“I’d like to do the real Broadway Market again some day,” said Tomo, as she pointed to the green sign in front of the building.
“Last time I tried to go there,” said Charlie, “the merc-cops swarmed me like flies on a turd three minutes in.”
“Bet you didn’t try and look like someone who belongs there, right?” Dutch asked. “You dressed like you always do, like someone without a regular job, right?”
“If I was forty years older, I could get away with it.”
“You get forty years older, you can’t get away with much.”
“Wave goodbye while we pass it,” said Jenny, driving the car east down Broadway. “Speaking of saying goodbye, that place we parked the truck and boat’s still good, ain’t it?”
“That house and garage are still owned by my Uncle Carmine, as far as the security system people care,” said Tomo, “and they haven’t checked for fake records to purge for a few days.”
“And you’re out on the water as a pirate instead of hacking for a living, why again?” asked Charlie.
“What, and give up all of this?”
“And if they find out about your ‘Uncle Carmine’ and come around and find the boat,” said Jenny, “you have something to fall back on.”
“I’d try and set you all up if they did.”
“Real nice of you.”
“Speaking of old folks at Broadway Market,” asked Dutch, “how’s your Nana, Jenny?”
“Going to see her later. I’ll tell her you asked about her… And it looks like Butch is at the door.”
She rolled the car across Broadway to the other Broadway Market, an abandoned-looking ex-factory with a guard shack at the gate of the chain link fence surrounding the building. A burly broad-shouldered man in merc-cop blues sauntered out of the shack as Jenny rolled down the window.
“Hey Butch,” she said to the guard. “You doing OK?”
Butch looked into the car, giving every face a hard look before his facial muscles softened slightly.
“Well, well,” said Butch, “if it ain’t the West Seneca Crew. You kids know the rules still, right?”
“Yeah, no packing in the Market; you start something, you get asked to leave; and if you have to be asked again, you have the right to shoot me. How’s it in there this week, anyway?”
“Looks like a big turnout. You got in nice and early, before a lot of other folks looking to unload today.”
“Any idea if they’re buying much today?”
“Honey,” said Butch, “if I could game the Market, I wouldn’t be out here. Go round to the left, you know where the out of sight parking is.”
Jenny drove the car around and parked it, then made sure the crew’s guns were stowed under a blanket in the trunk before she unloaded all the booty on a close-by hand truck.
“Let’s hope the fish are biting today,” said Dutch.
All content Copyright © 2011 James Ryan