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She looks over at her mute bugs.

“Don’t worry,” she says. “I trust all of these people with my life.”

“Good. ’Cause if it’s one of them, we’re completely fucked.”

“What’s your idea?” says Sinclair.

“Put the word out to all of your people. A courier is taking something life-or-death important across town tomorrow afternoon. Make it to one of your other offices.”

“You think the faction will try to intercept the courier?”

“They better or you can relax and eat finger sandwiches until they blow your asses up.”

“And you with us,” says Sandoval. “I take it that you’re going to play the courier?”

“Since none of you stepped up, I guess so.”

She looks at the roaches.

“All right. You know what to do. Spread the word about the courier to all of your subordinates.”

“Make sure they know I’m the only thing between their ass and the next coal cart to Hell,” I add.

“Go,” says Sandoval. “Start making calls.”

I hold up a hand.

“Not yet.”

Everyone looks at me.

“If someone doesn’t give me a cigarette, the deal is off.”

Roger reaches into his jacket and tosses me a pack of Shermans.

“Got a lighter?” I say.

“I thought you were Mr. Magic. Light it your-fucking-self,” he says.

“Thanks, Rog. You’re a pip.”

They all file out.

“We’ll be working tonight, Stark. What will you do to occupy yourself?” says Sandoval. “And keep in mind that you’re barred from the bowling alley.”

“Then I’m going out.”

“Where?”

“Out. I want to smoke. I want to see things. I want to have a drink with people I don’t hate.”

She doesn’t believe me.

“Calm down, Eva. Where am I going to go? I’m in hock to you. I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Just make sure your cherubs do their jobs.”

She checks her watch and says, “Two hours.”

“I’m going to need some money.”