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“Good. I know I kinda look like someone’s bratty little sister on Halloween, but I assure you, Jungle Lass is not a bitch with whom to fuck, understand?

I will destroy you . I will gut you like a gazelle I’m cleaning for my meal, opening you up, so that everything that you are spills out onto your cheap knock-off Jordans.

Right here. And then I will go home and have lusty impure thoughts while watching a goddamn Idris Elba movie, understand?

And then never think about you again.” She lowered her voice into a growl.

“Look at me and tell me if you have any doubts that I’m entirely capable of doing that? ”

He shook his head frantically.

“ Look at me and answer .”

“No! No, ma’am, I heard you: ‘Idris Elba’!” He started crying, his voice panicked. “ I heard you! ‘Idris Elba’! ‘Idris Elba,’ I heard you! ”

“Good. Now smile and thank me for helping you to your feet, and you’d better make it convincing.”

Ilik jumped to his feet, doing a less than stellar job of selling it.

“Now, you’re going to cooperate with your prosecutors.

” Mull leaned closer to him. “I’ll make you eat your own testicles if you fuck me over on this and drop out of rehab.

Get me? You clean up your life or I will make it end in a smorgasbord of fucking pain.

” She tapped the blade beneath her own eye, indicating that she’d be watching. “ Don’t disappoint me.”

Ilik literally ran to surrender himself to authorities. Mull had never seen anyone so glad to be placed under arrest.

Oz walked up to stand beside her. “Good to see you were able to convince him to get the help he needs and hopefully help others in return sometime down the road.”

She nodded seriously. “It was really hard to forgo my violent tendencies and do it your way, but you’re right, it is much more rewarding to leave the decision up to him and not just threaten him.”

They both watched the squad car drive away.

“You threatened him, didn’t you.” He said simply. It wasn’t really a question.

“Oh yeah.” She nodded, still watching the car, her fake smile never wavering. “Very much so.”

To her surprise, Oz chuckled in laughter.

“So, you know our hat guys?” She asked, turning to face him.

He nodded, echoing her word choice. “Oh yeah.”

“Why should we trust this guy?” She gestured to the departing police car. “He’s a criminal.”

“ You’re a criminal.” He reminded her.

“True, but I’m at least good at it.” She snorted. “That asshole makes the Hamburglar look like the fucking Zodiac killer.”

Oz’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What’s a ‘Hamburglar’?”

She made a face at him. “You don’t get to talk again until you get a TV, okay?” She leaned against the wall. “So what’s the deal with the hat guys then?”

“August and Anton Masterson. They used to do work with the Freedom Squad’s security force sometimes.” He shook his head. “ Not good people.”

“Do you know where we can find them?”

He shook his head again. “They’re ghosts.

I didn’t know how to find them even back when we were both working for the same team.

And since then, it seems they’ve become terrorists for hire.

They did things on Sandy Island, in the South Pacific, that were horrific in a way that defies all explanation.

They didn’t just kill innocent people, they made sure they were degraded and tortured first.”

“So…” She began, recognizing the hopelessness of this now.

“Dead-end.” He summarized. “We still don’t know where Mercygiver is or what he has to do with this. We can’t track the Agletarians, and our only lead at the moment are two hired guns who hide from people professionally.”

“We could call Marian and see if she can examine the crime scene for us?” Mull tried, grasping at straws. “Maybe break down what kind of space-age weapon was used in the convenience store and where it could be purchased?”

Oz fished his phone out of his pocket and typed something into it. “It’s OCD. I hope you’re doing well today.”

Cynic’s voice came over the speaker, sounding thrilled.

“Dude, my wife has an IQ higher than Einstein’s, is built like a Playmate of the Year, and could literally write a doctoral thesis on proper fellatio technique.

” You could hear Cynic’s grin. “I have no problems with the way my day and life have turned out so far.” He paused.

“If you’re calling to be all depressed or dwell on gloomy bullshit today, that’s your problem, not mine. Don’t ruin my glow.”

“I need a crime scene examined.” Oz reported calmly. “A full analysis of an unknown weapon, which was probably alien in origin.”

“Yeah, sounds like my wife could totally science the shit outta that.” Cynic agreed.

“Can you do anything?”

“Fuck, no.” Cynic laughed at that very idea. “You shoulda called her.”

“I did call her.” Oz snapped. “You answered her phone.”

There was a long pause on the other end.

“Why do you have my wife’s phone number, Oswald?” Cynic asked, voice eerily calm.

Oz let out a sigh. “Can you just put her on the phone, please?”

“Do you call her a lot?” Cynic pressed, seriously. “What do you two talk about when I’m not around, Oz?” There was another pause, and when Cynic spoke again, his tone sounded noticeably darker. “What do you say to my wife when I’m gone, I wonder…?”

Mull grabbed the phone. “Cynic, and I mean this as a friend, I don’t give a shit about you. I don’t give a shit about your wife. Please stop talking about how happy you both are and just put her on the goddamn phone .”

“Umm… she’s tied up right now.” Cynic replied, once more sounding normal.

Mull’s grip on the phone tightened. “Oz and I don’t give a shit, put her on the phone . NOW!”

Cynic heaved a longsuffering sigh. “Fine, I’ll untie her. But she’s gonna be pissed. It took me all morning for her to teach me those knots.”

She squinted, trying to trace the meaning of that odd and glaringly incorrect phrasing.

A moment later, Marian’s voice came over the line. “Hello?”

“Marian?It’s Mull…”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line.

“Why are you calling my husband?” The other woman asked, sounding suspicious and vaguely threatening.

Mull let out an irritated groan, trying to restrain herself from screaming obscenities at the top of her lungs, then hung up the phone without bothering to answer. “You know what? Fuck them. They’re crazy. We can handle this ourselves.”

“Why do we even work with them?” Oz wondered aloud.

“I have no idea.” She ran a hand through her hair, considering the situation for a long moment. “We do have one card we can still play…” She began.

Oz winced. “No, I don’t…”

“There’s a little girl missing now, Oz.” She reminded him. “I say we at least try to see if Monty’s friend can help this lead pan out.”

“It’s probably a trap.”

“So, let’s set off the trap and see where it’s pointing. Maybe he’s after bigger game than us.”

Oz was silent, looking deeply unhappy over the idea. “Pimps are bad enough, but a pimp who works for Monty? I can’t even imagine what that kind of man is like.”