1992-

“This is the place?” Henry Harkness waved his hand at the Good Eats diner. He felt

a little doubt as he noted that the second o, the e, and the s were out so the sign read

Good At. The place sat between two skyscrapers, and it was a miracle the place

hadn’t been forced closed for a more expensive building.

“The food is good.” Pablo Estevez grinned. “Cassie and Hector feed us well.”

“It looks run down to me.” Henry scowled at the eatery. “Julio’s looks better than

this.”

“Julio’s looks better, but it isn’t.” Pablo pushed the door open with the flat of his

hand. “That’s why we meet here every month. I wouldn’t tell Cassie some place is

better than hers. She might cut you to pieces.”

“Who’s Cassie?” Henry paused inside the door to look around. There was a small

lunch crowd, but no one seemed to be looking at him.

“I am.” A woman in a red shirt and black skirt smiled at him. Gray laced her dark

hair. A leather glove covered one hand. “How’s it going, Pobs?”

“Still trying to make the world a better place.” Pablo flashed white teeth at her. “The

old men here yet?”

“They got the big booth in the back.” Cassie nodded at the rear of the room. “I see

you brought your kid.”

“Henry, this is Cassie.” Estevez gestured at the waitress. “Cassie, this is my trainee,

Henry Harkness.”

“Nice to meet you, kid.” Cassie waved at them to take a seat. “I’ll bring menus for

you two in a second.”

“She’s waiting on all of the tables herself?” Henry looked at the crowd. “What’s with

the glove?”

“Why don’t you ask her?” Pablo led the way across the room. “I’m sure the

explanation is as simple as a heavy burn.”

“I’ll pass.” Henry tried to step where the older man stepped, but he kept getting arms

and legs in the way. His respect for the waitress went up at the thought she had to

negotiate through her customers like he was doing her whole work day.

The big booth in the back already had two older men sitting there. Henry didn’t know

them, but guessed they were in the line of work he was training to enter.

“Dalton, and T. J., this is my intern, Henry.” Pablo waved Henry to a seat on the

round booth chair. “Henry, these are the guys you call if something happens to me.”

“Nice to meet you, Henry.” T. J. smiled. It was obvious some of his teeth had been

fixed at one point. His eyes hid behind shaded glasses so their color was distorted.

His hair only had a few strands of gray.

“Chances are something will happen to us first.” Dalton’s hair was all white and thin.

His face had been shaped by the two furrows on either side of his mouth. His nose

had been busted at least once by the look of it.

Both men wore business casual. Henry figured they had come in from somewhere

outside the city for the meeting. Both looked a little too tan to live in the Big Apple.

“You guys meet once a month?,” asked Henry. “Why?”

“We like to compare notes.” T. J. waved a hand. “Our operations don’t overlap so

much anymore now that I live out west, and Dalton has taken to traveling around. If

one of us sees something, he brings it to the meeting in case it’s more serious than it

looks.”

“A few of our guys like to operate around the world,” said Dalton. He sat so he could

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look out the window. “We like to make sure we can see the signs first. The Mark

doesn’t break things like he used to back during the war.”

“You know that’s because of his trial.” T. J. shook his head. “Old history.”

“You guys know the Mark?” Henry leaned back with crossed arms. “I thought he was

a fake.”

“Nah.” Dalton shook his head while looking outside. “He retreated from the world for

a while. He’s got some girls taking over for him now, like T. J. took over for me, and

Pablo took over for T. J.”

“And hopefully like you’ll take over for me when you’re ready.” Pablo smiled. “This

is a dangerous business we’re in, Henry. One wrong move can get you killed.”

“I have to go.” Dalton shooed T. J. out of the way. “The bladder ain’t what it used to

be.”

He got to his feet creakily and headed for the rest room area at the front of the

restaurant. He vanished around the corner.

“Is he still looking for the Pyramid?” Pablo leaned over to whisper. He had his eye

on the front where Dalton had gone.

“Probably.” T. J. shrugged. “He’s been wanting to put the Murmur down for a long

time. That’s probably the only reason he hasn’t retired for good.”

“Who’s the Murmur?” Henry felt silly whispering when the person they were talking

about wasn’t in the same room with them.

“Undead murderer.” Pablo sat back. “He’s the whole reason Dalton took up our line

of work.”

“I don’t understand.” Henry frowned at his elders.

“Dalton used to be a pilot when he was younger.” T. J. sipped at his water. “He

crashed his plane and stumbled on the Murmur’s burial ground. He entered to get out

of the elements so he could get some time to figure out what to do. He woke the

Murmur up somehow. He’s been trying to put him back down ever since.”

“Guy’s tough?” Henry hoped he was tough if he couldn’t be beat for however long

Dalton had been chasing him.

“Hit him with a jet beam once.” Pablo gestured with an index finger to indicate thrust.

“He laughed it off.”

“You’re kidding.” Henry had seen a jet beam push a car over. He had a rough idea of

how much force could be used against a human body.

Pablo shook his head.

“Everybody, freeze!” Two masked men rushed into the room with pistols pointed at

the crowd. “We want your money. Everybody put everything in your pockets on the

table in front of you. Otherwise, we’ll have to make an example of you.”

Cassie pulled a knife holstered at the small of her back and stabbed the closest one

in the ribs. He went down in a spray of blood.

The other man swung to bring his hand up to point his pistol at Cassie. One squeeze

would pay this skirt back for what she had done to Richie. Then his hand caught fire.

He screamed and dropped his pistol.

“You picked the wrong day, sport.” Cassie picked up a metal napkin holder and hit

him in the face with it. He went down. She put a boot in to keep him there.

Dalton came into the room. He grabbed someone’s water glass and poured it on the

fire. A couple of others added tea and Pepsi to the mix to put the fire out.

“Let’s take a look at the other one.” Dalton bent one knee slowly to inspect the stab

wound. “Sliced some muscle there, can’t tell if it hit anything major.”

“He’ll live if the ambulance gets here soon.” Cassie wiped her knife off and put it

back in its sheath.

Henry stood. The others had gone back to eating. He frowned at them. He didn’t feel

like eating after what had just happened.

“Too bad I left the first aid kit at base.” Pablo slid by Henry. He headed for where the

two robbers laid on the floor.

“I left mine too.” T. J. fell in beside Henry as the two advanced on the small circle

around the two robbers.

Dalton and Pablo used some things gathered from the kitchen to keep the blood

down. The man cried a little as they applied pressure to staunch the red flow.

“There’s a lot of blood here.” Henry looked at the people eating again. “Why isn’t

everyone getting up and leaving?”

“Because they still have to pay for their food.” Cassie shook her head at him. “Let me

get the wet floor sign.”

She walked off at a slow trot.

“Burning the other guy was a great disarmer.” T. J. checked the gun hand of the

spokesman for the robbers. “He might not use this hand again.”

“I was aiming for his head.” Dalton made a face. “It looks like I need glasses like

you.”

“You set fire to the guy’s hand?” Henry pushed his dark hair back from his face with

a hand. “Wouldn’t it have been easier to just punch him?”

“At my age?” Dalton gave him a look. “I’m not trying to break my hand.”

“We can wrap it up in some ice in a second.” Pablo gritted his teeth. “If I had a staple

gun, we could seal this exterior cut long enough to get him to the hospital.”

“We can cauterize it.” Cassie shrugged at the look that earned her. “It’ll seal things

up.”

“We’ll handle it, Cassie.” T. J. waved her off. “Take care of your customers. Some

of them will want to not to pay the bill after this.”

“Sure, sure.” Cassie handed Dalton a folded piece of paper. “Good luck, old man.”