Earl waved a hand at Nate. Unger said nothing about you reporting in today. So it ain't gonna happen. Ride your bike home, Nate. If we want ya, we'll call.

Wilson burst into laughter. Call! Ha! That's rich! No phones, Earl!

Earl rolled his eyes. Yeah, I know that, ya idiot.

Wilson chuckled and shook his head. Call! Heheh.

Nate had had enough of this little show. He may need muscle in the future, but it didn't have to be these two assholes. He tensed up.

Davenport! Get your ass in here! came a booming shout from the dark bowels of the bar.

Wilson and Earl sat straighter on their stools.

Earl nodded toward the door. Boss wants ya, he said, serious. His eyes gave Nate's long coat a once over.

Nate entered the bar which was nearly pitch black. A column of fading sun from the doorway created a corridor of light which sliced across the huge room, revealing tables and chairs, all empty. At the other end, the door to Unger's office could be seen with more light spilling into it from another source.

He crossed the bar, mindful of Earl's gaze on his back.

At the office door, he paused. The small room was dominated by a huge oak desk with a high-back leather chair. The walls were covered in old photos of Unger posing with strippers and political figures which Nate found amusing. They both danced for money, but in different ways.

Boxing trophies crowded for space atop a filing cabinet. Unger had been a golden-gloves or something like it back in his younger days.

An ashtray on the desk caught Nate's attention. Ash and cigar stubs formed a small mountain range on it. It was shaped like a seashell just like the one Granger had.

Guess idiots do all shop at the same stores, he thought with a wry grin.

Where was Unger?

A prickling against his neck made him turn in alarm.

Earl stood there, watching him with a crooked smile.

Panic rose in Nate's chest and he was about to reach into his jacket when the other man pointed a finger.

He's out back, Earl said, indicating a short hallway that led outside. The back door was open, revealing a lot. Nate could see someone's legs sitting on a chair outside.

Nate nodded at Earl and headed to the back door, mindful of the other man following.

Outside Nate found Unger sitting in a plush chair dragged out from his office.

If there was one way to best describe Unger's appearance, it would be to take a grizzly bear and shave off all its fur. Kick it in the balls, to give it a perpetual expression of anger, then stick a cigar in its mouth.

The furless grizzly looked up at Nate and talked around his cigar. Davenport. The fuck? Sit down, Unger said, pointing at another chair which held the door open.

Nate did as he was told. Earl took up a position in the doorway and leaned against the frame.

Getting some fresh air, boss? Nate asked. He didn't like how his jacket moved as he sat down, but it was long enough to still cover him almost to his knees.

Unger peered around the back parking lot. There was nothing here but bare concrete and a high fence. A column of black smoke rose up in the distance. Another fire.

Yeah, well, there's no God-damned electricity, Unger said Hasn't been all day. Can't see shit. Here, look at this. On the ground beside him were a half dozen flashlights. He scooped one up with a large knuckled hand and flicked its switch. Nothing happened. They're all like that. He tossed the flashlight to the ground where it clattered across the concrete.

Phones are dead, too, Nate said.

Unger nodded, a rare gesture from him considering he never agreed with anyone on anything. All the damn phones are dead. All the cells, even the God-damned landline at the front.

Nate glanced between Earl and Unger. So you haven't got word? He let the question hang there like the smoke which curled from Unger's cigar.

The boss raised an eyebrow. Word about what?

Nate gave it a second. The man didn't take the bait. That this thing is city wide. The whole place.

Figured as much, Unger said. He looked to Earl. Didn't I say that before?

Earl grunted in agreement.

Unger's gaze fixed on Nate for several long moments, then said. So, that thing.

That thing is in the bag, Nate said.

Done, eh?

Done and over.

No problems?

This last question almost tripped Nate up. No problems other than I had to shoot a cop who's a known enemy of your crew. Other than that, no problems.

Nate shook his head. None at all.

Unger listened with interest. He took a long drag from his cigar then exhaled it toward Nate.

Earl shifted, and no longer leaned against the door frame. At Nate's glance he looked bored.

Is that so? Unger asked. No problems, eh?

Nate blinked. What was this? He's giving me the third degree. Does he know about the path of carnage Nate had been reaping across the city? How?

Yeah, Nate said. He sat up a little, making it look like he was getting comfortable.

Unger stared at him through a veil of smoke. Then why are you here, Nate?

Alarm bells went off in Nate's head. What the hell? He found himself tensing, but made an effort not to show it. I couldn't call it in like usual, Nate offered. Figured I'd let you know face-to-face before I took my out. That sounded plausible enough.

Unger's gaze didn't flinch from Nate's. Bit of a risk coming here, now, ain't it?

The alarm bells had become a three alarm fire in Nate's head. He said, Not really. Cops are busy right now. Can't even drive so I figured a visit was safe. His hands started to sweat.

A sudden loud noise made Nate blink away from Unger in confusion. Like metal being dragged across the concrete.

Unger frowned and turned to look behind him.

From the growing gloom a man emerged dragging a large metal barrel. He stopped in front of Unger and Nate and stood the barrel up between them.

Nate's apprehension vanished. Replaced by white hot anger.

It was Morse.

Finally got it here, Morse said to Unger, panting heavily. Had to drag it two blocks.

No one gives a shit, Unger said. The big man hoisted himself up out of the chair and stood over the barrel, peering inside.

Nate took the opportunity to stand, too, giving him more freedom.

Unger spat thickly into the empty barrel. Well, fill it full of shit. It's gonna get dark in a minute.

Morse nodded and gave Nate a hateful glance, then went inside.

Nat stood next to the barrel, positioning it so it was between him and the other men. What's this for? Bonfire?

Kinda, Unger said. His demeanor was hard to read. Was he hostile or had Nate misread their conversation? Gonna have a barbecue. Cook up some of the steaks in the freezer before they go bad. He kicked at the barrel. Do it cave man style, over a real fire.

Morse reappeared with a stack of newspapers under one arm and pieces of an old wooden chair under the other. He dropped them into the barrel and took the lighter from Earl.

Unger stared at Nate while Morse worked. Was there something more you wanted to tell me, Nate?

Morse lit the newspapers, and the fire sputtered to life. He looked from Unger to Nate with growing apprehension.

Might as well pull this band-aid off myself, Nate thought.

I killed a cop today, Nate said with a smile.

Unger did a double take. What?

Yup, Nate said. You know her, too. Victoria Lang. Or maybe that's knew her, past tense.

The furless grizzly glared at him over the crackling fire. You're shitting me.

Nope. I don't shit. Not about killing cops.

Morse stared at Nate in amazement and stepped back from the barrel. Behind him, Earl no longer looked bored, eyes fixed on Nate.

Nate continued into the silence. Then I killed Jonas Anderson. Tossed him through a window.

Unger's cigar threatened to drop from his open mouth, stunned.

After that, I paid a visit to a special friend of yours. Granger. He glared at his boss. Figured it was the least I could do.

You fuck, Unger said, recovering from these revelations. You fucking fuck!

Aren't you gonna ask why? Nate said.

Earl went for his shoulder pistol, but Nate was quicker. From beneath his long jacket he unslung a sawed-off shotgun from under his arm. The chamber was already loaded.

The blast sent Earl flying back through the open door and sprawling onto the floor.

The cigar dropped from Unger's mouth as he looked at his dead henchman.

Nate racked another round into the sawed-off's chamber and leveled it at Unger. Go on, ask me why.

Unger glared at Nate with rage, but refused to do what he was told. No one told him what to do.

Why? asked Morse with a meek voice.

Cause you had Chris killed. Raped and killed. Didn't you? Nate asked.

Unger clenched his fists at his sides, wanting to get close to Nate. Become that boxer of old, again.

Since he didn't answer, Nate said, I'll tell you why. Because-.

Wilson flew through the back door pistol firing.

Nate felt a bullet hit him in the chest on his left pectoral. It was like getting kicked by a mule. But he stood firm and shot at Wilson who was firing as quick as he could pull the trigger.

Nate's shot hit the henchman right in the face spraying blood and brains everywhere. Wilson flopped to the ground.

Unger made a move toward Nate, but Nate pointed the sawed-off at him as he racked a new round stopping the big man in his tracks.

You gonna answer me? Nate said, gasping for breath. His chest blossomed with incredible pain. Part of his left arm had gone completely numb, but he still had a firm grip on his weapon.

Morse had stood rooted to the spot during the entire exchange, hands in the air, terrified. When Unger refused to speak, he said, He was gonna talk.

Bullshit! Nate said. He would never have talked. The thought of Chris, his old friend, as a rat was too impossible to consider.

Maybe, Unger finally said. Maybe not. He was in for murder. Twenty years. Who knows what he would have said to get that reduced. He knew a lot of shit.

Nate could barely contain his rage. So you had him killed. Didn't you? On the chance a loyal soldier might squeal?

Unger shrugged. It's how it's done. Couldn't take the risk. He said this in a matter-of-fact way, like he was describing how to properly smoke a cigar.

Why Caleb? He wasn't a threat to you.

Unger's eyes flashed with anger. Oh, no? Brother of the guy I had offed? It was only a matter of time before he figured it out or someone told him. Had to be done.

Had to be done, huh? Nate said and shot Unger in the knee.

The big man collapsed to the pavement shrieking in pain.