Tuesday, February 22, 2011

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GULA / ARGUMENT


Argument


The battle between good and evil has left the future of humanity in the hands of a reluctant savior and his band of fallen angels.
Seven Deadly Sins. Seven
souls to be saved.
unrestricted A battle between a fallen angel with the warm heart and a devil with everything to lose. Isaac
Rothe is a soldier of Space Operations with a dark past and a bleak future. Target of a murderer is behind bars, and its fate in the hands of his beautiful public defender Childe Grier. The torrid attraction to it can only get you in trouble and that before Jim Heron told that his life is in danger.
Caught in a cruel game with the devil chasing Jim, Isaac must decide whether the soldier in him can believe that true love is the ultimate weapon against the devil.




Note: infinite thanks to Phoenix, the group of "Angels" in charge of translating each book of the Black Dagger Brotherhood and now also of fallen angels. I hope you enjoy the wonderful continuation of Greed. Insurance will be an intense story, full of intrigue, suspense that will keep us the limit in each chapter. In addition, to contain the magic touch of Ward, where the passion and desire to wreak havoc on the main characters.

I can only say you have a good time and make a good read leisurely and unhurried while awaiting the next book in the Brotherhood.

Discuss and share at each entrance point of view with all of us. In the following days I'll go update the chapters.


Kisses Her friend Mary

Why Do Cats Put Paws On Their Face

GULA /



the desert, far from Caldwell, or Boston, Massachusetts, or ... sanity.

About two years after the fact, when Jim Heron and Special Operations was not long ago, think that Isaac Rothe, Matthias the bastard and he, all had their lives changed the night that bomb exploded in the sand.
Of course, at that time none of them knew what it all meant, or where they would take.
But that was the life: no man had a guidebook of its own theme park. You had to jump to attractions when they appeared, never knowing if you'd like that ... or if you were considering going to make the fucking vomit all over the hot dog and cotton sugar.
However, perhaps it was a good thing. As if to go back he would have thought that would end up dodging a demon "or trying to save the world from destruction?
Come on.
But tonight, in the dry cold that crept into the second when the sun set behind the dunes, he and his boss had gone into a mine field ... and only one was out. The other one? Not so much ...

* *

"Here is," said Matthias came up to an abandoned village that was the color of caramel ice cream with whipped cream and nuts Friendly.
were about fifteen miles northwest of where they were housed in barracks full of armed men. Since your boss and he was Special Operations, or XOps were outside the mainstream of the bodies identified, which worked to their advantage: the soldiers as they carried ID in all branches of service and used when it suited them.
The "people" was not more than four stone structures that were crumbling and a handful of wooden sheds and tarpaulins. As they approached, Jim got the balls to tie it when their night vision goggles caught green movements all over the place. I hated those damn ... tarps flapped in the wind, shadows, people rushing around as fast feet they had weapons. And grenades. And all sorts of things sharp and bright. Or in this case
filthy and sandy.
hated missions in the desert, better to kill in civilization. Although an actual mission entailed urban or suburban even more exposure, at least had an option of knowing that you were attacking. Out here, people had resources that were not familiar and that they had always nervous and tough.
also did not trust the man who was with him. Yes, Matthias was the head of the organization with direct line to God. Okay, Jim had trained to type long before. Yes, he had been under his orders during the last decade.
But all this only made him be more confident that did not want to be alone with the great man ... and yet here they were, in a "village" in the beautiful town of A-site-where-nobody-can-find- un-be-alive.
A gust of wind came up fast as a plain Nike through the landscape, accelerating the sand, picking up those tiny particles. And taken directly to strike at the collar of his camouflage uniform field. Under his black boots lace, the floor was constantly changing, as if he were an ant walking across the back of a giant and angry to piss off the bastard. You start
to feel that at some point a large palm could fall from the sky and crush you.
This journey west was Matthias idea. Something that could not be discussed in any way. So naturally, Jim was wearing a kevlar vest and twenty kilos of weapons. Together with water. Rations.
was a real beast of burden.
"Over here," said Matthias, without getting into the entrance door of the stone structures. Jim
stopped and looked around. As far as he knew, nothing but dancing breakdance tarpaulins.
He took both weapons before entering. "Minimum acceptable? This was the perfect place for an investigation overwhelming. I had no idea he had done or that he had learned to justify an inquiry, but was clear about one thing ... there was no reason to run. If this was the "why" had been brought, about to go and find another two or three types of XOps to work on it while Matthias asked the questions. If he escaped? Just what would hunt all over the world, even if it cost weeks.
could explain why Isaac Rothe had appeared this afternoon with Matthias's protege and deputy leaders. That pair were born murderers, a pair of pitbuls ready to go for the throat of anyone.
Yes, this made sense and should have noticed before ... even if it did, there would be no escape from an accounting adjustment. Nobody came out of the XOps vivo. Neither operative nor the types of intelligence that they were excluded, nor the chiefs. Die with your boots on was how you lived ... I do not know what to attack. And the point was that he had been thinking of a way out. Killing people to live was all he could do, but I was starting pounding her head. Perhaps Matthias had somehow led to change.
Time to face the music, Jim thought as he passed through the doorway.
could also fight. Only
Matthias. No one else.
Jim arms slowly down the narrow space and studied again. According to their night vision goggles, was only the other man. With a flick the switch, changed the mode of heat vision. Nothing but Matthias. Yet.
- What? Asked Jim.
Matthias was in the far corner, about three feet away. When the man's hand emerged from the sidelines, Jim took his SIGs to the fire position ... but all that his boss did was shake his head and drop his weapons belt. A quick shake and lay on the sand.
And then stepped forward, opened his mouth and saying something under his breath ...
Light. Sound. Burst of energy.
Then ... nothing. Except a shower of sand and rubble.

* *

Jim regained consciousness some time later. The blast had thrown him against the stone wall, leaving him shaken, and seeing as it was numb, could have been out for a minute.
After a couple minutes of that-the-fuck, sat warily, wondering if he had anything broken ...
Across the road, there was a heap of rags which had once Matthias.
-Jesus Christ ... "Jim was repositioned the night-vision goggles and weapons recovered after crawled through the sand to his boss.
-Matthias ... oh, fucking outstanding ...
The bottom of the man's leg like a root that had been dug from the ground, the member nothing but a torn stump was crushed at the end. And there were dark patches on his uniform of campaign that had to be blood. Jim
checked the pulse in her neck. There was but it was weak and irregular.
He undid his belt and removed it, wrapped the leather around the top of the calf stretched Matthias and strong, making a tourniquet on the limb. Then quickly sought her ...
other shit. When Matthias had been shot down, had fallen on a wooden stake. The sentenced was passed through him like a stick to sausage kebabs. Jim
squirmed and tried to see if that could stand as he took out of here ... Matthias
seemed to be loose. Well.
- ... Dan ... ny ... ...
Jim boy frowned and looked at his boss.
- What? Matthias
's eyes widened as if his eyelids were steel shutters could barely lift.
"Let ... me.
"You shattered.

"Let me ..." Screw you, Jim reached out hand to its transmitter and prayed for Isaac, not the fan's second in command, responded. Faster ... faster ...
- What do you need? Let the soft-Southerner who came to his headset was good news.
Thank God for Isaac.
-Matthias has fallen. Pump. Make sure we do not target practice while we return to the field.
- What's wrong?
-Malo.
- Where are you? Send a Land Rover and will pick you up.
"We're at forty-six degrees n ...
The weapon exploded across the road, slid a ball through the air directly to the ear of Jim ... the end that he assumed that he had beaten in the head and the pain still had to be noticed. While resting on a palm, Matthias dropped her at his side SIG ... but who knew, Jim was not shot down by any kind of head wound. Warning shot, obviously.
The only eye of his boss who worked with a light shining
ruthless "Get out ... alive ...
Before Jim could say to Matthias to shut the fuck up, he realized that something was clicking the hand that had spread. Raising the matter, found ... part of the detonator of a bomb Giving
round and round, at first did not understand he was watching. Then
knew too well what it was. Focusing
Matthias eyes, put the piece in his front pocket and scrambled to his boss.
"Do not touch the ball with this," Jim said with determination. No fucking way. Matthias
began to babble just as the curses began to yell into the headset.
"I'm fine," said Jim Isaac. Failed. I'm going back to the camp. Make sure you do not shoot us when we approach.
The voice of southern instantly became strong and firm.
-Where are you. Go ...
-No. Keep talking. Find a doctor in the barracks and make sure to keep your mouth shut. And we need a helicopter. You will need to be airborne ... discreetly. No one can know this.
The last thing I needed was out looking for Isaac in the middle of the night. The guy was all there was between Jim and a charge that he had killed the head of the organization's most deadly hidden U.S. government
never survive that fall. Literally.
But at least the secret would not be in a news briefing. Keeping silent about the shit was the modus operandi in XOps ... no one knew exactly how many there were or where they were operating and what they did or whether they were appointed by their own names or an alias. "I hear Isaac
demanded. Give me what I need. Or you're dead.
-Roger-the mirror you get into the phone. Short and out.
After seizing the gun that had been used, Jim raised his head, sat and soaked dead weight on his shoulders, and started kicking.
Outside the stone hut. In windy and cold night. Through the sand dunes.
The compass pointed the way you live, towards the north and guiding you through the dark. No benchmarks have been completely lost when the desert was a ground reflected nothing a reflection of itself in all directions. Fucking
Matthias.
May God curse.
Moreover, assuming that the guy lived, Jim had given his ticket out of XOps ... somehow, I had to type his life. The bomb was one of hers and Matthias had known exactly where to put your foot on the sand. And that only happened if you wanted to blow your yourself.
supposed What Jim was not the only one who wanted to be free.
Surprise, surprise.

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GULA PREFACE / CHAPTER 1



South Boston, now

- Hey! Wait ... that shit Save yourself for the ring! Isaac Rothe-flyer pushed through the hood of the car, ready to print the damn thing again if I had to. What are you doing my picture here?
fight promoter seemed more interested in damage to your Mustang, so Isaac reached out and grabbed the guy by the lapels of his jacket.
"I said, what is making my face here?
"Relax, you want. Isaac
approached him until they were as close as a sandwich and noticed a whiff of marijuana smoke that the HDP. "I'll
I said. No picture of me. Never.
The developer raised his hands in surrender.
"Sorry ... I really ... Look, you're my best fighter, you attract the crowd. You're my star.
Isaac shook his fist to block his ego beaten.
"No photos. Or do not fight. Is that clear?
promoter gulped and squeaked, "Yes
. Sorry.
Isaac released his grip and ignored their complaints when the image of his wrinkled face into a ball. Glancing at the car park of the abandoned warehouse, is cursed. Stupid. Fucking stupid for trusting in the ass-kissing bastard.
The issue was that the names are not so important. Anyone could type a Tom, Dick or Harry in an identity card or a birth certificate or passport. All I needed was the correct font and a machine that could make holograms forger. However, your mug shot, your portrait, your face, you mug, your big mouth .... unless you had the funds and contacts for plastic surgery in the ass, a true identification was that they had.
and just got a session in the mimeographed Kinko's. Only God knew how many people had seen. Or who had drawn attention to his whereabouts.
"Look, I was doing a favor," smiled promoter, showing a gold cap. The bigger the crowd, the more money you make.
Isaac pushed his index finger type hat.
"Shut the fuck up. And remember what I said.
"Yes. Okay. Sure.
followed by a series of, okay, no problem, and what you want, but gave Isaac back to blah blah blah.
All around, grown men out of their cars jostling each other as teenagers, the group of players, the quarterback ready for the match. The closest they would get there was the ring that was outside the fence watching.
The fact that Isaac was almost done with this source Money clandestine MMA was irrelevant. The people who were looking for does not need any help, and that happy little limelight alongside the phone number with area code 617 was exactly the publicity he did not need.
last thing he needed was an agent o. .. God forbid, the second in command of Matthias ... appearing here.
addition, it was also fucking the promoter. Unregulated fights bare-knuckles associated with illegal gambling was not something that was announced, and anyway, given the size of the crowd that was presented, the public was sufficiently big mouth.
The official, however, was a greedy idiot.
And now the question was, Isaac would fight or not? The booklets had just barely make it, according to the man who had shown ... and while mentally counting the money he would win, I was absolutely sure it would use the extra thousand or two to win tonight.
looked around and knew he had to go to the octagon. Shit ... once again fill his wallet and then go away.
Just one last time.
Walking toward the back entrance of the store ignored the hosts, who pointed his finger and "it's him." The crowd had watched him shake the shit random rate over the past month, and obviously which made him a hero in their eyes.
What was an outdated value system as he was concerned. I was so far from being a hero as could be.
Gorillas in the back door stood aside to let him and nodded toward them. This was the first fight in this particular installation, but in reality, the places were all the same. In and around Boston, there were plenty of abandoned buildings and warehouses as there were fifty boys who wanted to be Chuck Liddell, I could see half a dozen who definitely were not made nervous around a makeshift cage fight. And those little encouraging results had joined the reasons the developer to reproduce the face of Isaac. Unlike other fist fighters knew what he was doing.
While taking into account the amount of money the U.S. government had spent on his training, he had to be a total tool for not breaking skulls and eggs at this time.
And there were those skills as well as many others, who were to help keep ASP.
God willing, that could be, he thought as he entered the building. Tonight
MGM Grand poor men was about five thousand five hundred square meters of cold air stuck between a concrete floor and four walls fitted with dirty windows. The Octagon was established in the far corner, the eight-sided ring screwed and surprisingly robust.
Moreover, there were many types of construction that were in this shit.
Isaac was passing the pair of thick necks who handled the bets until they gave him their respects, asking if I needed anything to eat or drink, or whatever. Shaking his head, went to the corner behind the ring and sat with his back to the corner. It was always the last to fight because he was the draw, but it was not known when he came up. Most of the "fighters" did not last long, but occasionally had a couple of those who stayed, to be kicked at each other like two old brown bears until even he was ready to scream: Enough, already!
There were referees and things stopped only when there was an idiot panting, red face and eyes crossed, lying on his back with the winning urban warrior beside him, swaying like a whack on sweaty feet. You could go for anything, liver, and including the crown jewels and dirty tricks were encouraged. The only restriction was that you had to fight what the good God gave you at birth could not carry brass knuckles, chains, knives, sand, or any of that shit in the outfit. When the first meeting
began, Isaac looked at the faces of the crowd rather than what they were doing in the ring. I was looking for out-of-place, eyes were upon him, to the faces he knew from the past five years instead of five weeks was gone.
Man, he should not have used his real name. When it was fake ID, should have chosen otherwise. Of course, social security was not his, but the name ...
However, it had seemed important. One way to piss in the territory in which it was, make a new start like yours.
And it might have been a bit of gloating. A see-and-find me-if-you-dare.
Now, however, was kicking himself. Principles and scruples, and all that crap ideology were not nearly as valuable as a viable heartbeat.
And he thought the promoter was an idiot?
Some forty-five minutes later, Kinko's number one client stopped at the fence and cupped his hands to shout to the crowd. The promoter was trying to be everything Dana White, but it was more like Vanna in the opinion of Isaac.
"And now our main attraction ...
While the crowd on the floor went crazy, Isaac took his sweatshirt and hung it on the outside of the octagon. Always struggling with a sweatshirt, pants Athletics loose and bare feet required, but otherwise this was all your wardrobe.
When he walked through the door of the octagon, he kept his back to the corner store and calmly awaited which would be the main dish tonight.
Ah, yes. Another man tough guy with delusions of testosterone type, the moment when the opponent is bent over, he began to bounce around as if it had a jumper in the ass, and ended the show before the fight ripping his shirt in half and hitting a himself in the face.
If the son of a bitch went on like this, Isaac was not going to have to do anything other than blow on it to put your ass on the floor.
At the sound of the trumpet, Isaac stepped forward, raising their fists to chest height, but keeping close to his torso. For a minute or so good, let his presumed opponent and throw punches into the air shake as all objectives of a blind boy with a garden hose.
Piece of cake.
Except for the crowd insisted, Isaac thought the number of copies that could make a Xerox machine in sixty seconds and decided to take it seriously. Direct struck a left, he nailed the guy in the sternum, temporarily stopping the beating heart behind that bone. The following was a right hook that caught the bouncing below the chin, knocking the man's teeth and banging his head back in his spine. Tap Dancing
Lord Ginger Rogers was tough and it was tiptoeing back into the mesh. While the roar of onlookers filled the open space and rang around, Isaac came up and manipulated so the poor devil that was more jumping, nothing but a stumbling drunk whose head was spinning too fast to organize his body. And just when it seemed there would be a near dead by loss of consciousness, Isaac backed down and let the man catch his breath.
To get some great extras, had to make sure that lasted more than three minutes.
walking around in his head was five. Then back to ...
The knife turned in a big circle and slid against the front of Isaac, hitting right at the hairline. Blood flowed and effectively clouded his vision, the kind of thing that would have called strategy if the man had had an idea of \u200b\u200bwhat he was doing. Considering the way they were such blows, however, was obviously a fluke. As the crowd booed
, Isaac switched to working mode. An idiot with a knife was almost as dangerous as someone who really knew what he was doing with one, and he was not going to do cosmetic surgery this PDS.
- How does that feel? Cried his opponent. Actually came out more like a "ze Zientara Cobo eto? given his swollen lip.
The last three words the boy said in the ring.
When Isaac roundhouse kicked in the air, her blood spattered the crowd and the impact threw the man's gun grip. So this was the situation one, two ... three blows to the head and all the arrogance fell as hard as a piece of beef in a packing plant.
Which was precisely when the splendid men and women of the Boston Police Department broke into the warehouse. Instant
. Chaos.
And, of course, Isaac was locked in the Octagon.
Jumping over his opponent for dead, climb the side of two meters above the ring and jumped over the top. When he landed on both feet, he froze.
Everyone was in a struggle with the exception of a man who was just off his familiar face and neck tattooed stained with the blood of Isaac.
The second in command of Matthias was still high and massive and deadly ... and the son of a bitch smiled as if he had found the golden egg on Easter morning.
Oh, shit, thought Isaac. Speaking of the devil. . . .
-Queda, the police arrested hi-as-these came behind him, and in less than a minute, he was handcuffed. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a .... Isaac
dispensed out the officer then looked at another soldier. But the number two Special Operations was gone, as if it had never been.
Son of a bitch. His former boss now know where he was.
Which meant that the unit of Boston Police Department was on his ass was the least of his problems.

Software Gr-d295u Driver

GULA / CHAPTER 2



Caldwell, New York Jim

While Heron was on the lawn against McCready Funeral Home in Caldwell, one could imagine the interior as if he had already been on the block of two floors: Details on the eastern land, fuzzy floral paintings on the walls, lots of rooms with double doors and a plenty of space.
From his limited experience with them, funeral homes were like fast food restaurants, they all looked alike. On the other hand, supposed that made sense. As there are only a few ways to make a hamburger, he imagined that the bodies were the same.
Shit ... I could not believe he would see his own corpse.
Was dead for two days? Are was now his life?
As things stood, he felt like a fraternity boy forgotten by God that he had awakened in a strange bed. Are those my clothes? Did I spend a good time last night?
At least he could answer that: The leather jacket and combat boots he had were his, and had not had a good time last night. He was responsible for fighting for the souls of seven people from a demon and though he had won the first fight, prepared to the next without knowing what was the target. And he was still learning the ropes of angel. And, well, now I had wings.
Alas.
But maybe complain about it was a lie when his pair of magic had brought his feathered fly-ass here from Boston, Massachusetts, in a heartbeat.
Bottom line?, As he was concerned, the world had known was gone and it was apparently replaced his years as a murderer in the Special Forces a desk job.
Man, this is great. I love scary shit.
Jim looked over his shoulder. Adrian, named Vogel, was precisely the kind of crazy that would be among the pile of cold cuts lying on the cold storage, pierced, leather clad, tattooed, Ad was on the dark side and taking into account his nemesis the angel had given him last night, was on a two-way street: The dark side was also in it.
Poor guy.
Jim rubbed his eyes and looked healthier of the two reinforcements.
"Thanks for the help. This does not take long. Blackhawk
Eddie nodded.
"No problem.
Standing in the harsh winds of April, Eddie was always the rider, with that thick braid of hair falling down the back of his leather jacket. With the square jaw, and tanned skin and red eyes, Jim reminded the Inca god of war ... the bastard had fists the size of the heads of most men and shoulders above which could easily land a plane.
You know what? was not exactly a boy scout, though he had a heart of gold.
-Ok, let's do it, "muttered Jim, knowing that infiltration was outside the scope of his" work "so you better be hurrying. But at least his new commanding officer had no problems with this: Nigel, drawing archangel English, had given permission for this morbid distraction, but there was no reason to take advantage of the freedom of action.
As Jim and his boys are dematerialized through brick walls and took shape in ... sip, sip, large open foyer with a chandelier and lots of carpets and austere enough space for a cocktail ... looked around, wondering where the hell kept the bodies.
And standing in the place reaffirmed the fact that it was a distraction that just had to do. Could be in the business of saving souls, but at this point a man's life was on the line: Isaac Rothe had escaped XOps command, and Jim was supposed to kill him for that. File this under Fucking

No. Except that here was the problem: The way the bastard Matthias worked, if Jim did not end with ASP soldier, someone else would do ... and then an operation would come to Jim.
A little late for one, boys ... he was already dead.
Does your immediate goal? Deceive his old boss and find Isaac. Then I would get out to the soldier outside the country and safe ... before returning to their daily work to get face to face with Devin.
hated the delay because without doubt the devil was already preparing his next battle. But out of a life and into another has never been easier and never been cut-and-dry. Inevitably, there were tangles of what you've been before you had to cut and discarded, and this takes time.
The truth was, he owed it to Rothe. Back in the desert two years ago when Jim was needed help, the man had been there for him, and this was a debt that was not going away.
was also probably the reason why Jim Matthias had given the order. The goat was very aware of your connection and what had happened that night on the other side of the globe: At that time, his boss could have been in and out of consciousness, but had been careful enough during those dark hours transport and flight, and medical intervention to see who was around and what they were doing. According
. Concentrate. Where were the lunch meat?
"Down," told his boys when he approached a signal output.
On the way to the stairs, the three walked past all kinds of motion detectors without removing things, and then passed through the closed door one by one.
Adrian and Eddie Bring this little excursion was safer, because God knew that Devin could be anywhere at any time ... well Jim was still learning all the tricks that come from being a fallen angel, and Eddie was the master of them. Spells, potions, magic ... that shit wizard and wand were the forte of Blackhawk.
He clearly had obtained his doctorate in Abracadabra and that the HDP was not manageable.
Down in the basement level, all He was stern and clean the concrete floor and walls painted gray. The sweet smell of embalming fluid Jim was right, and as he walked along, he felt like going back in time. Fucking weird. This hide-this routine to meander around was exactly what had excelled in all those years with Matthias, and precisely what he had determined to leave.
Yes, well, well you plan, there are no perfect plans, blah, blah, blah. . .
In his first battle with Devina, had requested some information ... and the bastard Matthias was the only place to get it. Naturally, when it was that bastard, things were strictly quid-pro-quo, so if you wanted something, you had to give something and the "quo" had been to kill Isaac. After all, there was no warning to dismissal or gold Rolex for retirees in the XOps ... had a bullet in the head and if you were lucky, maybe a coffin for the corpse.
And yet it was strangely grateful: Be assigned to kill the boy was the only way to help, otherwise it would have no way of knowing that Isaac had deserted and was now a hunted man, Jim was the only one who had been left free of any charge.
But then, their situation had the "just barely" on "extenuating circumstances" of Matthias.
He stopped in front of a pair of stainless steel door marked STAFF ONLY and looked over his shoulder.
"Keep your hands, Adrian.
God knew that the angel appeared ready to fuck anything that moved ... which made him wonder if immovable would be a limiting step for him.
With a curse, Adrian was all most-holy-than-anyone.
"I only play if they ask.
- What a relief!
"But you know, it is possible resuscitation.
"Not tonight. And certainly not in this place.
-Man, you could suck all the fun at a strip club.
-Step. Tracing the broad
cold room was damn obvious why horror films used morgues for their scenarios. Among the green light from security, gurney and floor drains, the place was the perfect setting for a case of psychosis.
Although he had died and gone to heaven and all that shit, your adrenal glands still waving the flag pretty well. Then the contractions were probably less so for other people and by the fact that he was going to look at your own corpse in the face.
When he turned to the cold stores to rows of frozen cells, knew exactly what he was doing. When not to kill Isaac in time, two things would happen: Someone and someone else would be sent in search of Jim.
And that was why they were here. His former boss would want to make sure that Jim had bought the farm, so to speak: Matthias did not believe in the death certificates, autopsy reports or photographs, for he knew very well how easy it was to falsify the documentation. Besides, he did not trust the funeral, burial sites, or weeping widows and mothers, because too many bodies had been substituted for one another through the years. Verification face to face was the only way to be secure in his ledger.
usually Matthias sent his second in command to double check, but Jim was sure that was the great man himself to do so in this case. It was difficult to leave the bastard out of hiding, and Jim needed face time with the guy.
The only way forward was to use his own ass frozen as a decoy.
And a bit of the magic of Eddie. Checking
plaque with the names placed on the labels in front of the doors, he found himself between D'Arterio, Agnes, and Rutherford, James.
turning the latch, opened the door 90x60cm ... and took his body from the refrigerator. There was a blanket covering her from head to foot, his arms had been carefully collected on the sides. The air that floated out of his hole was cold and dry, and it smelled like antifreeze.
Man, with so many meats as she had seen in their violent and bloody life, this made him the creeps.
"Give me my orders," he told Eddie to gravity.
- Got the purpose of convening? Asked the angel, going to be standing on the other side.
Jim reached into his pocket and pulled out a small piece of wood that had been carved many, many years ago in the tropics, across the planet. He and Matthias had not always been in disagreement and Matthias had not always been the boss.
And back when they were both conscripts in the lowest level of XOps, Jim had taught man how to carve.
The miniature horse was done with remarkable skill, considering that it was the first and only thing that Matthias had carved. If memory failed him, had taken about two hours ... which was why he was using it: Apparently, inanimate objects were merely collecting dust. Sponges were the essence of who you want that possessed or did or will use and what remained in the space between molecules very useful if you knew what to do with it.
Jim said the horse.
"Now what. Eddie
moved quickly from the face sheet and stained with Jim Gray. For a moment, it was difficult to concentrate on something other than it seemed to have died forty-eight hours earlier. Holy Hell, the Grim Reaper was not a makeup artist, that was certain. Even goths looked better.
"Hey, do not be hard on my people, cut off Adrian. It would take one of us much sooner than some Barbie Southern California plastic melons and artificial tanning.
"Stop reading my mind, the son of a bitch. And you'd do it all the Barbie forms. Adrian
heavy grunted and flexed his arms.
"Yes. I would. And his sister.
Yep, that angel appeared to be about everything that the devil had done Devina night the official death of Jim. That or any medication with the living and breathing Barbies had exhausted any insight to come out of it.
Eddie took a metal file from his pocket and handed it by the handle.
-Grate a little of that size in the body. Anywhere is fine. Jim chose
nipples of his chest, and treble sounds were soft in the antrum of the cold tiled room again.
- Where's your knife?
Jim took the hunting knife he had been given long ago when he joined the military. Matthias had a gun identical to yours at the same time and in fact used it to carve the horse.
-Cut off the palm of your hand and hold the object tightly. As you do, imagine clearly in your mind to the person you want to come here. Remember the sound of his voice. Remind them at specific times. Look how it moves, the gestures we make, the clothes you wear, the smell of his cologne if you use it. Forcing
to focus on his head, Jim tried to call something, anything, about Matthias the son of a bitch ...
The image that is plunged into its frontal lobe was clear: it was night, was back in the desert, with the explosive chemical stench in the nose and the buzzing sound of time-of-move beating in his ears. Matthias had no legs, the left eye had almost disappeared from its socket, and the field uniform was covered with earth pale bright red blood.
- ... Dan ... ny ... Danny boy ... my boy ... "he was saying. Jim
put the knife in the center of the palm of your hand and dragged him through the skin, letting out a hiss as the steel bit deep and clean.
Eddie's voice cut through the pain of memory and ice cream. "Now
takes your hand and rub it on the wood chips. Then take out your lighter and light it. Raising your hand, blow through the flame and into the body, holding the image in your mind.
Jim did what he said ... and was surprised to see a blue glow that joined at the end of his Bic, as if the thing would magically become a torch. And hey-check-this does not end there. The flare was placed around the body, covering it with a glow.
"I've done," said Eddie.
Jim shook his Bic and stood looking at himself, Matthias was wondering what to think.
There was a time long ago when he and type had been united. But as the years passed, the bastard had gone on one side and Jim on the other. And that was before all be dead, fallen angel.
But this was not about him and Matthias.
Jim returned the sheet into place to cover his own face, and wondered how long it would take the spell to call Jim and Matthias here to see the man again
slid the stretcher in the cold room and shut the door cutting the blue glow phosphorescent.
"Let's blow this connection.
He was quiet on the way to the exit, lost in bad memories of what he had done and who was killed while in the XOps. And guess what. In addition to his adrenal glands, it seemed that his personal demons had also survived his death. In fact, I had the feeling that his sins were his eternal burden: the not so interesting for immortality was that there was no purpose to be achieved, without the possibility of lowering the trip when things got difficult and overwhelming ... and you despised.
When he and his colleagues re-emerged on the lawn of the funeral home, was back on the hunt for Isaac Rothe.
"I have to find that man," he said gravely. Although it was unlikely that they had forgotten what they were doing.
Closing his eyes, he called what it would take miles between Caldwell and where Isaac was last seen ...
Jim Huge wings deployed on its back, the pile of iridescent feathers stretched and flexed as the limbs that had shrunk. When he raised his eyelids, Eddie and Adrian were exercising their own as well, the two magnificent angels fallen from another world in the light of the streetlights.
When a car drove down the street, this is not to stop or derail squeaked their lane. The wings, as he and Eddie and Adrian, were not there or not there, neither real nor unreal, nor tangible or intangible. They were just
.
- Are You Ready? Eddie asked.
Jim looked back where his earthly form was not only hard, frozen but still a beacon for a man who had come to hate.
Although he saved the life motherfucker.
"Yes, let's do it.
Up, up and away, and all that crap: In a blink of an eye, they were flying through the dark sky and bright stars in the strong and steady winged Angel Airlines, as he called it.
Healthy and safe, resumed their search for a hunted man ... and went to Boston with a whole arsenal of weapons proverbial flash.

How To Sewin Wet N Wavy Weave

GULA / CHAPTER 3


Devina
The devil was so close to being all-powerful as he could without being the one who had created the earth and sky: I could take all sorts of faces and bodies, to become anyone in any anytime. Could imprison souls for an eternity. Commanded an army of undead.
And if you passed her, could make your life hell. Literally.
But I had a little problem.
"Sorry I'm late," as he walked quickly into a comfortable office red. I had a meeting that lasted more than they thought. Your therapist smiled
from his chair.
"Do not worry. Would you like a minute to calm down? Devina
was really exhausted, and as he sat down, put her next Prada bag. Breathing deeply, he touched his dark hair corporeal illusion that the human woman he saw and placed the leather pants with printed lizard, which actually existed.
"Work has been hell," he said, glancing to see that the bag was closed. There were stains of blood on the sweatshirt inside, the last thing I needed was having to explain. An absolute hell.
"I'm glad you called for extra session night. After last week, I've been thinking about you and what happened. How are you doing? Devina
slowly emerged from the chaos of coming and focused on herself. This was not a happy thing. Instantly, tears sprang to her eyes.

"I'm ... not good.
was forced to say something.
"The movers have already taken everything into my new house, and most are still in boxes. I spent all afternoon trying to unpack, but there is so much and I have to make sure it is properly sorted. I make sure my ...
-Devina, stop talking about the objects. "The therapist made a small entry in his black book. We get to the final planning session. I want to know how you are. Tell me how you feel. Devina
looked at the carpet of canvas and wondered, not for the first time, would he think if he knew the woman was trying to a demon. Since Devina had been in Caldwell, had been going to see a psychologist ... for about a year. He kept his true identity hidden under her favorite skin a sexy, elegant and dark, but under the surface ... especially after his first loss against Jim Heron ... shit was a mess. And this human
really helped. Devina
took a tissue from the box on the table beside him.
"I just ... I hate moving. I feel totally out of control. And lost. Y. .. scared.
"I know you feel. "A positive warmth emanated from the pores of the woman. Moving house is the hardest thing for someone like you. I am very proud of you.
"I had no time. No time to do well. "More tears. What I hated. But God had to make their collections of legitimate sites within hours, fighting, throwing them in boxes. I have not been able to review everything and make sure nothing is broken or lost.
Oh, God ... lost.
Panic broke through on his chest and made the heart throb had acquired three times faster.
-Devina, look at me.
had to force the eyes to focus through the panic attack. "Sorry
drowned.
-Devina, anxiety is not about things. It's for your place in this world. Is the space that you declare as your own emotional and spiritual. You must remember that objects do not need to justify your existence or to make you feel safe and secure.
Well, that all sounded good and perfect, but his earthly belongings were what bound her to the souls who had below, the only link he had with his "kids." During centuries had accumulated personal possessions of every soul that was taken, buttons, cuff links, rings, earrings, thimbles, knitting needles, eyeglasses, keys, pens, watches ... the list went on and on. Preferred objects made of precious metal, but any kind of metal was used, the same way as the substance reflected light, also exuded echoes of those who had owned, worn or used.
radiated printing these humans was the only thing that calmed when I could not go down to the sanctuary for a personal visit.
God, I hated having to work the land.
With a shudder, she dried her tears.
"I can not support the being so far from them.
"You need your job. You've told me. And your ex-husband is better prepared to deal with the daily care of your children.
"It is. "There had to shoehorn in their history some semblance of human circumstances. There were no ex-husband, was needless to say, but the analogy worked. Their souls were safe where I had left. Simply be killed off. There was a better place rather be than at the bottom of the pit, watching the crowd trapped forever in its walls writhing and screaming.
Playing with them was fun, too.
- where will it end? Asked therapist. After your boyfriend and you decide to end your relationship, where did you go here in town?
Now her anxiety changed into anger. I could not believe he had lost the first battle against Jim Heron ... or that bloody bastard had infiltrated their private space. Thanks to him and those other two angels, she had to take everything I had, and vacating the loft in haste.
"I have a friend who has an empty building. "Not really a friend. Just a guy who had fucked until he signed all the papers. Then killed him, filling a container of hazardous wastes his body and was sealed well. Now he was in his own basement, decomposing easily.
- And the move is complete?
"Yes, everything is there. But as I said, I have not placed properly. "But he found another virgin, which was killed immediately and put to good use protecting the mirror that returned to Hell. Although I have a security system.
If anyone violated the seal of blood in the room where were most of his most prized possessions, I would know in an instant. And how he knew it was the moment when Jim and his fellow angels had violated his space. How he saved his stuff.
While finding virgin these days was a pain in the ass. With everyone having so much sex, which had once been a piece of cake getting now was becoming more and more rare. Never killed children, it was wrong, it would be as if someone snatched one of their souls. But trying to find anyone over eighteen who had not gone through the hoop. You could be in it for days.
Long live the temperance movement, was all he could say.
"Wait, building? "Said the therapist. Do not you're staying in a building, right?
- What, no. I'm in a hotel for a while. The work takes me out of town. To Boston, actually. "Because it was time for the second battle with his nemesis.
And damn, was going to win it.
-Devina, this is a breakthrough. "The therapist patted his knee with his hand and smiled. Live away from your stuff. You've made progress.
Not really, considering that it could be anywhere in the blink of an eye.
"Now tell me, what about work? I know last week was hard. Devina
's hand found her purse and patted the soft leather.
-improvement. I'll do better.
"Your new partner. How things are going with him? I know there have been some initial friction.
"Friction? Yes, I could say that.
thought of her and Jim Heron in the parking lot of the Iron Mask, with it buried deep in her, she rides him hard. Despite the fact that he hated with a passion, would not mind having a few private moments with him anymore. Devina
straightened.
"He will not get the vice presidency. I do not care what you have to do, but I've worked too long and too hard for some to intrude and take what's mine.
Seven Pounds. Seven chances to win the good or evil. And the first had gone to the other side. Three more in favor of Jim Heron and she would not only be out of "work," but the angels would take control of the earth and each and every one of their souls redeem.
All his work for nothing: his collections gone. His army left. She ... ida.
He stared at her therapist.
"I will not win.
She nodded.
- Do you have a plan? Devina
touched the bag.
"Yes. Absolutely I have it.

* *

After the session, Devina headed northeast, jumping into the air like a shadow and flying through the night. It materialized on Boylston Street, opposite the Boston Public Garden, where the weeping willows on the pond were greening.
The modest brick box Four Seasons Hotel occupied almost the entire block, including its entrance, covered porch and the windows of the restaurants. Although the exterior was quite simple, the interior was warm wood and elegant brocade, and there were always fresh flowers.
could be projected in his room, but was wasting a whole: stamping Escada pants and blouse lizard Channel were stunning, to say nothing of his coat by Stella McCartney.
And he knew, only his second night here and the porters and reception staff and waved as he walked majestically in the lobby, their Louboutins clattering on the marble
That served to remind him what he already knew: all corporeal illusion costumes that had ever been, this, that of a brunette with legs not finished and a pair of breasts that tripped humans with their own languages, was the one who was better. Although technically it was an asexual "it" experience had shown that its arsenal of weapons was better wielded by a manicured hand.
also liked more feminine clothes.
fuck, too.
Your suite on the top floor had a magnificent view of garden and Boston Common, many large rooms and excellent room service. The bouquet of roses was a nice touch, and free.
That was what I got when were paying thousands and thousands and thousands of dollars for housing.
crossed the living room and master bedroom to the bathroom in marble. At the counter between the two basins, left her purse and pulled his sweatshirt that he had taken the MMA octagon. The t-hat was the color of fog and a size XXL. Was in any Wal-Mart or Target, was one of those anonymous clothing that could have been taken by any man, something that was easy to find, easy to buy. Nothing special.
Except this was unique. Especially given the bloodstains.
Thank God those policemen had appeared when he had done. Otherwise, he would have missed an appointment with her therapist completely.
quickly took off his clothes, tried to leave in a crumpled mess ... and lasted about a minute and a half. The disorder made her head buzzed and had to pick, go to strode to the closet and hang around where it should be. A bra that had been put on the desktop. Nothing to worry about panties.
was decidedly more calm when he returned to work in the countertop of the bathroom counter.
Taking a pair of scissors her golden makeup bag, cut a circle on the tee where the heart of the man who took her would have been. Then cut into squares of fabric, cotton fibers yielded easily and fell into the smooth marble in a small battery.
side used a scissors to cut the palm, and blood flowed from a dirty gray color as it fell in the nest he had done.
For a moment he was paralyzed with disappointment. He wanted his blood was red, far more attractive.
Truth be told, Devina hated her appearance. He felt much better with this body. And the others.
Picking up the pieces of the hoodie and crushing them in the palm bloodstained imagined the man who had taken the cloth against the flesh, seeing your face rude, trimmed beard and tattoos on his body.
still crushing on hand and keeping the image of Isaac in the head Rothe, Devina walked naked into the bedroom and sat on the quilt. In the table, opened a box and pulled ebony chess piece carved by hand, the representation of the queen as beautiful as her flesh suit. I had not seen Jim Heron to carve the great lady, but he had done and making imagined in his mind, he figured it hunched over the knife, the safe hands wielding a steel edge to reveal the object in wood. Pressing what he had done in blood on the palm, with the fibers of the tee, the merged, the merged. Then he bent down and picked up a candle lit at will. Lying, blew through the flame, the essence of the three were mixed and flowed over the flame.
The purple glow emanating from the far side of the covering, wrapping them in Phosphorescence ... calling the owners of things together, calling to her. Jim Heron
would not know that he had beaten this time. Perhaps he had won the first game, but that would not happen again.

Tiffany Granaths Husband

GULA / CHAPTER 4



When working in central processing of Suffolk County Jail in downtown Boston, saw a lot of crap. And some of the class was made to postpone the coffee and donuts.
Other classes ... were just awesomely strange.
Billy McCray had been first a cop on the beat in Southie, serving alongside their brothers, cousins \u200b\u200band old. After he had been shot, some fifteen years ago. The sergeant had arranged to have this desk job ... and had been installed not only his wheelchair neatly under the edge of the counter, also was damn good pushing papers. Arrests had begun recording and taking pictures for the cards, but now he was in charge of everything.
Nobody sounded even nose at this place until Billy did not tell them it was OK to use a kleenex
And he loved what he did, even if he became hell strange sometimes.
As the first of this morning. Six am was registered to a white woman who had been wearing a couple of cans of Coca-cola as a liner, the two aluminum numbers stuck on the bottom of her breasts and pointing straight out. I had the feeling that this photo would end up in the web of "most wanted" and she probably would enjoy the exhibit, but no, she wanted to show her ... well, cans.
People. Honestly. Taken
adhesive was easy to leave, but you were serving drinks in paper cups simple just in case I had another bright idea ...
When the steel door opened down the hall, Billy straightened in his chair.
The woman who entered was a sight to behold, right, but not for the reason that most of the geeks who were here. It measured 1.75 m and had blond hair was always braided on the head. He was wearing a perfectly fitted suit and a long coat and formal, he I knew without asking that her purse and briefcase worth more than what he had in his retirement plan 401.
say nothing about that big gold chain around his neck.
When the forward pair of cops, they also straightened the columns and lowered their voices ... and immediately looked over his shoulder to take a look at his back.
And when she came to the Plexiglas partition in front of him, was pleased to have slipped back, because he could smell her perfume.
God ... was always the same. The aroma of rich and opulent.
"Hi Billy How are you Tom at the Police Academy?
Like many of the class Beacon Hill, the intonation of Childe Grier was a simple question that seems better than something that Shakespeare would have written. But unlike those ass-tight, she was insolent and her smile was genuine. Whenever asked about his son and his wife and looked really, finding his eyes as if he was more than just a desk jockey.
"He's doing very well," Billy grinned and crossed her arms over her swollen breast. She will graduate in June. Work in Southie. It's a shooter like his father ... the guy could give a can from a mile.
Unfortunately, that reminded him of the girl-Coke, but pushed off-road image. Much better to enjoy the sight of Miss Childe, a lawyer.
"It amazes me that Tommy is an ace. -Signed into the board and put a hip against the counter. As you say, has come to you.
Even after two years of this, I still could not believe she stopped to talk to him. Yes, of course, the types of district attorney and public defenders gave regular soap, but she came from one of those prestigious colleges and law firm with character ... and often that meant that only care about data on where his clients.
- So, what are you doing you Sara?
As they talked, he typed his name in the program to remove those who had been assigned. Approximately every six months or so, she was appearing in the rotation of public defenders. It was, of course, for her pro bono. Their hourly rates were indeed so expensive, he was damn sure that clients who attended here could not afford more than two words with her, let alone a full hour ... or, Christ, the value of the case in time.
When he saw the name that was next to hers, he frowned.
- Is everything okay? "She asked.
Well, no, not really.
"Yes, okay.
Because he was in charge of who she was.
reached out to one side for a lot of records.
"Here is the documentation for your client. If you go to number one, it'll you.
"Thank you, Billy. You're the best.
After he called through the door into the reception and processing unit of the jail, she went to the room she had given ... which turned out to be just next to his office. Taking a note on his computer, he picked up the phone and called cells. Shawn C
When answered, he said: "Get
the number five to four-eight-nine to seventy, last Rothe. For our Miss Childe.
A small silence.
"It's a big guy.
"Yeah, listen ... can you talk to him? You may remember him as being polite with his attorney will make things easier.
There was another pause.
"And I will be right outside the door when you're with her. Tony I will cover below.
"Well, yes, that's fine. Thanks.
When Billy hung up, turned to face the security system screens. In the lower left, watched as Miss Childe sat at the table, hit open the file, and looked at the reports contained.
was going to keep my eyes on her until she was safely out of there.
The thing was down in the cage, there were two kinds of people: the regulars and the occasional
Occasional educated were treated and all that, but the regulars ... particularly nice, young inmates with beautiful smiles and a lot of class ... of those had to be careful.
And that meant that Shawn C., the guard would be parked outside in the hall, looking through the window of chicken wire all the time that this homicidal maniac who had been arrested for fighting in a cage to be with his girl.
If that poor bastard just breathing near it, well ... suffice it to say that Billy's tent, no one was above a small corrective action. All Officers and staff knew the dark corner in the basement where there were no security cameras and no one could hear a screaming asshole when punishment made them scream like whores.
Billy leaned back in his chair and shook his head. A nice girl who was there, really nice. Of course, given what had happened to his brother ... The hard life had a way of addressing the pleasant, really.

* *

Grier sat opposite Childe a stainless steel table in a cold stainless steel chair was opposite another chair stainless steel. All the furniture was bolted to the floor and the only facilities were the security camera on the corner and a focus on the ceiling that had a box around. The walls were concrete blocks that had been painted so many times that were mostly mild wallpaper, and the air smelled like rat poison to clean the floor, the colony's last lawyer who had been in the room, and old cigarette.
The place could not be more different from where she worked normally. The Boston offices of Palmer, Lods, Childe, Stinton & Dodd were like a museum of furniture and prints of the nineteenth century. PLCS & D had no armed guards, metal detectors, and nothing was bolted in place so that it could not be stolen or thrown by someone. There
uniforms came from Brooks Brothers and Burberry
She had been working as a public defender for two years, and had taken at least twelve months to reach terms with the reception, equipment and guards. But now, when I came here was like being in the old home, and honestly loved people.
Lots of good people doing difficult jobs in the system. Opening
report on his new client, reviewed the charges, entry forms and history. Isaac Rothe, age twenty-six floor apartment on Tremont Street. No jobs. No prior history. Arrested with eight others as part of a raid the previous night in a ring and illegal gambling den. No arrest warrant was needed because the fighters were trespassing on private property. According to the police report, his client was in the ring at the time that the police are infiltrated. Apparently the guy I was fighting was being treated at Massachusetts General.
It's nine o'clock on a Saturday morning ... Do you know where your life?
keeping his head down, eyes squeezed closed Grier.
"Not now, Daniel.
I'm just saying. As the voice of his dead brother floated in and out of his head from behind the disembodied sound made her completely crazy. You have thirty-two, and instead of trying to look good with a good boy, you're sitting here at the station with a coffee sucks.
"I have no coffee.
At that moment, the door swung wide and Billy appeared.
"I think you want something to wake you up. Bingo
, his brother said. Shut
. Above, she reminded him.
-Billy, that's really nice of you.
supervisor took what was offered, the heat from leaking paper cup in his palm.
"Well, you know. It is dirty water. We all hate "Billy smiled. But it is a tradition.
"Sure it is," he frowned when he fell behind. Any problem? Billy
patted the empty seat next to him.
- Would you mind sitting here for me? Grier
lowered the cup.
"Of course not, but why ...
" Thanks honey.
spent a second. Clearly, Billy was waiting for her to move, and not inclined to give explanations. Dragging the file
all the way, she went to another seat, back now to the door.
"That's my girl.
He shook his arm and walked out.
The shift meant I could see the steamy appearance of his young and beloved brother. Daniel was leaning casually in the far corner of the room, feet crossed at the ankles, arms folded across his chest. The blond hair healthy and clean, wearing a coral colored polo and madras shorts.
was like a ghost model in an advertisement for Ralph Lauren, one hundred percent American, a sun-kissed privileged ready to make a sailboat Hyannisport.
Except that she was not smiling, as usual. They want to face the door so that the guard outside can keep your eyes on him. And do you want trapped in the room. Facilitate getting you out of the room if it gets aggressive. Forgetting
security camera, and the fact that no one but she was speaking in the thin air, leaned
"Nobody is going to go crazy.
gotta stop this. Stop trying to save people and have a life
"Exactly as I turned my back on you. Stop and go haunt eternity.
I would. But you will not let me go.
With that comment, the door behind her opened and her brother disappeared. Grier
tensed when she heard the tinkling sound of chains and shuffling. Then
saw him.
Santa ... Mary ... Mother ... of ...
What had been brought by Shawn C. Retention was a six-foot-three inches of solid muscle. His client was "dress", which meant that a prisoner had his clothes and his hands and feet were shackled and linked with a steel chain that passed in front of your legs and around his waist. His hard face had sunken cheeks type accompanying zero body fat, and dark hair was cut like a soldier. He had some bruising around the eyes fading, a plaster on her hairline ... and redness around the neck, like very recently had been mistreated
His first thought was ... I was delighted that the good old Billy McCray would have made changing seats. I was not sure how he knew, but I felt that if his client chose, could have been lying to Shawn C. in a blink of an eye ... in spite of the wives and the fact that the guard had the constitution of a bulldog and years of experience managing large and unstable men.
eyes of your clients are not met his, but remained fixed on the ground while the guard got into the narrow space between the empty chair and table. Shawn C.
leaned toward the ear the man whispered.
He grunted something, rather.
Then, the guard glanced towards Grier and smiled very tense, as if he did not like the whole thing but was very professional about it.
"Hey, I'll be right across the door. If you need anything just call and I'll be here, in a lower tone, said, "I'll be watching you, boy.
For some reason I was not surprised by the precautions. Just sit at your client put it suspiciously. I could not imagine moving around the prison.
God was great.
"Thank you Shawn," she said quietly.
-No problem Miss Childe.
And then she was alone with Mr. Isaac Rothe.
Measuring the tremendous size of her shoulders, she noticed he was not squirming and restless, so he took as a good sign ... no methadone or cocaine in his system, fortunately. And was not looking inappropriately or watching the front of her dress and licking her lips.
actually was not looking for anything, his eyes remained fixed on the table before him. "I'm Grier
Childe ... I have been assigned to your case. "When he looked up and nodded, he continued. Anything I say is privileged, which means that within of law, not reveal it to anyone. Moreover, the security camera up there is no audio, so no one else can hear what you tell me.
She waited ... and yet he did not reply. I was just sitting there, breathing regularly, every power contained in his handcuffed hands resting on the tabletop and its massive body encased in the chair.
In the first meeting, the majority of customers who had been lounging there and did the routine sullen, or angry and offended all played with a bit of chatter exculpatory. He did nothing. His spine was so stiff as a broomstick, and was completely alert, but did not say a word.
She cleared her throat.
"The charges against you are serious. The guy I was fighting was sent to hospital with a brain haemorrhage. Right now you are charged with second degree assault and attempted murder, but if it dies, that is second degree murder or manslaughter.
Nothing.
"Mr. Roth, I would like to ask something, I can?
No response. Grier
lay down.
- Can you hear me?
Just when she was asked if he had not disclosed a disability, spoke.
"Yes, ma'am
The voice was so deep and compelling that she left breathing. Those two words were uttered with a softness that I was a total contrast to their body size and severity of your face. And ... vaguely Southern accent, he decided.
"I'm here to help, Mr. Rothe. Understand that, right?
"It's not disrespect, ma'am, but I do not think you can.
definitely Southern. Beautifully southern
actually Shaking her head to clear it, she said.
"Before you dismiss me, I suggest you consider two things. There are currently no bail set for you, so you'll be stuck here while his case proceeds. And there could be months. Besides, who represents itself actually has a client crazy ... it's not just a saying. I'm not the enemy. I'm here to help.
At last he looked.
His eyes were the color of frost on the glass windows, and full of shadows of events that stained the soul. And when that grim and exhausted gaze drilled to the back of his head, he froze the heart, she knew instantly that it was not just some street thug.
was a soldier, he thought. Had to be ... his father had the same look in his eyes during the quiet nights.
The war did that to people.
- Iraq? He asked quietly. Or Afghanistan?
He raised some eyebrows, but that was the only response he got. Grier
patted on the record.
"Let me set you a bond. Just let me start there, okay? You do not have to tell me anything about why he was arrested or what happened. Just need to know their links with society and where you live. No prior arrests, I think we can try ...
stopped when he realized he had closed his eyes. According
. The first time she had a client that was missing a nap in the middle of a meeting. Maybe Billy and Shawn C. had less to worry about than they thought.
- Am I bored, Mr. Rothe? He asked a moment later.

Needlepoint Valve Plumbing

GULA / CHAPTER 5



No. Hardly.
The voice of his public defender was a nanny spaced from the ears of Isaac, the aristocratic inflection and grammar perfect as it was strangely reassuring frightened her. At first, he closed his eyes because she was simply too pretty to look at, but had gotten an added benefit with eyes closed. Without the distraction of his perfect face and intelligent eyes, he could fully concentrate on the words.
Form in which he spoke was poetic. Even for a guy who was not involved in the routine of hearts and flowers.
"Mr. Rothe.
was not a question, it was a requirement. Obviously he was starting to get enough of her ass. Opening
eyelids a little, felt the impact of your fingernail against the sternum ... and tried to tell himself that she was causing such a big impression because it had been years since he had been close to a real lady. After all, most of the females who had fucked or worked with them had been fast approaching the limits of the law, just like him. So this, meticulously groomed, clearly educated and exotically perfumed, on the other side of the table was some kind of abnormality dazzling.
God, she would probably faint if I saw his tattoo.
and run away and screaming if I knew what I had been doing to live in the past five years.
"Let me fix your bond," he repeated. And then see us where we are. He had
useful to examine why she was so concerned about some nut who had never seen before, but had an undeniable mission in his eyes, and perhaps that explained it: obviously was some kind of demon exorcised, down here with the mob. Perhaps it was a case of guilt by wealth. Perhaps it was a religious issue. Whatever it was, she was damned determined.
- Mr Rothe. Let me help.
I did not want involved in your case ... but if she could take it out free, he could leave and would certainly safer in the outside world: his former boss would have no problem in sending a man in this prison for a charge and organize murder right under the noses of the guards.
For Matthias, that would be child's play.
Isaac felt his conscience, which had long been silent, uttering a cry, but the logic was sound: it seemed the kind of lawyer who could get that things done in the system, and as much as I hated to involve it in the mess that was involved, I wanted to stay alive.
"I'd appreciate if you could do, ma'am.
She breathed deeply, as if you were taking a breather in the midst of a marathon.
"Well. All right then. Now, it says here you live in Tremont. How long have you been there?
-Only two weeks.
He could tell by the way his eyebrows came together that would not help much.
- Are you unemployed?
The technical term was absent without leave, he thought.
"Yes, ma'am
- Have a family? "Here or somewhere in the state?
-No.
His father and siblings thought he was dead, and that was good for him. And the best for them in all likelihood.
"At least no history. He closed the file. I will address the court in half an hour. The deposit will be too ... but I know some guarantors could address to make money.
- How much you think you might come up?
"Twenty thousand ... if you're lucky.
"I can cover it. Another
brow as she opened the file, taking a second look at their roles.
-stated here that no income or savings.
When he remained silent, she criticized him and looked surprised. No doubt he was accustomed to lie to people like him, but unfortunately, he was betting his life that what he was hiding was far more deadly than the antics with the Good Samaritan who came in contact often.
Shit. In fact, he was betting on this her life, not his. Matthias cast a wide net as they arrived assignments, and anyone who stayed around Isaac was in danger of being in the spotlight.
Except that once he was out, she would never see him again.
- How is your face? "I ponder after a moment.
"Okay.
"It seems as if in pain. Want an aspirin? I have some. Isaac
continued looking at his hands shackled.
"No, ma'am. But thanks.
heard the clip-clop of high heels as she stood
-back later, I ...
The door opened and muscled that had brought him from holding rushed.
-I go talk to the judge, "she told the guard. It is a perfect gentleman. Isaac
allowed to put it right to pulls, but I was not paying attention to the guard. I was watching stared at his public defender. Even walked like a lady ...
His arm was pulled tight.
"Do not look," said the keeper. Guys like you should not even look at someone like her.
The strong hold of Mr. Manners was a little discomfort, but there were no failures in the opinion of HDP.
Even if it had a job in the garden variety and nothing more than a couple of fines for speeding, was not anywhere near the woman's league. Heck, I was not even playing the same sport.

Can I Take Expired Clonazepam

GULA /


Jim Heron
was long aware that there were two kinds of gyms in the world: commercial and old school. The first had combinations of color and women taking spinning classes fully equipped, and guys with tattoos tents to John Mayer lifting weights with padded fists. Were expected to clean the machines after use and coaches happy and spray tan you went and checked while coming.
had tried one of those just after leaving the Special Operations. It had almost become couch potato.
The old school was perfect for him and that was exactly where it came Adrian, Eddie and him South Boston. Mike's gym was a man's world, baby, the place smelled like an armpit, had walls that were worthy of a prison and had hung posters of Arnold faded since the eighties. The mats were in blue neon, the weights of iron and the only stationary bike in the corner was one of those positions windproof with a fan cage.
The damn thing was a relic and had dust in his seat. Men who did
circuits in the machines or lifting weights for free were large, quiet, and had tattoos of the Virgin Mary, Jesus and the cross. There were many broken noses that had healed crooked and some bad cases on incisors undoubtedly came from broken hockey fights or bar. Undoubtedly
everyone knew everyone because they were somehow related.
He felt at home as he headed to the reception desk. The guy behind was about sixty, maybe sixty-five years, with ruddy skin, pale blue eyes and hair that was whiter than the foam of a beer
Bass Black & Tan - What I can do for you guys? "Said the man, lowering the Boston Herald.
A couple of members took a look and went looking. Jim and her backers were not lightweights, but they were unknown, which put them in the territory of what-the hell?
-Seeking a guy, "Jim said as he pulled out the brochure with a picture of Isaac and crushed on the chipped Formica counter. Have you seen him around here maybe?
"No, I have not seen," said type without looking down. I have not seen anyone.
Jim looked around. Many eyes on them and arrested many weights. It was clear that the old press was not a smart move if he wanted to give them the ass.
"Okay. Thanks.
"No problem. "The Herald blew the place again.
Jim turned and turned the image of Isaac. As I went to the door, swore softly. This was the third place where they tried and had not gotten anything but evasive ...
"Hey. I know him. Jim
stopped and looked over his shoulder. A guy with a shirt of Boston Fire Department approached.
"My father does not like to get involved. "The guy nodded toward the brochure. Who is it for you?
"My brother. "And that was not a total lie. Were linked in a visceral way because of what he and Isaac had crossed in Special Operations, also was all that debt.
, was arrested last night.
Jim's eyebrows shot up.
- No kidding!
"A group of my cousins \u200b\u200bare and cops raided a fight. Your brother is a murderer pure. The only reason why someone entered the octo with him was the big bag, but he never lost. Not once.
- How long have you been in town?
-only seen him fight three times. "The seen was marked with pain. Listen, if a group of scumbags here wants to get together and beat each other, let them do so. But if you want to be honest, that's why they made the raid. The developer was pulling all combat least your guy.
Fucking A. Isaac in the system was not good.
"Dad, can I borrow the Herald? "The guy was stretched out on his father and took the newspaper, examining it. Here. Jim
read the article quickly. Clandestine struggles, blah, blah, blah ... Isaac Rothe? Wait, your real name?
Speaking of a target on his chest: Matthias could easily send someone to the criminal justice system to eliminate the HDP.
"If you find your brother ... "The face of the calculator turned firefighter. I can tell you where it will be as soon as you exit.

* * No more than two hours after his client left Grier and out where the judge, was back behind the wheel of his Audi A6 and stuck in traffic around the Boston Common. Fortunately, the pace picked up in Chinatown and then was out the other side of Tremont Street.
party's rush was because I had no time to take this as a diversion. He had a meeting with a Fortune Fifty company at one o'clock in the Financial District office ... and all those skyscrapers were at that time in your rearview mirror and becoming smaller.
But I needed to know more.
which was the other half of its pressing haste.
While cursed, Daniel was prepared to make appearance and looked into the backseat. When there appeared a deep breath.
really do not need the metaphysical editorial board now.
Daniel had been dead for two and half years and first came to her in a dream the night before his funeral. It had been such a relief to see him healthy and clean, and not with the flip of heroin in his sleep, they talked as they had done it before the addiction that had destroyed. The leap to "real life" had happened about six months later. One morning, he had been talking with him and his alarm rang. Without thinking twice reached out and silenced the thing ... only to realize she was awake and he was still with her.
Daniel had smiled when she stood up suddenly, as if proud of himself. And then, with his so relaxed that way, he was informed that he was not going crazy. There was, indeed, life after death, and he was in it.
It had taken some getting used to, but two years later and did not question their newspapers: hi-how-you, but keep their views to herself. After all, simply because they thought I was crazy, that did not mean that others would agree and who needed that? Besides, if he was a hallucination and it was becoming "A Beautiful Mind", well ... so it worked, so screw the mental health experts: had missed so much, Daniel, and he was back that way.
Focusing on the brick walls that rose on both sides of Tremont Street, tracked the numbers, when I could see them on the doors. At some level, I could not believe he got bail for his client, but then his lack of background and general congestion of the system had worked in his favor.
Mr. Rothe, on the other hand, had not seemed neither surprised nor pleased when I told him. All I had asked her politely and quietly go to her apartment and got twenty-five thousand dollars in cash, because there was nobody who could call to make that kind of task.
Security. No problem. Vale. Because managing
illegal cash was not an accomplice or threatened status in any way.
still shaking his head at the situation while braking before a three-storey house divided into apartments. There was no place to park in kilometers, of course. With a curse surrounding the block a few times, wondering if he dared to park in two rows, when, hallelujah, someone came out the other side of the street. It took a second and a half making a illegal U put his sedan at that site. Did not have a residential parking sticker, but it would not take a long time, and at least he was not in front of a fire hydrant.
Leaving, huddled in a slim wool coat. April in New England, near the ocean, resulted in thirty days of wind shear and moist that you froze to the bone and caused havoc on the hair. And that was not the worst, there were puddles everywhere, but it had not rained. Everything in town seemed to drip, as if the city were a sponge that had exceeded its capacity ... cars, buildings, spindly trees, all absorbed moisture from the air and channeled to the asphalt and cement permanently wet underfoot.
Definitely more LL Bean Louboutin.
In the main door home, stretched to look closely at the intercom of the seventies who had three small buttons. According to the instructions of Isaac, pulled one down.
Soon after, the doorbell was answered by a woman wrapped in a blanket Afghan drawing the size of a sheet that broke the retinas. Her hair was a mass of curls the color of a Halloween pumpkin and had a cigarette between the tips of the fingers of his right hand painted.
course, his appearance was stuck in the same era as the intercom.
- Are you the girl of Isaac? Grier
reached out and did not correct the statement. He figured it was preferable to "Lawyer." "I'm
Grier.
"He has called. "The woman fell. He told me to let you go. You know, do not seem your type.
A quick view of man sitting so silent and deadly flashed into the mind of Grier: according to this theory, the rate should be going out with a Beretta.
"Opposites Attract" he said, looking over the shoulder of the owner. Across the narrow hallway, a staircase loomed in the distance as a spiritual beacon in the light and yet unattainable.
"Well ..." The lady leaned back against the wallpaper. There are opposites, as if a person is talkative and other does not. And there are opposites. How did you meet him?
While his curious eyes were fixed on the gold necklace Grier, was tempted to reply, "the criminal justice system," to see how it would narrow the eyes of women.
"We were paired.
"Oh, how eHarmony?
"Precisely. "The fundamental points of support required from someone with a law degree is to get a bond and have a JD from Harvard. May I go home now?
-hurry. You know, my sister tried on eHarmony. The guy I found was a fucking asshole.
turned out that getting the owner up the stairs took much effort as if it had been thrown over the shoulder and taken to the third floor. However, ten minutes to deflect questions later, they finally reached the door.
"You know, the owner said as he put his keys and opening work," you should think about ...
"Many thanks for your help," Grier said as he slid in and stopped the woman outside in the lobby.
Leaning against the wood paneling, deep breath and listened to the complaint fading in the lobby.
And then he turned around ... oh, God.
The barren room was so withered and lonely as an old man, showing that poverty, such as age, was a great equalizer, it could have been in any neighborhood drug house or building in ruins in any city in any country: the old pine floors had all the brightness and sandpaper the ceiling had water stains on the corners that were colored urine. No furniture in sight, no table, chair and TV. Only a sleeping bag, a pair of combat boots and some clothes neatly folded in piles. Isaac
Rothe The pillow was nothing more than a sweatshirt.
While standing inside the apartment, all I could think about was the last place where his brother had been. At least his client was clean and had no hypodermic needles and dirty spoons everywhere: the shortfall does not seem to be the result of the skewed priorities of an addict.
But my God, it was still a shock to remember where Daniel was over. Dirt ... cockroaches rotten food ... ...
forced to move, went to the kitchen and was not surprised to find all the cupboards, drawers and the fridge empty. The bathroom had a razor, shaving cream, toothbrush and soap.
In the bedroom, which was totally empty, went to the closet and used the flashlight on your keychain to take a look inside. The panel had described was Isaac left and managed to open it without any problem.
And yes, there was, in fact, a plastic bag of Star Market and twenty-five thousand dollars in cash hidden in the dusty space between tables in the frame. Or at least, seemed flexible collection of bills and weighed as much money ...
Crunch. Grier
froze.
listened attentively.
Looking over his shoulder, stopped breathing. But all I heard was the thunder of his heart.
When the silence persisted, pushed the stock back to where she was, put the panel and closed the closet again, then went to the front window. The glass was damn whitish dirt was not as if anyone could see from the outside, but still felt as if she was watching ...
Something flashed and leaned closer.
At the top of the window, a tiny pair of metal plates had been stuck in the cracked paint, one under the other in the structure. There was another set down and things seemed to be made of copper coated with a matte finish of some sort. If he had not come, never would have noticed. Grier
again through the living room, kitchen and bathroom, and found the same thing in each and every one of the windows. Up and down, two sets. And the doors were also equipped, all at home and abroad.
knew exactly what were the plates.
His multimillion house in Louisburg Square on Beacon Hill had them in their own frames and jambs. Security alarms were the most modern touch.
Standing in the center of the apartment, his mind went through the math: bowling empty sleeping bag forty dollars per bed, no phone ... but the place was full of cables to sound like a bank safe. Time to dig
.
Using soft cloth with cleaning out your sunglasses, reviewed his client's personal effects without leaving fingerprints behind, and found the alarm receiver in the folds of the sleeping bag. And a pair of forty caliber pistols with silencers and no serial number and a well-worn hunting knife but brutally sharp.
-Jesu ... Christ, "he whispered, putting everything back where it was found.
He rose from the "bed" and went to the kitchen. Going loop handle systematically wipe out all traces and then looked under the sink and behind the refrigerator. The next stop was the bathroom, and with shaky hands got rid of all traces that might have stopped and shined his flashlight into dark corners.
In the mist of suspicion spasmodic was well aware that he was violating the privacy of his client, but the hound she could not stop hunting frenzy was like a muscle that had not been used and needed exercise. Had done this many times with Daniel apartments and cars, and when finished checking the house of Isaac Rothe, she felt sweaty and very familiar vague nausea.
Although no drugs. Nowhere.
Returning to the room, measured the windows again. The protection would be worth twenty-five great ... but the security system had not been activated.
Which meant it was used as a warning when Isaac was asleep.
In his experience, the only kind of criminal element with access to this caliber of equipment was a drug dealer or mafia very high level. The emotional state of his client and his physical appearance did not match any of those profiles, these were typically older men, not under thirty with the physical appearance of hitman.
However, there was another possible explanation.
He took the phone and dialed a number he had used too many times in the past.
In responding to the call, took a deep breath and felt as if he were to jump off a cliff.
"Hey, Louie, how's my favorite private detective? ... oh, that's very sweet from you ... Aha ... I'm fine.
Liar, liar and liar.
While the two were playing catch up, headed back to the cache of money and wiped the doorknob of the closet with his handkerchief.
"Actually I need something. If you have time, I have someone that I would like to see for myself, please?
After Louie tell all he knew of his client, who was only a name, date of birth and the address of little importance, he hung up.
The question was, of course, now what?
had not believed when he told Isaac Rothe had cash. Then
had announced that she would bail.
was his only option: the Court was willing to leave free his client, but the sureties would not touch the case. Too much risk of flying.
It suggested that the judge had blocked the head when he made the decision.
Oh, wait ... that would have been her in this situation.
Looking around the empty apartment, he realized that his client was as substantial as a recruit. There was no way he was to stay for their audiences.
Hell, probably not going to stay here a minute when he was released. It was clear that had the resources and things were easy to carry.
looked at the door.
The good thing was that there was a risk of losing twenty-five grand. The plan had been to engage in good faith to trust her and allow her to help.
But it probably would end up being an expensive lesson of not investing in people who did not know and where you should not trust.

Burton Clash Aanbieding

GULA Chapter 6 / Chapter 7



was six o'clock in the afternoon when a guard finally brought Isaac to the cell. Despite the long time it took in and out, and he felt that staff had taken time-release process for was quite rapid now that they had decided to leave out: opening wives, their own. A signature, his. Clothes off, theirs. Clothes to wear, yours. Portfolio returned.
All I could think about was her lawyer. I could not believe he had obtained bail.
O took the money.
Man, was in her debt. Without Grier Childe would not be on the verge of a freedom that was going to keep alive.
had not seen since I came to tell who had succeeded to the judge, but it was clear that things had settled with cash or he would not be back in their own underpants.
The containment area of \u200b\u200bthe Palace of Justice was separated from the public section of a series of doors that led him across the room where he had met with her. The last group of not-even-think-on-this was in the processing center, where he was booked and photographed.
God, I could still smell her perfume.
With a clang, the steel lock guard jumped and gave him a shove rather than a "bon voyage" ...
- Need a ride?
Isaac stopped short just inside the waiting area. The Miss Childe stood on the linoleum, looking as if at a cocktail party and not the county jail: the hair was braided, but not wearing clothes. She wore some kind of black dress ... and a pair of black stockings that made him transparent with difficulty swallowing to prevent a whimper.
was a woman.
- You need it? -Caused. Feeling like a Neanderthal
to go the route dumb, shook his head.
"No, thank you, ma'am.
She walked toward the exit and opened the door, standing aside, looking like a million dollars ... and as if he had nothing better to do with their time to play goalie with him.
Isaac left the waiting room into the hall that only had a row of elevators and fire escape.
"Let me take you," she said as she pressed the down arrow. I know where you live, remember? And it will be hard to find a taxi at rush hour.
True enough. It also only had five dollars in cash. "I'll
.
"Exactly. Leaving me take you. It's cold and not even have a coat for the love of God.
Also true. T had lost in the clutter of being handcuffed. But like everything else about him, that was not her problem.
When she turned, as if the decision had been taken, he stared at the intricate swirls of hair. Could not see a pin or anything, and yet seemed covered with lacquer. Magic
thought.
Without realizing it, raised his hand stretched and broken as if to touch his neck. While stopped in time.
And it was shortly after, slipping quietly through the stairwell.
The provision which had a open square. Perfect.
made no noise as his body thrown over the railing and dropped two floors below, holding just in time and then swinging his torso on top. He landed crouched in silence and did not wait even a second before covering the last set of stairs with a jump and hit the exit. While burst Free cold April wind, was shit scared to smokers who were at the door before letting them into the dust in his wake. Looking
run, the path led through a dark maze of buildings and then in front of all the jewelry, as well as Macy's and Filene apartments. The rush hour meant that the streets were full of professionals expelled from the Financial District, filling all the metro stops or run like ants through the park. Fortunately, there was less foot traffic in Chinatown, but more cars, which improved his time.
While struggling to make a place, the effort helped by the fact that he had nothing more than a sleeveless shirt, but the cold damp air will prevent the bruises and cut on the forehead latieran too. When he reached the block where he lived, was almost disappointed to have to go slower, the exercise was good for calming your mind and expel trauma.
Approaching from behind the three-story house, weaved in the backyards of the neighbors left and stopped ten yards from the back door. The lights were on in the room of the owner and on the second floor, but everything was shut down on their level.
When he was reasonably sure he had not been followed, bent down and picked up a stone. Staying in the shadows, approached, leaned back hand launched and hit his head rocking without lamp bulb was on top of the stairs and put the outside light to sleep.
Isaac waited, crouched in tension where it was: the speed was often her friend, but this was not always the case. Sometimes going slowly was the only reason you woke up the next morning.
Downstairs, a shadow rose and went from window to window, then made a trip back to the flickering television. There was good news, but not a surprise. Ms. Mulcahy never left his room except for food, and was the kind of owner that made him uncomfortable to consider the benefits of banks park. Tonight, however, she was not the reason I moved stealthily at home: they were damn good opportunities for their name in the criminal justice system, its management had been punctured by XOps and that meant that location was not safe.
had to get in and out of there quickly.
Ten minutes later I was on the back steps. Key in the lock. Climbing the stairs like a ghost.
And on his way to the top floor, prevented the steps that creaked, which eliminated three out of four of the bastards.
his apartment door was opened without a sound because he had oiled the hinges on the night was moved, and with a quick turn bolted, locked inside. A quick listen told him that there was no more sound than the TV down, but stayed where he was for a minute and a half to be sure.
When there was nothing out of place that might arise, was launched. Lightning was
speed. The whisper quiet way.
Outside the kitchen. In the front room.
I took a look at their stuff know that Grier had stirred, the change in the pile of clothes was so subtle that only he would notice, but the folding system that had developed was designed precisely for that purpose. He put on his sweatshirt
he used as a pillow, slipped two pockets forty in the center front and put on combat boots. Ammunition, hunting knife and mobile phone went to his pants, then put the black jacket was everything I had, a successful shelter.
Back to the bedroom. In the closet. There had been
twenty-seven thousand eight hundred fifty-three U.S. dollars in its cache, so it must have some left over after the bond.
pulled the panel and reached ...
"Damn.
I had to open the bag of Star Market and counting, by the weight, I knew that Grier had not taken a single dollar of the rolls of one hundred and twenty tickets or the abandoned lot undone.
But Matthias had been here ... have taken up arms to make it less dangerous. And waited there to shoot him in the head.
Shit ... intact metal shit meant that there was a guarantor or implied ... or that she had set bail at his own expense. And when he had been indicted, there were revelations about others sending Benjamins. So he should have.
Damn.
Taking action, took the bag and replaced the section of board. Then he went through the windows and doors, pulling the receptors with a knife and putting the metal plates in his pockets. No more than three minutes later, went the way it entered: on the back and as silent as the smoke.
The five hundred dollars left on the kitchen counter would have to cover the fact that he was breaking the lease, and Ms. Mulcahy would have to figure he had left when there was no sign of it after a couple of days.
The less contact with him, the safer for it.
Same with her lawyer.
God damn it.
Down in the backyard, the senses of Isaac were very sharp as he slid off the side of the apartment house and came running. Not slowed his pace until he was a couple of miles. Crouching in an alley, made the call was answered on the second ring:
"Yes. "I'm
Rothe.
fighting promoter immediately encouraged.
-Jesus Christ, I heard you were in jail. Listen, I can not put the bond ...
"I'm out. Do we fight tonight?
- Hell, yeah! We were going to have to move to that location anyway. This is awesome. How do you do?
- What is the address and how do I get?
The address was about ten miles in a town called Malden, which made sense, the cops were Southie have obviously against fighting in your lawn. And it was a mystery how the promoter had not been arrested. Unless, of course, that it was he who had given the tip-off and escaped in time.
never knew people in that class. Isaac
After hanging, his next move was to find a bus shelter with a schedule. When the ten-wheel monolithic rolled right back up slowly, approached him and sat beside the emergency exit window.
While staring at the apartments, businesses and buildings they passed, he wanted to howl. XOps
had left because he found his conscience, and that meant he could not escape with Childe Grier Having been covered up to that point. She looked rich, but twenty-five of the major cash was much more than Bother. Damn, would not have felt comfortable even with a surety bond anonymous eating that amount. But the elegant woman who had lied? And sent a dirty word?
No. I was not going to leave in the lurch.
was not going to complicate everything.

* * Two hours after leaving the jail without his client and without any clue where he had gone, Grier was in the middle of a party full of people who could say they were from his tribe. All were old fortunes of Boston and shared common ancestors on the Mayflower.
God loved them, but some of those blue bloods were old enough to have been in that same boat.
But his mind was not in the ballroom at the Four Seasons. Or the man before he spoke to her about ... Why was this party? Does the Museum of Fine Arts or the ballet?
He glanced at the banners they had hung. Reproductions of Degas. What did not necessarily respond to that: all those tutus fuzzy could fit into any category.
While bow before her still talking, she was not in the conversation. His mind was stuck in the hallway of the courthouse ... when he had turned from the lifts and was found alone.
had not even heard Isaac move, much less leave. One moment I was behind her, the next there was nothing but air where he had been. How someone of that size could make disappear this way was amazing.
Of course, there was to be a genius to figure out which came through the hollow of the back stairs, so she burst open the fire door and walked behind him, taking off her heels and running with feet clad in tights. Down the stairs, pushed open the exit door and took a look at a guy who was lighting a cigarette. When you asked if he had seen a man come out great, he just shrugged, blew a milky white cloud into the air and walked away.
After putting on stilettos, had gone to the underground parking, entered his car and taken to the apartment of his client again. There were no lights on upstairs, but not expected either. The last place someone would run was to the address he had given to police.
had known it was a client at risk of absconding. With what I had not told was to be like the smoker's breath in the breeze, going as fast as it had appeared.
Returning to the present, put Grier Chardonnay warm in the tray of a passing waiter, just as his phone began to vibrate against the hip.
Excusing himself, slipped into the hall.
- Hello?
"Hello, zeƱorita Childe. How are you?
"Waiting breathlessly for your call, Louie, so I am.
"Oh, now that's sweet. You're a good woman. -Louie dropped his routine and was friendly to the point. Not going to like what I have to tell you.
Why I'm not surprised? thought.
"Let this, then.
"It's a ghost.
No disagreement there. Still, considering that last talk with his dead brother, the ghosts could be real. He seemed quite corporeal
when I was sitting across the table with him.
"Well, the Isaac Rothe died I could find about five years ago. Mississippi below. He was found dead in a ditch on a cattle farm, and was nineteen at the time. The newspaper articles I read said it was so battered it was impossible to admit it, but the picture of him while he was alive I got from the note matches the photo to the chips made at the police station last night. It's the same guy.
-Jesus ...
"Not for nothing, but the work was expensive disappear and powerful. I mean, why he has lasted so long concealed? Sure, you can do, this is a great country and all that, but you have to be careful because there are many central databases. It has not been using their own social security number, which is different from that of the name originally, so it could be part of what has remained outside the system. But my feeling is that he knows what he is doing. And it has some serious backing.
- What kind of support would be?
"I'll give two initials: U, S.
- Surname "government"?
"I was with Uncle Sam, but yeah, that fits.
"But do not get it. If I wanted to stay lost, why kept his own name? Buying a new identity, which usually comes with a different beginning and end, right?
"You should ask him why. But the first thing that comes to mind is that I never expected to be found. And I say this ... be careful with him. That body of the ditch in Mississippi did not get there by chance. Bet my advance to the fact that someone killed a white boy who looked like him enough to put him in a closed coffin and guess what your customer is still breathing. So the HDP may be a murderer. Grier closed
eyes. Great. This was only getting better, not only bailed him a flight risk type that had been running, but perhaps a man who had killed someone and faked his own death.
polite and friendly, my ass, she thought, wondering how the hell someone like her, who had spent nineteen graduating summa cum laude, he had managed to be so stupid.
At that point, the crowd parted to reveal a tuxedo Daniel lounging around one of those Degas. As provided her with a glass flute of champagne, her pretty face was plastered with a you-what-I.
The son of a bitch was dead reason. Although two years had passed, she was still doing some kind of CPR on him, desperate to restore life, was trapped in the dramas of others, that urge to step in and help was sometimes the only thing that made her go.
- Are you okay, girl? He grabbed the phone
stronger and wondered what he would say if he knew the private investigator was looking into the eyes full of knowledge to his late brother.
"Not much, Louie.
- He has camelid you? "I've camelid
myself.
"Well, I have another piece of information for you, but I'm not sure want to give it. Sounds like you're too involved now. Preparing
, murmured: "Tell me
. I can also know everything.