User Guide

cades could be horrendous, progress
sometimes limited to one mile per hour. I
wanted to be sure to arrive on time. I was
tired of this project, and anxious not to
miss any opportunity to bring about its
successful conclusion.
Eight o’clock found me outside the
Pera Palas, an elegant, six-story hotel
near the British Consulate. I lingered on
the street, reading a newspaper, soliciting
the street vendors, generally assuming
the role of a street skag with nowhere to
go. No one noticed me.
I waited, watching the traffic pass.
At ten o’clock precisely, I saw
McDonald’s limo pull up to the front of
the hotel.
I gripped the Skorpion, and crossed
the street.
McDonald got out, turned and saw me.
He watched as I pulled the Skorpion from
my pocket.
That’s when I felt the machine gun
barrel thrust into my back.
“Easy,” an unseen voice whispered in
my ear.
I surrendered the Skorpion to whom-
ever was behind me. McDonald smiled at
me, and gestured for me to follow him. I
looked over my shoulder. Six armed men
stood at my back.
“Move,” one of them whispered. I
complied.
All of us, McDonald and his seven
goons, crowded into the lift. McDonald
pressed 6. Stephanie’s floor. The doors
shut. He turned to me.
“So, you’re the little skag who’s going
to skin me alive. Is that right? Eh, you
fug?”
He backhanded me. I tasted blood.
“You stupid fug. You think I wouldn’t
detect a line splicer on my extension? You
think I don’t know my business?”
McDonald laughed. “I can afford to hire
the best. Isn’t that right, gentlemen?”
The apes behind me chortled their
assent.
McDonald leaned close to me, his face
contorted and savage. “Damn, but I’m
going to make you pay.”
The bell rang. Sixth floor. We stepped
out.
Stephanie’s apartment was tasteful in
the same way that a whore in dim light
can be attractive. If you didn’t look too
closely, it was pretty nice.
The decor, superficially elegant,
was actually quite gaudy, lots of knick-
knacks and baubles scattered around
without any underlying aesthetic or
logic save expense. Stephanie herself
seemed like a nice enough kid, beautiful
and remarkably innocent considering her
circumstances, early twenties if even that.
She seemed a little bewildered by this
previously unsuspected side of her
benefactor. She gaped, casting worried
glances at McDonald, as I was ushered
into the back room.
“Just stay out of this, sweetheart,” I
heard him saying. “I’ll only be a minute.”
Two goons held me by my arms, the
rest covering me with pistols, as
McDonald stepped into the room. He
looked me over, up and down, as he
might a particularly loathsome insect
under glass, one whose sting could kill if
encountered in the wild. He shook his
head in wonder.
“I knew the Claws were losers, but to
hire someone like you.” He looked almost
sad, then he shrugged. “Ah, well.” He
slapped my cheeks paternally. “Gule,
gule, my friend.”
SUDDEN DEATH •
July 2011
31
“I knew the Claws were losers,
but to hire someone like you.”
He looked almost sad, then he
shrugged. “Ah, well.” He slapped
my cheeks paternally. “Gule,
gule, my friend.”
“Where are you taking me?”
McDonald asked.
“To the office. You mentioned
a late meeting, remember?”
As the limo pulled away, I
hoped that his wife had indeed
kissed the children for him.