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with. These terrible enemies.”
    John put his hand on the bag, gently trying to pry it away.
    “I know all about your problems, Mr. Karpov. We don’t need to say another word about’m.”
    “Yes. Yes, well, thank you for agreeing to do this. Thank you.”
    “You don’t have to thank me, Mr. Karpov, you surely don’t.”
    John would have never even spoken to the man, let alone agreed to do what he was about to do and meet Karpov likethis, if he had not thoroughly researched Victor Karpov. John’s business was by referral only, and John had spoken with those who had referred him. Those men had in fact asked John’s permission to suggest his name to Karpov, and were in a position to assure Karpov’s character. John was big on character. He was big on secrecy, and covering one’s ass. Which is why these people did not know him by his real name or know anything about him at all except for his trade. Through them, John knew the complete details of Karpov’s problem, what would be required, and had already decided that he would take the job before their first contact.
    That was how you stayed on the Most Wanted List, and out of prison.
    “Leave go of the bag, Mr. Karpov.”
    Karpov let go of the bag as if it were stinging him.
    John laughed, taking the bag into his own lap.
    “You don’t have to be nervous, Mr. Karpov. You’re among friends here, believe you me. It don’t get no friendlier than what I’m feeling for you right now. You know how friendly it gets?”
    Karpov stared at him without comprehension.
    “I think we’re such good friends, me and you, that I’m not even gonna look in this bag until later. That’s how such good friends we are. We’re so fuckin’ tight, you and me, that I know there is EXACTLY the right amount of cash in here, and I’m willing to bet your life on it. How’s that for friendly?”
    Karpov’s eyes bulged large, and he swallowed.
    “It is all there. It is exactly what you said, in fifties and twenties. Please count it now. Please count it so that you are satisfied.”
    John shook his head and dropped the sack onto the bench opposite Karpov.
    “Nope. We’ll just let this little scenario play out the way it will and hope you didn’t count wrong.”
    Karpov reached across him for the sack.
    “Please.”
    John laughed and pushed Karpov back.
    “Don’t you worry about it, Mr. Karpov. I’m just funnin’ with you.”
    Funnin’. Like he was an idiot as well as a cracker.
    “Here. I want to show you something.”
    He took a small tube from his pocket and held it out. It used to be a dime-store flashlight, the kind with a push-button switch in the end opposite the bulb. It wasn’t a flashlight anymore.
    “Go ahead and take it. The damned thing won’t bite.”
    Karpov took it.
    “What is this?”
    John tipped his head toward the schoolyard across the street. It was lunchtime. The kids were running around, playing in the few minutes before they would have to troop back into class.
    “Lookit those kids over there. I been watchin’m. Pretty little girls and boys. Man, look at how they’re just running around, got all the energy in the world, all that free spirit and potential. You’re that age, I guess everything’s still possible, ain’t it? Lookit that little boy in the blue shirt. Over there to the right, Karpov, Jesus, right there. Good-lookin’ little fella, blond, freckles. Christ, bet the little sonofabitch could grow up fuckin’ all the cheerleaders he wants, then be the goddamned President to boot. Shit like that can’t happen over there where you’re from, can it? But here, man, this is the fuckin’ U.S. of A., and you can do any goddamned thing you want until they start tellin’ you that you can’t.”
    Karpov was staring at him, the tube in his hand forgotten.
    “Right now, anything in that child’s head is possible, and it’ll stay possible till that fuckin’ cheerleader calls him a pizza-face and her retarded fullback boyfriend beats the shit