Jay made a mental note of the sound. He could use it in a scenario.
This whole place was great research; he could get all kinds of material
from it.
Patch picked the bayonet up. It was rusty, the wood handle cracked and
worn.
'Don't see a lot of these around much anymore.'
'I know what it is, sonny. I just need to know how much it costs.'
'I could let it go for ... eighteen.'
'What, cents?'
'Dollars.'
'Sheeit, sonny, you cain't get ten for it. Look at it. It'll take me
a week to scrape the rust of fen it. And loo kit the handle.'
'I can sell you some naval jelly that'll eat the rust right off. I
might take fifteen.'
'Eleven.'
'Twelve.'
'Now you're talking.'
The old man pulled a clump of greasy-looking bills from his voluminous
pants and peeled a dozen ones off a wad that would choke a rhino.
Patch rang the sale up.
'You want a bag for it?'
'No, I'm gonna walk down the streets of D.C. carrying it where the cops
kin see me and shoot me fulla holes.
Yes, I want a bag for it. I'm gonna track me down a couple of cats
been diggin' in my garbage and give um a new haircut.'
Patch pulled a purple plastic bag from under the counter, with the
store's logo printed on the side: 'Fiscus Military Supply,' it said
under a pair of crossed rifles and stylized lighting bolts.
When the customer shuffled out. Jay watched to see if he was going to
trip on the untied bootlaces and break his neck, but the old man
achieved the door without incident.
'Old fart couldn't track an elephant herd across a football field
covered with fresh snow. What can I do for you?' Patch said.
'You Vince Fiscus?'
'That would be me, yeah. And who wants to know?'
'I'm Jay Gridley. I called earlier.' Jay pulled out his Net Force ID
card.
Fiscus took the card and looked at it carefully, turned it over and
examined the back. The hologram flashed a rainbow reflection under the
overhead lights.
'You want to sell this? Tell 'em you lost it, they'll give you
another, but I don't have any Net Force ID.' He waved one flaccid arm
to take in the store.
'I don't think so.' He took his ID back. He wanted to wipe it off,
but thought that might not look too good.
'All right. What it's about, Mr. Net Force Agent?'
Jay kind of liked the sound of that. He tendered the picture of the
mystery man. He said, 'You know this guy?'
Fiscus looked at the picture. He grinned, showing a gap where a front
eyetooth had once been.
