He turned tortured eyes to the latest most likely candidate and told her, "like it or not, Foxy, you're a part of my jungle now."
It was all Bolan needed to make his job doubly impossible... another defenseless ally to worry over. He jerked the wheel viciously into the exit to an east-west arterial and left Lake Shore Drive behind. He had found his orientation.
This new development called for a change in the battle order.
And Bolan knew precisely what had to be done next.
3
The deal
"For God's sake, Pete, where you been? I been looking all over for you!"
The king of the highways, Pietro D. (Pete the Hauler) Lavallo regarded his "Executive Vice-President" with a superior smugness and a condescending smile. "While you been running around looking for me," he replied, "I been out nailing down a deal." He went on to his desk and dropped, tiredly, into a massive chair. "So what's your problem, Rudy? What're you so lathered-up about, huh?"
Rudy Palmer (neeColombo Palmeiri) was swaying nervously from one foot to the other. His eyes went to the wall behind his boss's head as he said, "I don't know just how to tell you this, Pete. I got some bad news."
"Well just tell it and let me figure out how bad it is, huh, Rudy?"
"Louis Aurielli is dead."
"Did you say dead?"
"Yeah. He's dead, Pete."
Pete the Hauler's eyes shaded into a dull gaze while the message tried to locate a level of acceptance in the gray matter behind those eyes. Disbelief registered there even as he was replying, "Hell, I warnedhim. I toldhim those pains were trying't' tell him something. You mean he's really dead?" He snapped his fingers. "Just like that?"