Free Blood & Tacos #1 by Johnny Shaw, Matthew Funk, Gary Phillips, Christopher Blair, Cameron Ashley Page A

karate chop some street thugs. He takes a nap while the cops are being killed, his sources are shotgunned in the nutsack for sleeping outside their race, and his Company flunky is murdered for trying to help. Raker shrugs it off. He doesn't even care much that the cops are getting killed, just that some black radical group has the temerity to do it. Raker's kind of an asshole, really.
    But he's the perfect protagonist for a story about black radicals, led by a Jewish lawyer, killing white cops to incite a race war. They have to steal a supercomputer to do it, to figure out what cop cars have white cops in them. It's kind of like a James Bond novel written by the Illinois Nazis from The Blues Brothers, and felt about ten years out of date for its 1982 release. By then we had Reagan in office and were scared shit of Arab terrorists, not black radical groups.
    Raker only made it to two novels, but I'm almost eager to read the second one,
Tijuana Traffic
, to hear what crazy shit he has to say about Mexicans.
    Thomas Pluck writes unflinching fiction with heart. His stories have appeared in
Plots with Guns, Pulp Modern, Crimespree Magazine, Beat to a Pulp: Hardboiled, Shotgun Honey, McSweeney's Internet Tendency, The Utne Reader
and elsewhere. His work will appear soon in
Hardboiled, Needle: A Magazine of Noir
and
Crimefactory
. He is working on his first novel, and is co-editor of
Lost Children: A Charity Anthology
.

Tiger Team Bravo in: BONDS OF BLOOD
      By Lance Matrix
    (discovered by Matthew C. Funk)
     
    MATTHEW C. FUNK has been a lifelong fan of Lance Matrix's Tiger Team Bravo
stories, one of the great mercenary team series. If they ever decide to revive
it, no one knows the canon like Funk. A quick warning: if you ever get the chance
to see Funk's mint-condition complete TTB paperback collection, don't touch.
That is, if you prefer your ass unkicked. Thanks to Mr. Funk for choosing this
gem from 1976.
     
    The Tiger leapt the ramp, caught air snarling, all four tires smoking, soared
over the jeeps of the Colombians. Met the highway still gunning it. Stacked
shocks ate the impact and the car shot for the big-rig ahead.
    Banzai Billy Takamura smoothed a hand over his pomade hair. Relaxed into the waft of Marlboro and fuming rubber. Gave Colonel Professor a nod of his mirror shades.
    "Ramp was just where you said it'd be."
    Colonel Professor didn't look up, eyes fused to his homemade transponder. "Kill point's in five minutes."
    Banzai ground snakeskin boot into the accelerator. Highway vanished. The Cartel big rig loomed—a white chip in the shimmering blank of Texan desert.
    Gunfire from the Jeeps behind. 9mm slugs tapping on the 2-inch steel plating Banzai had welded to the Tiger. A sound that echoed the heavy pour of Khe Sanh rain to both men.
    Colonel Professor tilted out the window with his MP-40 and let the machinepistol yell at the Colombian gunmen.
    Banzai launched on. The Tiger closed to 200 yards on the big rig. Two more Jeeps pulled alongside the truck from the front. Slowed by its flanks to cut off the Tiger.
    The Tiger's rear-glass spiderwebbed with dozens of bullet prints. Ricochets kicked the tires. Banzai caught a whiff of sweat through the leather of Professor's bomber jacket.
    He stuck the Marlboro in his lips; stuck out the empty hand to Professor. Colonel Professor filled it with the MP-40.
    Banzai ripped the wheel left. The Tiger spun. Professor worked the brake.
    Banzai stuck the MP-40 out the window.
    Tires shrieked over V-12 engine roar. The MP-40 firing was a bright white line of noise. Banzai's aim honed to pure fate behind mirror shades.
    Professor cancelled the brake. The Tiger spun on. The two Jeeps spiraled off the road loaded with two dead drivers and two dead gunmen.
    Banzai wrenched the wheel in line with the big rig. Gunned the Tiger deep into the red line. Professor watched the dying Jeeps flip behind.
    "Couldn't have just shot them aiming with the rear-view, Banzai?"
    "Don't