Day 4 - The South Street Businessman's Club

Titan's driver slowed and turned into a narrow street fronted by the tall cinderblock walls of warehouses. "Charlie will stay with the car," Titan explained. "While we pay a visit to the South Street Businessmen. Their 'office' is a bar two blocks further down. Collections should be done for the day and they'll be in the back room, countin' it. We'll go in the back door and file an insurance claim for cash for the shopkeeper's medical bills. I assume they may need to be 'persuaded' to share this stuff with us. You gotta problem with that, boy scout?"

As Titan had been spinning the tale, Mark had already figured out where he was going with it and, to his surprise, had decided he wanted in on the action.

"I don't suppose you got any other back-up on the way so I guess you're going to need a hand," Mark replied

They worked their way through the neighborhood to the back of the bar. Johnny noted the 'Gentlemen' were so cocksure of their power in the neighborhood, they hadn't even posted a sentry. The back door opened out into the alley. Mark felt a little naked without a weapon. He looked around and grabbed the top from a trash can, then took his place beside the door. At a nod from Titan, Mark yanked it open and the two bigger men pushed in.

The door led into a central hallway with two doors on the left, labeled "setters" and "pointers". A wooden door on the right bore no sign. A man leaned against the wall with his arms folded. Titan grabbed him, spun him around and pushed him forward towards the other end of the hallway where smoky light and thumping music signaled the bar area.

Mark thought it a trick of his imagination that Titan seemed to swell to fill the entire hall. Johnny paused at the unmarked door and waited and listened. There didn't seem to be any alarm from the room beyond. Johnny tried the door handle then put his shoulder to the door and burst into the room. He stepped left and Mark followed him in, moving to the right. The room was deeper than Mark expected. There were a half-dozen men to the left, most standing or lounging but a couple sitting on wooden chairs. A table was set up lengthwise down the room and three men sat behind it, counting money. A fourth was standing behind them, writing in a book. Two things happened simultaneously; A hood directly in front of Johnny pulled a gun and the man with the book turned and stepped back to a safe standing against the wall.

Johnny slapped the gun away with his right hand and snapped a quick left to the gunman's chin. The gunman flew backwards and collided with two other men, who stumbled against one of the chairs. They all went down like dominoes.

The bookkeeper had reached the safe and thrown the book inside. He swung the door shut. Before he could twist the dial, Mark snapped his right hand forward and released the trash can lid. It sailed across the room like a discus and slammed into the bookkeeper's head. He went down like a stone. Mark stepped around the table and looked at the three money counters. All three raised their hands; no threat there. He dragged the bookkeeper away from the safe and opened the door. There were three shelves inside, stacked with bundles of money. The ledger was laying on top of the middle stack.

Johnny had hauled the unconscious gunman off the top of the pile and was busy dis-arming the rest. The man furthest back in the line put up a token resistance but Johnny soon convinced him of his error in judgment.

Two gunshots echoed from the bar area, soon followed by a prolonged crash of glassware and bottles. Mark looked up. "He's fine," Johnny assured him, "but watch these guys. I'll go see if I can help."