Jack gave Annabelle a look. She used her deft touch and less than five minutes later the revelers had been poured out and the door locked behind them. Then they stood, Cat and Carl, Annabelle and Davette, Adam and Kirk, and Jack Crow, and watched. It was eerie. The music still played softly. The cheap overhead lights of the motel room reached Felix’s corner only in shadows that played oddly on his working silent face.

Annabelle stood next to Jack. She sounded more concerned than frightened. “Oh, Jack! How much has he had to drink?”

Jack smiled softly down at her. “He’s not drunk.”

“Not drunk? I find that hard to believe.”

Jack shrugged. “Oh, he is drunk. But not drunk drunk. This isn’t booze.”

“What is it?”

Jack paused a moment, thinking.

He seems so confident, Annabelle thought, looking up at him.

“What is it?” she repeated.

“Claustrophobia.”

“What?” Cat whispered suspiciously.

Jack laughed quietly, looked at them all. “C’mon, people. Let’s all have a seat.”

And except for Davette, they did. She stayed fussing idly in the kitchen while the rest of them found a seat on the floor or sprawled on the couches. Jack took the only other easy chair and drew it up to face Felix’s, about six feet directly in front of him.

Felix saw him, knew he was there. His lips went still. But he didn’t look directly at him or anyone else.

“Davette,” Jack called out softly, “turn that off.”

She eyed him nervously, then smiled and stepped over and turned off the music. Very quiet, all of a sudden.

Then Jack leaned forward in his chair, propping his elbows on his knees and smiling pleasantly into his drink.

“Okay…” he said.

It took a couple of beats. Then the gunman’s eyes riveted onto Jack’s. Still staring, Felix took a sip from his bottle, lit a cigarette, leaned back in his chair, and spoke. Drunk as he was, his words were clear. Very cold, like very sharp ice.

But clear.

“You’re out of this, Crow. It’s blown. They know who you are. They know what you do. They know your name.”

“So?”

“So. Change your name, change what you do. Quit. Or every job from now on will be another trap.”

“What about the Team?”

“Same as before. But as the hunters again. Not the hunted.”

Jack grinned and leaned back in his chair. “You think I can do that now?”

Felix’s smile was scary. “One of us can. Now.”

“So that’s it. One of us.”

“That’s it.”

Jack glanced at the others. “If they don’t follow you… Form your own Team?”

Felix looked surprised. He frowned. “I hadn’t thought about that.”

Jack’s voice was hard. “I didn’t think you had.”

“What the hell is…” began Carl angrily.

“Quiet!” snapped Crow without looking at him. Then he relaxed, eyed Felix for a moment.

“Did it ever occur to you that we’ve finally got them on the run?”

Felix sneered. “Ever occur to you that you’re not cutting it anymore?”

Jack held up a hand before any of the others could protest. He lit a cigarette, leaned forward in his chair once more.

“Yes,” he said simply. “Yes it has. I can admit that. Can you admit running out on the job you were born to do?”

“I’m not running out on…”

“Like hell you aren’t!” snapped Jack. He stood up angrily, began to pace back and forth in front of Felix’s chair.

“This is the game, Felix. This is it. I can’t quit because I’m the symbol. They know my name. You can’t because you’re the best there is and that’s the part you don’t like!”

“Bullshit, Crow!”

“Is it? Is it? Hadn’t thought about your own team, had you? Hell, no. If you had thought, which you by God didn’t want to do, you’d have realized they wouldn’t leave me and you would have to do it on your own. But you don’t want to do that. You don’t want to do it at all!”

Felix was out of his chair in a flash.

“You calling me a coward?”

And Davette couldn’t take it anymore. Suddenly she was there, standing beside the two heaving chests, her voice that of a small child, a small doll.

“Don’t…” she whispered, the tears already starting to pour, “… don’t… please, don’t.”

“I don’t know what I’m calling you, Felix!” yelled Crow. “Because I don’t know what the fuck you are!”

Felix’s voice was stone. “Then try something.”

And they all thought the fight would start then and it should have, really. But a piece of Jack was also shouting at him. Leadership, goddammit!

And so he took a breath and backed off a bit and tried again.

“Felix, I can’t quit just because they know my name. Is the next guy gonna do the same? That’s all it takes. They know if they can find out who we are they can run us off? We can’t. We’re it. This is the game!

“Look. I’m sorry if this comes at a bad time in your life, Felix. But it always does, dammit!” And then Crow felt the anger spurt out and he lost it again.

“You’re just gonna have to see if you’re man enough to face it!”

And Felix barked, “Fuck off!” He turned to the others. “Fuck you all…”

And Davette’s baby voice sighed, “No… no no…

And for a second they stopped and looked at her. But then Felix shook it off. He reached down and picked up his cigarettes and stuffed them in his pocket and stalked toward the door.

“Die, then!” he shouted at the room. “Die if you want to! Die for his ego or senility or whatever…”

Davette was chasing him, her arms held out. “Please please…”

“Forget it!” he stormed at her. “All of you, forget it!”

“You can’t…” she pleaded and the sobs shook her tiny form.

But he could. He could do what everyone had known for hours he was going to do.

“I quit,” said Felix.

And Davette’s voice came out strong and full and she cried out, “You can’t! You don’t know what they can do to people! You don’t know what it’s like… You…”

And Felix and Jack Crow looked at her together and together they said: “Whaat…”

Davette looked at the two of them, back and forth quickly. She hung her head. Then she reached down to the hem of her khaki skirt and took it in her fist and raised it up, exposing the perfect silken lines of her golden legs and the sharp heartache contrast of yellow panties… and there, there high on her left inner thigh… Like the bite of a monstrous spider.

It could be no other kind of wound.

“Help me,” she whispered.

“Help me…”

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