Pool_2

and issues. "What do I say? What can I prove? Who do these bastards have in their pocket? Who can I trust? How do I explain three missing men? Shit, they can just shoot me. Bang. That bypasses everything. Bang. Who will prove it was them? They win, no matter what. No. I've either got to fold, no guarantee they'll quit with me, or - or - or find a bigger devil." Doctor Farr had creeped into his conversation. They walked the perimeter of the barn in silence. "Frank, I gotta go. These bastards are smart, but speed counts more than intelligence." He was unearthing old axioms moored in a foggy past. "Take me home... to my car.." The where you going question only drew an introspective face. On the ride back, Frank was groping for sense and stability. "Don't crumble under pressure! We've got people to protect!" "No. I'm OK. I just need more information. Angels aren't going to help us. We need a bigger devil. Warn Shannon. She's at work. And John and, oh shit, Mina. Here, call this number and ask for Shondra Woodrow. Use my name. Talk to her. Tell her what's happening. - everything. Everything! Trust her. Don't use your name. Don't use any phones that could identify us. Tell her ev-re-thing." They were back to the Macaluso house quickly. "Mac, you have one of those rubber bath spray hoses? The kind you press over the faucet and hold in your hand?" "In the bathroom closet. Why?" "I'll clean up. Make your trip. I don't plan on hanging here more than I have to." "Frank, you don't need to be in this. Just leave now." "How long have you known me, Mac?" "Many years." "Do you honestly think I am physically capable of just walking out?"