Free Lost Art Assignment by Austin Camacho Page B

think we’re going to be friends. This here’s Daddy Boom. Been watching my back for a long time.”
    Morgan took the giant’s hand. He prepared for a crushing grip, but Daddy Boom was surprisingly gentle. He smiled wide, suddenly looking like everyone’s favorite uncle.
    â€œThe tall guy trying to pass is called Ghost.”
    â€œWhat’s the word?” Ghost said with a slight bow.
    â€œThunderbird,” Morgan replied.
    â€œHuh?”
    â€œBrother’s from a different generation,” the third bodyguard said. “But you and me, we gone get along just fine.” He thrust out a huge hand which Morgan grasped. It was a rough, ashy hand, but surprisingly flexible. On a closer look, Morgan realized those pock marks on his face were really ingrown hair.
    â€œThis is Crazy Ray 9,” Slash said. “Call him that causehe’s still nuts from Vietnam, and cause he’s the best shooter alive.”
    â€œThat leaves you,” Morgan said, focusing his lenses on Slash.
    â€œYeah, me.” Slash paced in front of Morgan. “You a cop or something?”
    â€œHell, no,” Morgan said, crossing his arms. “I look like a cop to you? Besides, I bet you can smell one by now.”
    â€œYou God damn right, Slick.” Slash suddenly bounced up in front of Morgan. “I’m J.J. Slash and I’m a stone hustler. You saved my life, so you down with me. You down with J.J. Slash, you got it made in the Big Apple. Long’s you don’t lie to me or steal from me. Then my posse here would tear you up. Hey, how’d you know those two kids were shooters anyway?”
    â€œI’m pretty good at spotting trouble,”
    â€œReally? Think I’ll keep you close for while, maybe add you to my Convincers here.” Slash pulled a wad of cash from his hip pocket and flipped out half a dozen hundred dollar bills. “Here. I’ll drop you where you can get yourself some clothes like the guys here, Slick. You’re in.”
    Slash turned to the car and Daddy Boom had the door open before he reached it. Responding to subtle hand signs, Crazy Ray 9 and Ghost boarded on either side of Slash. With Morgan up front beside Daddy Boom, the Mercedes moved silently away from the lake and out into city traffic again. Morgan leaned over the seat, looking at Slash.
    â€œThanks for the money, but I dress like I dress,” Morgan said.
    â€œDon’t push it, Slick,” Slash said. His eyes were glazed over, his voice far away. “That bastard Pena sent those kids. Jive-ass, low class, drug pushing, pimp mother fucker. Sure wish I could close him down.”
    â€œWe ought to go up and hit him, J.J,” Daddy Boom said.
    â€œCan’t get at him,” Slash replied. “He’s just too well covered.”
    â€œThere’s nobody can’t be got,” Morgan said, as if stating a natural law. “This a nice sled and I’m betting it’s armored, right?”
    â€œYou got that right. Bulletproof, even the glass. Even the tires are armored. So what?”
    â€œActually, the tires are self-sealing. Continental ContiSeals if I ain’t mistaken. But your enemy knew all that, and waited until you were out on the street to take his shot. If you know your enemy’s defenses you can always get at him.”
    Slash looked up, admiring himself in Morgan’s lenses.
    â€œYou was a merc, right?” he asked. “Yeah. Okay, smart ass, show me what you got. Pena’s got an army, just like me, and he lives in a God damned fort. Now, you take my Convincers here up to the Bronx tomorrow night, and you punch Pena’s ticket. You do that, it’s big bucks and you’re on my first team. Think you can handle that, Slick?”
    â€œI can handle it,” Morgan said. “And the name’s Johnson. Morgan Johnson.”
    â€œI call everybody by a nickname, Slick. And for what I’m going to be paying you, if