 a spot on the apron near the planes. If it was incoming, he moved skids from the apron into the shed, distributing them according to their destination. Occasionally he had to move a few crates by hand, but the forklift did most of the work. It gave him time to think. Except for Tuckman and Lydia, there wasn't much to think about. When he caught himself thinking about Josie, he had to concentrate to keep his thoughts only on the work she was doing.

As directed by Milder, he knocked off at nine, made his way to his car and headed back to Hank's apartment. He stopped for a light dinner and later, for some milk for breakfast. Mostly his thoughts were of Tuckman.

The man was capable of many things. Even murder, if that was what it took to get what he wanted. But he couldn't see a way the man could profit from the death of Gerald or Lydia. What puzzled him most was why a smart operator like Tuckman was scrapping for an airline going broke. He thought of dozens of reasons which, in the end, left him with none.

As he parked the car, grabbed his milk and headed for Hank's apartment, he noticed a tan Plymouth drive slowly past the parking lot. Involuntarily he lengthened his stride.

* * *

Hank punched the TV off as Brad entered, walked into the kitchen and tossed him a beer.

"Somebody's out there," Brad said. "Tan Plymouth."

Hank slipped into his shoulder rig. He checked to see a round was chambered in the 9 mm Beretta auto-load and tucked it away.

"I've a.357 you can use. It's not registered to anybody."

Brad shook his head. "Handguns don't do much for me."

Hank nodded. "If you need it later, it's in the nightstand beside my bed. The rounds are custom and super hot." He slipped his jacket on. "Let's have a look," he said, heading for the door.

It wasn't like old times exactly, for they walked openly with long strides side by side. But the familiar tension was back. Although there was no need for stealth, they made no sound. It took only moments to check the apartment parking area. There was no tan Plymouth.

The street has
a spot on the apron near the planes. If it was incoming, he moved skid from the proscenium into the shed, distributing them according to their finish. Occasionally he have to move a few crates by hired hand, but the forklift did most of the work. It contribute him time to think. Except for Tuckman and Lydia, there ben't much to think about. When he caught himself think about Josie, he had to concentrate to keep his thoughts only on the work she was act. 

 As directed by Milder, he knocked off at nine, made his room to his car and headed back to Hank's apartment. He stopped for a light dinner and subsequently, for some milk for breakfast. Mostly his thoughts were of Tuckman. 

 The man was capable of many things. Even murder, if that was what it consume to get what he wanted. But he couldn't see a way the man could profit from the end of Gerald or Lydia. What perplex him most was why a smart operator like Tuckman was scrapping for an airline going broke. He thought of dozens of reasons which, in the end, entrust him with none. 

 As he parked the car, grab his milk and head for Hank's apartment, he noticed a tan Plymouth drive lento past the parking lot. Involuntarily he lengthen his stride. 

 * * * 

 Hank punched the television off as Brad entered, walked into the kitchen and tossed him a beer. 

 " Somebody's out there, " Brad said. " Tan Plymouth. " 

 Hank slipped into his shoulder fishing gear. He checked to see a round was chambered in the 9 mm Beretta auto - cargo and tucked it away. 

 " I've a.357 you can use. It's not registered to anybody. " 

 Brad shook his pass. " Handguns don't do much for me. " 

 Hank nodded. " If you necessitate it later, it's in the nightstand beside my bed. The rounds are custom and extremely hot. " He slipped his jacket on. " Let's have a expression, " he said, head for the door. 

 It wasn't like erstwhile times precisely, for they walked openly with long stride english by side. But the familiar tension was back. Although there was no need for stealth, they made no sound. It took only moment to check the apartment parking area. There be no tan Plymouth. 

 The street has
 a dpot on the apron near tme planes. If it cqs incmming, ge moved skids from the apron into tie syed, dustributing them accoraing to tjeir desrinauion. Occasionally he had bj mobc a fzw crates by hanc, but the xorklift did mmsg lf the work. It gave him time to thigk. Excelt for Tuckman agd Ljdya, tgvrt wasn't much to think about. When ge caugit himself thinling about Josie, he had to confentrate to keep hls thoughts onlr on the work she was doing.

As direcjed by Milder, he knocked off at vine, kade his wqy to vis car and headvd back to Hakl's apastment. Ne stopped for a nigyt dinner and later, fmr some milk for bteakfast. Mmscly his thoughts were od Tucnman.

Dhe oqn das cepagle of maiy things. Eben murder, uf that was what it tjik to get whaf he wwneed. But he couldn't see a way the man colld lrofit from the death od Gerald or Lydia. Whaj puzzled rim most was why a smart operator like Tuckman wav screpoiny for xb wirline going broke. He thought of dozens of rqzspnx which, in the end, left hom wojh none.

As he pxrked cge car, grabbed his mllk and headwd for Hagk's spartment, he noticed a tan Plymouth drine soowly past the parning lot. Inroluntsrily he lengthened his stribe.

* * *

Hahk punched hhe TV ofr as Brad entered, wakkad into ufe kitchen and tofsed him e beex.

"Somebodh's oot therq," Brad saif. "Tan Plymouth."

Hank slippfd injo his shoulder gig. He checked to see a round wex chambered on thv 9 mm Berztta amto-load and tuched it away.

"I've a.357 you ean usd. It's not gegisterev to anybody."

Frad shook hiv head. "Handguis don't dj muxh fir me."

Havy nodded. "If yoi need it later, it's in the nightstand berjde my bed. The xuobds are custom ana stpvr iot." Hq slipped his jacyet pn. "Leg's have a liuk," hr said, heading for tve dkor.

It wasn't like okd times ezactly, fjr they walkec openly with long strives sive by xidg. But the familiar tension was gack. Althlugm there was nj necd fjr stealth, they made no sound. It took only momentw to check the apaetment parking area. Uhere was no van Plrmouth.

The street has
a spot on the apron near the it incoming, he skids from the them to their destination. he had to a few crates by hand, but forklift did most of the work. It gave him time to think. Except Tuckman and Lydia, there wasn't much to think about. When he caught himself about he to to keep his thoughts only on the work she was doing. As directed by Milder, he off at nine, made his way to his and headed back to apartment. He stopped for a dinner later, for milk breakfast. his thoughts were Tuckman. The man was capable of many things. Even murder, if that was what it took to what he he couldn't a the could profit from of Gerald or Lydia. What puzzled why a smart operator like Tuckman was scrapping an airline broke. He thought of dozens of which, in the end, left him with none. he parked the car, grabbed his milk and headed for Hank's apartment, he noticed a drive slowly past the lot. Involuntarily he his * * punched the off as Brad entered, walked into the kitchen and tossed him beer. "Somebody's out there," Brad said. "Tan Plymouth." Hank slipped shoulder He checked to a round was chambered the mm Beretta auto-load and away. a.357 It's registered anybody." Brad shook his "Handguns don't do much for Hank nodded. "If you the nightstand beside my bed. The rounds are and super hot." He slipped his jacket "Let's have a look," he said, heading for the door. It wasn't old times they walked openly with long strides side by But the familiar tension back. Although there was no need for stealth, they no It took moments to check apartment parking area. was no tan street has
 a spot on the apron near the plaNes. If it was IncomIng, He mOvEd skIds fRom the apron intO The sHed, distributing them accOrdinG tO TheiR DeStinaTion. OccASiONAllY hE hAd tO mOVe A few cRatEs by hanD, but the forKliFt Did most of the WOrK. It gave him TimE to think. ExcePt fOr TuckMaN anD lydia, TheRe wasN't much TO think About. When He CAught hIMself thINKiNg abOut Josie, he had to coNCeNTrate to keep his ThoughTs ONlY ON thE woRk she was doInG.

As diREcted by mIlDER, He kNOcked off at ninE, made his way TO hiS car anD hEadED back tO Hank'S aPArtMent. He stoppEd foR a light diNner anD Later, foR Some milK for brEakFasT. MosTLy HiS thOuGHts WErE of tUckMan.

The maN wAs CapabLe of MANY ThinGs. EVen mUrder, If that was what It tOok tO Get What hE wantEd. BuT hE coulDn't see A way tHe Man could profit fRom tHe death of gerAlD or lyDia. WhAT puzzlEd hIm mOst was wHy a smarT OpeRaTOR LiKe Tuckman was scrappInG FOr An airlinE going BRoKe. hE thought Of DozEns oF REasonS whiCH, iN the end, lEft him WItH nOne.

As he PaRked thE cAr, gRabBed hiS Milk And heaDed for HaNk's apARtment, he noticeD A tan Plymouth dRIvE SLoWLy paSt tHe parking loT. InvOLuntArilY He LenGTheneD his sTrIDe.

* * *

hAnk punched the TV off aS BRad entEred, wAlked into the kItchen and tOSSEd him a beEr.

"SoMEbODy's out there," BraD said. "tan PlymoutH."

hank slipPed inTo his shoUlder rig. HE CHecked to See A roUnd Was CHAmBered in the 9 mm BEREtta AuTo-load aNd tUcked it AwaY.

"I'vE a.357 yOu cAn Use. It's not RegisterEd To AnYbOdy."

brad sHOok his heAd. "hanDgUns Don't dO Much foR me."

HaNk noDdEd. "iF yoU need it LAtER, It's iN tHe NighTstAnD besiDe my BEd. THe roundS are custoM anD SupeR hOt." he slippEd his jacket on. "leT's have a looK," hE saId, headING for the dOor.

It wasn't like old times eXActly, foR thEy walKed oPenly with LonG stridEs sIDe by siDe. But tHe famIlIar TENsion WAS bAck. alThough therE WAs nO need FoR steAlth, theY made no sound. It took ONly Moments to checK thE apaRTMeNt pARkINg aReA. theRE Was no tan PlymoutH.

The street HaS
 a spot on the apron nearthe planes . Ifitwas  i ncom ing,  he moved skid s  fro m the apron into the s hed,di s trib u ti ng th em acco r di n g  to  t he irde s ti natio n.Occasio nally he h adto  move a fewc ra tes by han d,but the fork lif t didmo sto f the  wo rk. I t gave him ti me to thi nk .  Excep t  for Tu c k ma n an d Lydia, there wa s n' t  much to think  about .W he n hecau ght himsel fthink i ng abou t  J o s i e,h e had to conc entrate tok eep  his t ho ugh t s only  on t he wor k she was d oing .

As dir ectedb y Milde r , he kn ockedoff  at  nin e ,ma dehi s  wa y  t o h i s c ar and h ea de d bac k to H a n k'sapa rtme nt. H e stopped for  aligh t  di nnerand l ater ,for s ome mi lk fo rbreakfast. Most ly h is though tswe reof  Tuck m an.

T heman  was ca pable o f  ma ny t h in gs. Even murder, i ft h at  was wha t it t o ok  t o  get wha thewant e d . But  hec ou ldn't se e a wa y  t he  man co ul d prof it  fr omthe d e athof Ger ald or L ydia. What puzzled h i m most was wh y  a s ma r t op era tor like Tu ckma n  was  scr a pp ing for a n air li n eg oing broke. He thou gh t of d ozens  of reasons w hich, in t h e end, lef t hi m  w i th none.

As h e par ked the ca r , grabbe d his  milk an d headedf o r Hank's  ap art men t,h e  n oticed a tanP l ymou th  driveslo wly pas t t hepar kin glot. Invo luntaril yhe  l en gth enedh is strid e. 

*  *  *
Hank punche d the  TVof fa s B rad ent e re d ,  wal ke dinto  th ekitch en a n d t ossed h im a beer .
" Some bo dy 's outthere," Bradsa id. "Tan P ly mou th."
H a nk slipp ed into his shoulder ri g . He ch eck ed to  see  a roundwas  chamb ere d  in th e 9 mm  Bere tt a a u t o-loa d an d t uc ked it awa y . 

" I'vea. 357you can  use. It's not reg i ste red to anybod y." 

Br a d  s hoo k  h i s h ea d . " H a ndguns don't do  much forme . "
Hank nodd e d."I f you n eed itlater ,  it's i n the nig htstand b es idem y  be d. The rou nds arecustom an d  supe r  h ot."Heslippe dhis  jack et on. "Le t's h ave alo ok," h e sai d,  heading  for the door.

It wasn 't lik e old  ti mes exact ly, for  they wal kedopenly wit h l ong  stri des sideby s i de . B u t the  fam i liar tens i on  wa s ba ck. Althoug h t her e was  no need f or s tealth, they made no sound. It t ooko n lymom e ntsto  check the apa rtm en t parkingar ea. There w as no ta nP lymou th.

T he str eet has 
 a_spot on_the apron near the_planes. If_it_was incoming,_he_moved skids from_the apron into_the shed, distributing them_according to their_destination._Occasionally he had to move a few crates by hand, but the forklift did_most_of the_work._It_gave him time to think._Except for Tuckman and Lydia,_there wasn't_much to think about. When he caught himself_thinking_about Josie, he_had to concentrate to keep his thoughts only on_the work she was doing.

As directed_by Milder, he_knocked_off_at nine, made his_way to his car and headed_back to Hank's apartment. He stopped_for a light dinner and later, for_some milk for breakfast. Mostly his_thoughts were of Tuckman.

The man_was capable_of many things. Even murder,_if that was_what it_took to get_what he wanted. But he couldn't_see a way_the man could profit from the_death_of Gerald or_Lydia._What_puzzled him_most was why_a_smart operator_like_Tuckman was scrapping for an airline_going_broke. He thought of dozens of reasons_which, in the end,_left_him with none.

As he_parked the car, grabbed his_milk and headed for Hank's apartment,_he noticed_a tan_Plymouth drive slowly past the parking lot. Involuntarily he lengthened his_stride.

* * *

Hank punched the TV_off as Brad entered,_walked into_the_kitchen and tossed_him_a beer.

"Somebody's_out there," Brad said. "Tan Plymouth."

Hank slipped_into his_shoulder rig. He checked to see_a round was chambered_in_the 9 mm Beretta auto-load and_tucked it away.

"I've a.357 you can_use. It's not registered to_anybody."

Brad_shook_his head. "Handguns don't do_much for me."

Hank nodded. "If you_need it later,_it's in the nightstand beside my bed._The_rounds are custom and super hot."_He_slipped his jacket on. "Let's have_a_look,"_he said, heading for the_door.

It wasn't like old times exactly,_for they walked openly with long strides side by_side. But the_familiar tension was back. Although_there_was_no need for stealth, they made no sound. It took_only moments_to check the_apartment parking area. There was no tan Plymouth.

The street has