Marcus

Marcus pulled up to a hole-in-the-wall bar, went inside, and took a seat.

Not long after, a man missing his right arm slid into the stool beside him. He didn’t say a word. He just slid over a blank piece of notebook paper.

“Write down what you need,” the man said. “I’m getting old.”

Marcus glanced over and smirked. “Shit, at this point I gotta start looking at retirement homes for your ass, Lew.”

“If I was in a retirement home, I wouldn’t have to look at your grown ass,” Lew muttered. “And judging by how you look right now, you’re the one who needs taking care. Something happen?”

Marcus hesitated, then took a breath.

“They killed Rebecca.”

Lew was quiet for a moment. “I’m guessing you’re not gonna go quietly.”

“It’s too late for that.”

Lew nodded once. “What do you need?”

Marcus looked both ways, then leaned in close. “I need the Fourth of July special.

Lew shook his head. “Boom or hot?”

“Hot.”

“Classy or outdoors?”

“Classy.”

“Protection, I’m guessing?

“I’m crazy,” Marcus said. “Not stupid.”

Lew exhaled. “I can get it. When do you need it?”

“Tonight. Preferably 10:30.” Marcus paused. “That’s when I’m celebrating.”

“You know that’s gonna cost extra.”

“Yeah. I know.”

Lew studied him. “Anything else?”

“Yeah. I need my Civic moved. New Jersey. Elizabeth.”

Lew sighed. “So you’re leaving me here alone?”

“Just for a bit. I need to expand my horizons.”

Lew signaled the bartender for two beers. “If you don’t die tonight, you’re definitely gonna die expanding your horizons.”

“You know better than staying in one spot,” Marcus said. “That’s how you get killed.”

Lew snorted. “Nah. Makes you lose pieces of yourself. Literally.” He lifted his remaining arm slightly.

“I need both arms for what I’m about to do.”

Lew glanced at him. “You know whatever you’re about to do is gonna do damage, right?”

“Shut up, Holiday.”

“Take that back before it turns into ‘crazy and stupid.’”

The bartender set the beers down and walked away.

Lew took a sip. “New York is one of the main entries of the American Silk Road. Whatever you’re planning—it’s gonna disrupt that. Think of it like clogging a water filter.”

“That’s the least of my problems,” Marcus said. “Besides, it’s time to give the Bronx a chance. I don’t remember the last time I walked through there without seeing a kindergartner holding his first piece.”

“You know who runs the Silk Road?”

Marcus took a drink. “Terrorists. Cartels. Mafia.”

Lew shook his head. “I haven’t taught you a damn thing. The Feds. The people we’re supposed to pay taxes to. The minute they see a real disruption, they’re coming.”

“Aren’t there other people moving weapons in New York?”

“Holiday,” Lew said. “And whether you like it or not, he did the heavy lifting after Manhattan went down. He used that opening. When you take down Holiday, you’re cutting two major trading hubs.”

“He needs to go,” Marcus said. “He’s not the Holiday I remember.”

“And you’re not the Marcus I remember either,” Lew replied. “I still remember when you used to shit yourself holding a gun.”

“So you’re siding with him?”

“That’s not what I said—and you fucking know it.” Lew leaned back. “All I’m saying is this business changes you. The same way you walk in isn’t the way you walk out.” A pause. “That’s if you walk out at all.”

Marcus took another sip. “You still gonna get me what I need?”

Lew nodded. “As long as you know what you’re starting.” He raised his beer. “Let me finish this and I’ll start making calls. And write it down—I’m probably gonna forget.”

Marcus sighed. “You’re fucking old.”