phone, called the operator for the number of the Jersey highway patrol, then dialed it. Ferguson was thumbing through a pocket-size pad of his own and told Carmody, ÓIf we start crossing agency lines on this, weÒll have one hell of a mess. Now, who wants it?Ô ÓHow many men do you think weÒll need?Ô Carmody asked him. ÓAt least a dozen, heavily armed, to guard that stuff. We may be able to keep the raid quiet, but we canÒt plan on it.Ô ÓThat load has got to be moved out. If the trailerÒs in good shape, weÒll need a tractor to haul it and at least four mobile units for cover. The state guys can lead and be the tail on the convoy.Ô ÓOkay,Ô Frank Carmody told him. ÓThis whole thing is going to be interstate, so let me handle it. The FBI can get on this from our local offices a lot faster than Langley can. That satisfactory?Ô ÓFine by me,Ô Ferguson agreed. ÓIÒll stay on this end getting Hammer and his lady out of the area. Now, whatÒs the time schedule going to be like?Ô Both of them glanced at Bradley, who was putting the phone down. ÓThat guyÒs ready right now,Ô Carmody muttered. ÓHe wants to make some points before his replacement gets here. CanÒt blame him at all. However, he waits on this one. That stuff has been there so long a few more days wonÒt matter. The major thing is we know where it is and we donÒt want to chance losing it at this point by a lot of hasty maneuvering.Ô Bradley came back, smiling gently, then raised his eyebrows at Carmody and Ferguson. ÓYou two would make terrible poker players.Ô Carmody frowned, annoyed. ÓWhat?Ô ÓI donÒt plan to barge right in on this,Ô Bradley told him. You could see the relief on their faces. Bradley said, ÓOne car will make the run first. We want the exact location, photos taken of the area, then weÒll regroup for a final planning. The Jersey police will be given full authorization to work this under our command and will move on it the minute we call them.Ô ÓWhoÒs going in the car?Ô ÓGuess,Ô Candace said. ÓYou think thatÒs practical?Ô Ferguson asked her. ÓA man and a woman riding together is a natural, gentlemen. Besides, IÒm the only one who knows the fine details of the terminal point. Mr. Bradley and I will make a good team.Ô Bradley gave her a smile and a half bow. ÓItÒs settled then.Ô ÓAnd when do Velda and I move out?Ô I asked. It was Ferguson who said, ÓFirst thing in the morning, buddy. We want to get you out of here at first light and settled in with guards on post before nightfall.Ô ÓVeldaÒs going to need clothes.Ô Candace said, ÓWeÒre both about the same size. I can outfit her with what sheÒll need.Ô I was going to object, but Pat stopped me. ÓDo it that way, Mike. And you can pick up what you need from any store in the area. I wouldnÒt suggest your going back to your apartment. You got any cash on you?Ô ÓEnough,Ô I told him. ÓHow much ammo you got for your forty-five?Ô ÓTwo full clips.Ô ÓPick up a box.Ô ÓWho am I supposed to kill, Pat?Ô For the second that he said nothing, I saw the note in my mind. You die for killing me. ÓIÒm sure youÒll find somebody,Ô Pat said jokingly. Burke Reedey had changed VeldaÒs bandage and helped her straighten up her hair. Under the makeup the signs of discoloration had almost faded and the swelling around her eye was nearly gone. Her lips were back to their natural shape and fullness, and I sat on the edge of the gurney and laid my palm against her cheek. ÓHow you doing, baby?Ô Her smile started before her eyes opened, then she said, ÓAt least IÒm not pregnant.Ô ÓClever thought.Ô ÓLife around you is never dull, Mike. Dangerous, but never dull.Ô ÓSorry, kitten.Ô My fingers brushed the edges of her hair lightly. ÓBurke didnÒt want to tell me what happened.Ô ÓHow much do you remember?Ô She closed her eyes, thought about it a moment and looked up at me. ÓI had been asleep. The doctor had given me a sedative. There seemed to be some noise that wakened me, and I knew somebody was in the room, but I thought it was Burke who had come back. Then a needle went into my arm and I was back asleep again. There were shots. I do remember shots, but they were part of my sleep.Ô Her eyes narrowed discernibly. ÓThey were shots, werenÒt they?Ô ÓTwo guys who tried to snatch you were killed.Ô ÓYou?Ô ÓI hit one in the arm, but Pat knocked him off. Snipers got the other one.Ô ÓMike ... why me?Ô ÓTo hurt me, doll. They still thought they could squeeze me for information I didnÒt even have, if they had you.Ô ÓWhatÒs happened?Ô ÓNow we know what they want. ThatÒs why weÒre getting off the scene until this event is over.Ô ÓSince when do you cut out, Mike?Ô Her voice had an angry tone. ÓWhen you need somebody to cover your ass, doll. Now
shut up and take it as it comes.Ô I leaned forward, cradling her head in my hands, and kissed her mouth. Then her hands came up and held me too, and our mouths were soft and gentle together, full of warmth that I had missed so badly. Behind me, Candace coughed softly, and I eased Velda back. Burke had given her another sedative and she was getting sleepy. She had another jumpsuit outfit over her arm. ÓLet me dress her now,Ô she said. ÓThen sheÒll be ready for the trip.Ô I nodded and went outside, half closing the door. Pat was on the telephone, two new plain-clothes cops were in the room, and the other three were bent over the map again. Five minutes later Candace came out and shut the door gently. ÓThereÒs a suitcase of casual things and some underwear by the door. My shoes will be a little oversize on her, but it wonÒt matter.Ô ÓThanks, I appreciate it.Ô ÓI saw the way you kissed her.Ô ÓWeÒre old friends.Ô ÓBullshit. Why donÒt you just say you love her?Ô ÓWhy do girls always think×Ó ÓBecause weÒre jealous, Mike. When a girlÒs not in love, sheÒs jealous of anybody else who is.Ô ÓYou know ...Ô Candace put her finger on my mouth. ÓDonÒt say anything silly, big boy. We had a few wild moments and it was good. Crazy, but very good. You realize it never would have lasted for us.Ô I grinned at her and gave her hip a little pat. ÓCall me when the screwballs think they have you cornered.Ô ÓWhen will that be?Ô ÓWhen youÒre president, kiddo.Ô Pat turned that sharp look on me when I said the word, and we both remembered we still had Penta in the picture somewhere. He was going to eliminate the vice president of the United States, but first he had to finish a job for himself.
Mickey Spillane - [Mike Hammer] Page 11