'What the hell does that mean?'
'There's this thing called a dictionary, kid. Find out about it.'
'There's a time and place for fucking around,' Frank said, staring at him decidedly. 'This isn't one of them.'
Charlie scratched the back of his head. 'We all knew it was only a matter of time before this happened. I trust you guys to handle it in a way that's in our best interest.'
Thunder rolled, and Frank's eyes shifted to Vincent. 'Vin?'
'If nobody else thinks – '
'I'm only concerned with what you think at the moment.'
Vincent loosened his tie. 'We should probably move on him,' he said in an uncharacteristically soft voice. 'Otherwise we not only run the risk of looking weak, but we might make Turano feel more confident about coming after us later. Either way, things could and probably will get real ugly. Going this route will change everything for a long time.'
'I say we hit back,' Frank told the others. 'Hard.'
Charlie headed for the door. 'This is where I step out.'
'Maybe you should stay,' Vincent suggested.
'I don't want nothing to do with the muscle end of things,' he said firmly. 'I made that clear from the beginning. I'm with you guys a hundred percent in whatever you decide only I don't want a hand in it. The less I know the better.'
'How can you expect to be safe if you're ignorant of what's happening?' Vincent pressed.
'Tell me only what I need to know,' Charlie said, then he looked at Frank for his approval. 'Okay, chief?'
The rain seemed to increase in intensity, and in that split-second power shifted even further in Frank's favor. 'Head on over to the venue. We'll meet you there in a while.'
Charlie left without hesitation.
Gus moved to the window and watched him cross the parking lot in an awkward, almost comical sprint, his feet splashing puddles as he went. 'What a pussy.'
Probably smarter than the rest of us, Frank thought.
Vincent sighed. 'Let's get to it.'
'Close the blinds,' Frank told him.
The things they were about to discuss were better suited to the dark.
The foul weather only helped to bring more people to the event. The auditorium was packed to the rafters, and Benny Dunn's security crew was on their toes from the opening bell. The show itself was one of the best Frank had ever seen the boys do. Of course, the bouts were identical to those staged throughout the course of the tour, but there was an additional element of excitement on this particular afternoon – generated mostly by an aggressive, boisterous crowd that seemed to inspire the wrestlers to bring the level of their performance up a notch.
Luther defended his world title successfully, coming back from the brink of defeat at the hands of The Lariat at least half a dozen times. With the flair of a seasoned professional, the Dark Train would stare into the crowd with pleading eyes; hands reaching out as if to touch the fans while his opponent increased the pressure on a submission hold that appeared to drive him to the very edge of consciousness. And the crowd responded, chanting Luther's name again and again, each chorus louder and more desperate until their hero struggled to his feet, absorbing the power of his fans' support and transforming it into a tangible energy capable of allowing him to finally turn the tables. After pinning The Lariat in dramatic fashion, Luther staggered from the ring, his championship belt held high above his head as he embraced the crowd at ringside, making sure to stop for a quick photograph with a local retarded youth who was to receive a percentage of the profits generated by the fund-raiser. Sensing the power of the moment, Luther slung his arm around the boy and encouraged him to wear the belt. Again, the crowd began to chant Luther's name.
Benny Dunn moved up the main aisle to ringside and lifted the boy over the metal barricade that separated the front row from the ring area and stood him next to the champion. The young man, star-struck and unable to believe that one of his idols had actually involved him in the show, looked up at Luther in awe. With the fans cheering him on, Luther secured the strap around the boy's waist and began parading him through the crowd.
'The official time!' Charlie's voice boomed over Luther's exit music as he watched from the center of the ring. 'Twenty minutes, fourteen seconds. The winner by pin-fall and still ECPWL Heavyweight Champion of the World… Luther Dark Train Jefferson!'
Luther and the boy were still at ringside exchanging high-fives and dancing to the music as the frenzied crowd cheered uproariously.
'And let's hear it for the real champ!' Charlie said. 'Corey Walters, folks! Let's hear it for Corey!'
The crowd now began to chant Corey's name, and the boy started to laugh, finally grabbing Luther around the waist with a hug that looked as if it might never end.
Frank, Vincent, and Gus watched from the rear of the auditorium. As the music continued to blare and Luther did his best to prolong his time in the spotlight, a woman moved through the crowd and approached them. She was attractive, dressed in plain, inexpensive clothes, and her hair was pulled back and fastened with an elastic. Her eyes were moist and she dabbed at them with a tattered tissue.
'I'm Jean Walters,' she said, offering a shaking hand. 'Corey's mother. I can't thank you gentlemen enough for this.'
Frank took her hand and smiled warmly. 'It's our pleasure. Corey's a great kid, ma'am, and we're happy to help.'
'He's done nothing but talk about this show for weeks,' she told them, still teary-eyed. 'Now, after all this, it should just about make his year. Please thank Mr. Jefferson for me.'
'I'll do that,' Frank said. 'We've also got a package for Corey in the locker room. Some autographed pictures and things we thought he might like.'
Without hesitation, she leaned over and hugged all three men in turn. 'Thanks again.'
'Take care,' Vincent said, watching her return to her seat.
'I guess every once and a while even we do something good,' Frank grinned, elbowing Vincent. 'Even you, Satan.'
'Speak for yourself.'
Gus shook his head. 'Don't you have any feelings at all?'
'Sure,' Vincent yawned. 'I've got deep feelings for that blonde over there. Mostly in my nuts.'
Benny emerged from the crowd and joined them at the rear of the room. 'Can I talk to you guys for a second?'
'Shoot,' Vincent told him.
He glanced over his shoulder at Elliot's concession table. 'I had one of my guys watch him like you told me, Vin. He's been pocketing the cash on every third sale. Fucking guy's good, though. Magician's hands.'
Vincent turned to Frank. 'What'd I tell you?'
'Thanks, Ben,' Frank said. 'Make sure your guy gets a few extra bucks in his envelope. Tell Charlie I said it was all right.'
With a quick nod, Benny returned to his duties at ringside.
Gus made a fist and shook it in the air. 'That sonofabitch. We should kick his ass.'
'Go ahead,' Vincent said.
Gus cleared his throat and immediately assumed a less threatening posture. 'Well, I would but… with my training I have to be careful.'
'Yeah,' Vincent cracked, rolling his eyes, 'you might annoy him to death.'
'Hey, I don't need the cops down on my head, man.' Gus hoisted his pants up high on his hips. 'You guys probably weren't aware of this but my hands are registered as deadly weapons with quite a few police departments.'
'Oh, Jesus H. Christ.' Vincent moaned and headed for the locker room. 'Not the registered hands
