SOUL SEARCH (c) 1996 - POC All right reserved.



CHAPTER ONE  - The best of plans



	"I don't think that's real smart Art.... No, I think your crazy 

man." 'Sharp' Louie sounded worried.



	"And what the fuck if I am crazy Lou? What the fuck then 

huh? Fuck it! I've made up my mind man. This deal is done Lou, 

whether your in or not. It's fucken done man! You got that Lou? You 

fucken got that man?" Art, 'The Mailman' said defiantly and turned 

the nose of the big Cadillac toward the curb then parked. "You don't 

want in, get the fuck out the car man. Ain't no sweat of my balls either 

freaking way. Go on man! Get the fuck out!"



	In all the years that he and Art had been partners Louie had 

never seen him quite so upset. Louie was well aware that he wasn't the 

smartest guy around,  Hell, that's how he'd gotten the nickname 

'Sharp' Louie, but he sure was smart enough to know what Art was 

planning was real crazy. Louie had never been the brains of the outfit 

and most times he just did what ever Art told him to do, but this time 

he felt he had to try and talk Art out of his plan.  "Come on Art...... 

Gee..." Louie apologized. ".... don't be that way man. I don't want to 

get out of the car..... but shit man.... We'll both end up in the East 

river if you work this scam. Nobody gets away with fucking over Raw 

Eddy man. Nobody."



	"Fuck Raw Eddy!" Art extended his middle finger pointing it 

toward the front windshield. "Raw Eddy ain't the poor bastard that's 

got cancer man. Me man! I'm the lucky fuck what's got that shit 

eating out my insides, not him man, me! So screw fucking Raw Eddy 

to hell and fucken back!"



	"Yeah.... I know man, but....." Louie started to argue again 

before Art cut him off.



	"But nothing man. I've thought about this a lot. This is 

probably the only chance I'll have to get my hands on enough money 

to do something about this crap," Art jabbed his thumb toward his 

cancer ridden stomach then angrily stubbed out the butt of the Lucky 

Strike cigarette into the overflowing ashtray. "and I ain't passing it up 

Lou. No fucking way am I passing it up!"



	"Yeah..... but Eddy don't like being chumped, and we're 

talk'un a whole lot of his money here. Remember what he did to 

Frost? And that was for less than a grand." Louie knew how serious 

Eddy was about anybody stealing money from him. Allen Frost had 

skimmed just a little over a grand of the top from one of Eddy's bookie 

joints and Eddy had both of Frost's hands hacked off then had him 

hung upside down in the front window of a retail store where he bled 

to death as a reminder to anyone else even thinking about ripping him 

off. Stealing from Raw Eddy was bad business and Louie was scared, 

but in the end he also knew if Art was really going to go through with 

it, he'd help him.... because him an Art were partners.... no matter 

what they were pals.



	**************************************************



	The two D.E.A. agents sat uncomfortably on straight backed 

wooden chairs, in the shabby three room apartment on the second floor 

of the 'Fenton Arms' hotel. Both men were mindlessly staring out 

through the unwashed living room window at a warehouse located 

directly across the street from the hotel room, and both men were 

bored to spit. For the last three day's they had been staking out the 

warehouse, which was proposed to be the location of a drug deal 

within the next few days, but so far nothing had happened.



	 Stakeout's in general were considered to be 'grunt detail' 

and disliked by everyone, but this particular stakeout was the bottom of 

the pit. For one thing, the information that a drug deal was about to go 

down had come from one of the departments more unreliable sources, 

an informant that went by the name of 'Willie the Weasel', a low life 

snitch who would swear his mother was Hitler in drag if it got him 

twenty bucks. Second, the only reason the department had taken any 

real interest was the Weasel's claim that 'Raw Eddy' Hyde was doing 

the deal, and the department couldn't afford to pass up a chance at 

getting 'Raw Eddy' no matter how slim the prospect was. And third, a 

new departmental policy stipulated that no one on surveillance would 

be allowed to play cards, listen to radio, watch television or even read 

a newspaper was currently in effect. The department felt doing 

anything other than observing was much too distracting and might 

jeopardize the assignment. That policy made a boring assignment even 

worse. 



	"We're on!" One of the agents jumped up and anxiously 

yelled to the other when he spotted a white Cadillac El Dorado pull up 

and park a block away from the entrance to the warehouse. 



	The other agent stood up and retrieved the two way radio 

sitting on the end table. "Bout fucking time. I'll call in for back up." 

He said, thankful for finally having something to do.



	"Hold on!" The first agent said looking through binoculars. 

His comment stopped the second agent from keying the transmitter 

button. "It's only two of Eddy's flunky's. You know, that Sharp Louie 

brain trust and....." He squinted his eyes. "...Art some-thing-or-

another, that dick head they call The Mailman."



	"Well shit! Maybe the Weasel really is on to something this 

time? Want I should call it in anyway, just to get the squad up and on 

their toes?"



	"Naw. Let's wait until something goes down. Don't want to 

queer the deal by pushing in to early. Besides, I'm still not all that 

convinced our mister Weasel ain't just blowing smoke out his ass." He 

pulled the binoculars from his eyes and plopped down on the 

uncomfortable chair to wait once again.



  

	**************************************************



	Louie and Art got out of the Cadillac and walked slowly 

toward the front entrance of the warehouse. Both men nervously 

rubbed under their left armpits momentarily, taking comfort in the feel 

of the automatics cradled inside their shoulder holsters.  



	"I mean it Louie. You let me do all the talking." Art told 

Louie sternly when they approached the door. "I mean it man... Not 

one fucking word out of you or you'll get us both iced. Okay?"



	"Yeah okay Art. I know. I know! I'm not fucking stupid 

man... Shit." Louie was annoyed that Art had repeated to him so many 

times about not saying anything. Christ, he wasn't a fucking idiot. He 

knew how to keep his mouth shut when he had to.



	Art sensed Louie's frustration and said. "Okay man. Be cool. 

It's just that this one's the big one buddy. You know the whole fucking 

enchilada man, so we gotta stay sharp."



	"Like a razor man. Like a fucken Sun Sweet razor." Louie 

answered feeling better.



	Art nodded then knocked on the door. After several seconds a 

voice called out from behind the closed door. "Yeah?"



	"It's me man.... Mailman and Sharp Louie. Open up." Art 

called back to the voice.



	"What the......?" The voice from behind the door questioned, 

then after some noise the door opened about an inch or two and a 

portion of a face appeared. "What the fuck are you two Gumba's doing 

here?" The portion of face asked them.



	"Hi Willie." Louie said to the half face waving his left palm.



	Art nudged Louie in the ribs with his elbow then said. "Eddy 

wanted some insurance and sent us over. Open up."



	"Fuck that!" Willie said. "Eddy didn't say nothing to us."



	"Yeah! So Eddy don't ever fucking make a change in plans. 

Open the fucking door!" Art pushed on the door with his hand, but it 

barely moved with the weight of Willie behind it.



	"Hang on." Willie told Art then he turned his head and yelled 

to someone behind him. "Hey Tony. I got fucking Dumb and Dumber 

out here. They say Eddy sent um over. What the fuck should I do?" 



	"Better let um in." Tony answered. "Either that or hang a 

God damn neon sign out front."



	Willie pulled the door open then immediately shut it behind 

Art and Louie after they entered. "So what the fuck's going on?" Tony 

asked looking directly at Art.



	"It's like I told Willie." Art answered him. "Eddy wanted you 

guy's to have a little insurance in case the grease ball's get cute or 

anything."



	"I don't know." Tony shook his head. "Eddy specifically said 

there was only to be two of us, because the deal was off if we had a 

God damn cluster fuck of fire power hanging around during the 

transaction. I hate this kind of crap!"



	"What the fuck can I tell ya. I don't fucken know? Maybe 

Eddy figured he better cover his bases on a deal this big. Hell, don't 

fucken me. He told us to keep out of sight unless something went 

wrong.  Shit man, I just do what the fuck I'm told that's all." Art 

shrugged his shoulders.



	Tony shook his head. "What the fuck. Okay but you two keep 

the hell outa sight when we make the trade. I don't wanta replay the 

fucking O.K. corral because the grease ball thinks we're setting um up 

or something." He looked around the large, mostly empty room. "Over 

there. Behind those rack's. And stay put unless things go to shit." He 

pointed toward a pair of twelve foot tall wooden storage racks.



	"That's what Eddy wanted." Art responded, not giving Tony 

the satisfaction of feeling like he was in charge. "So when's the deal 

going down?"



	Tony  raised his left wrist and looked down at the face of his 

watch. "About fifteen minutes." He turned toward Willie. "Guess we 

can raise the delivery door, huh."



	Willie nodded then walked toward the back of the warehouse 

where a steel, floor to ceiling accordion truck delivery door was 

located. Willie yanked downward on a chain attached to a pulley and 

the door slowly began to rise. "You two get the fuck outa sight." Tony 

yanked his thumb toward the storage racks. 



	    "It wouldn't bother me one little bit to ice that scum fuck!" 

Art whispered angrily to Louie as both men stepped behind the 

shelving. 



	After several minutes Art slid his .45 automatic out from its 

holster and removed the clip. He inspected  the clip making certain it 

was full, then after replacing it he drew back the gun's slide and 

readied a round into the chamber.



	Louie having watched Art getting his weapon ready followed 

suit and readied his automatic.  His gun however had a round 

previously chambered, and when he pulled back on the slide the shell 

ejected and landed on the concrete giving off a resounding "twing" 

when it hit floor. "Shit!" Louie yelp in a loud whisper scrambling on 

all four's chasing after the rolling bullet.



	"Dip Shit!" Art whispered irritably. Then to relieve his 

frustration he kicked Louie on the ass with the side of his foot. "Get 

the fuck up here!" 



	"Sorry." Louie meekly replied and stood up.



	"Ass hole!" Art whispered as he yanked the gun from Louie's 

fist and chambered a round then handed it back to him. "This is 

cocked and the safety is off, so don't go fucking with it, damn it!"



	"Sorry." Louie said again looking over his automatic and 

feeling dejected.



	"Don't worry boy's, I'll just tell them we got church mice the 

size of fucking Ellis Island around here. Keep the fuck quiet back 

there!" Tony yelled after he heard all the noise.



CHAPTER TWO - Family love



	At the precise moment that her uncle's throat was sliced, the 

thin ear to ear laceration began sprouting crimson gushers of blood 

across Karen's face, neck and breasts. It had happened so quickly her 

brain took several seconds to respond. One minute her uncle was on 

top of her, his face askew with passion brought on by the pleasurable 

act he was performing, then the very next moment his face mirrored a 

look of bewilderment as if he didn't understand or couldn't 

comprehend what had occurred as the thin line under his chin 

streamed his life's force from him. That look of astonishment on his 

face only lasted for a second or two before he slumped forward, 

landing heavily across his niece's body.



	"Aaaaa..... Jesus! God... you killed him!" Karen screamed 

frantically as she scrambled to pull herself out from under her uncles 

bleeding body. The dead weight was more than she was able to lift and 

she became panicked. "Get him off! Get him off! Aaaaa...... Get him 

off!"  She was pushing and thrashing around wildly, becoming more 

and more frantic with every passing second in a futile attempt to free 

herself. Then she felt the body being yanked sideways, and even in her 

current frenzied state Karen was intrigued with the eerie feeling of his 

cock, still ridged even in death, sliding out of her vagina as he was 

rolled off of her.



	Immediately upon feeling relief from the weight pinning her 

down the seventeen year old girl leaped off the bed and stood 

screaming and sobbing looking like something out of a Steven King or 

'Friday the thirteenth' movie. She stood nude, her thin but athletic 

tomboy body, cute snub nose, wide pretty brown eyes, long dark hair, 

small firm breasts and incredibly soft lightly furred slit, completely 

covered in fresh blood. "Ohhh! Ohhh! Jesus! God!...... Ohhh..... Ohhh 

God!" She hysterically shrieked looking down at the body that only 

seconds before had been her uncle.



	Rory stood at the foot of the bed still holding the open straight 

razor in his hand. "Shut up Karen! Jesus! He fucking asked for it!" He 

sounded a lot more in control than he really was. He'd never killed 

anyone before and it was a little unsettling to say the least. "He 

fucking asked for it. Yeah, he asked for it." He repeated.



	Karen managed a little composure and looked over toward 

Rory. "What do you mean he asked for it? Jesus Rory..... You killed 

him!" 



	"Yeah.... Well.... Shit! He was fucking you. What the fuck 

was I supposed to do?" He collected himself a little as well.



	"So he was fucking me! Jesus you didn't have to kill him." 

Karen's head was spinning.



	"Jesus Karen! He's your fucking uncle for Christ sake! Don't 

you think it's a little weird for a uncle to fuck his niece? The Bastard 

got what he deserved." Rory was convincing himself he had done the 

right thing.



	"God Damn it Rory! He's been letting us stay in his trailer 

and all. So he wanted a little. I didn't think that was too much to ask. 

You shouldn't of killed him."



	"Yeah! But he's your fucking uncle..... Christ all mighty!"



	"Okay. Okay, but shit my father'd been fucking me ever since 

I was twelve. I told you about that., and shit, we didn't kill my old 

man before we ran away. Jesus Rory.... Uncle Mark wasn't such a bad 

guy."       



	"Not to you maybe, because he wanted to get into your pants, 

but to me, he was a total ass hole. You saw all the crap he made me do 

around here. Shit! I had to practically beg for fucking air to breath. 

Fuck him! He got what he deserved!"  He was still convincing himself.



	"You didn't have to kill him Rory. I don't know why you 

always get so God damn Postal!" Some of the initial shock had worn 

off and she felt a little angry.



	"Well how do you think I felt! I'm supposed to be your 

boyfriend damn it!" His face became flush with rage. "Don't you think 

I knew every time he sent me into town, or out to the God damn barn 

it was so he could get his cock up your snatch! How do you think I felt, 

knowing he was either fucking you every time he kicked me out of the 

God damn trailer! I'll tell you how it felt! It felt like shit! That's how 

it fucking felt!"



	Karen had never seen Rory quite so upset. His outburst and 

disclosure seemed to minimized the anger she had been feeling. That 

anger, which had been primarily generated out of shock, and not out of 

grief over the loss of her uncle, now turned to concern over loosing 

their meal ticket. She really hadn't even known her uncle all that well, 

him having visited only once in the past when she was very young, 

and not seeing him again until just two week's ago when she and Rory 

had shown up at his farm. He had reluctantly taken them in, but after 

only a few day's it became obvious that he and Rory would never get 

along. He had threatened to toss them out, and Karen used the one 

thing available to her, her body, which she knew was what uncle Mark 

had really wanted all along anyway. After that as long as she kept 

uncle Mark sexually satisfied they had a place to stay, and food in 

their mouths, but now Rory had ended that once and for all.            



	"All right. All right. What's done is done." Karen yanked a 

sheet from the bed and swabbed at the blood covering her body. "But 

right now we need to figure out what we're going to do. You really 

screwed this up Rory."



	"I screwed it up!" He yelled. "He was the one doing all the 

fucking screwing." He pointed toward the body of uncle Mark. "Get 

off my back Karen! Remember I was the one that got you away from 

that pervert dad of yours."



	"If you can call the last two months getting away?" She 

turned the sheet looking for a un-soiled area so she could continue 

wiping blood.. "Ever since you got me away, as you put it, we haven't 

done anything but sleep in bus stations and hitch-hike around the 

country. I don't really call that getting me away Rory. The first real 

roof we'd had over our heads in two months was here, and now you've 

hosed that all up!"



	"You fucken bitch!" He gave her the finger. "You fucken 

begged me to get you away from your God damn father. I fucken told 

you I didn't have any shiten money! But you couldn't stand it at home. 

Anything would be better than this, you told me. Well fuck you! I did 

the best I could!"



	"Don't give me the fucking finger you bastard!" She threw 

the bloody sheet at him. "So far I'm the only one putting anything into 

this adventure! Remember that guy at the Lincoln bus station? I was 

the one that had to suck that slimy bastard's cock for twenty bucks so 

we could eat. Right fucking there in the phone booth! In front of God 

and the world! You didn't have to blow the bastard! I did! Oh but 

wait...... I forget.... You did keep lookout so some cop wouldn't catch 

me on my knees with a stiff cock in my mouth. Oh Yeah! I forgot 

that!" She said in a mock-loving voice, placing her hands over her 

heart and feigning lovesickness.



	"Well shit! I told you I'd roll the bastard. You were the one 

that said it would be safer doing it your way. Shit Karen...," His voice 

took on a much more subdued tone. "...you said you'd sucked  your 

father off so many times that doing that guy would be cake.... Shit. I 

don't know."



	"Okay. Okay. Let's chill out." Karen offered Rory a weak 

smile. "I didn't like having my uncle do me anyway. But, we'd better 

figure out what to do now."



       	"Let's just dump the fucking body and hang out here for a 

while. Shit." Rory suggested.



	"I think not." Karen shook her head. "He'll be missed and the 

cops are bound to come around. If they find us here we're screwed. 

No. I think we ought to grab up as much stuff as we can and take off in 

his truck. We can dump his body down the well, and with the truck 

gone they'll just think he went on vacation or something. Yeah. We'll 

be long gone by the time he's discovered." 



	"Okay by me. What ever. But where the hell can we go?" 

Rory agreed. The impact that he had just killed somebody was sinking 

in and he had become a little complacent.



	"Remember that preacher we've been hearing about all over 

the news, maybe we could hang out with him and his bunch for a little 

while." Karen said thoughtfully remembering all the newscasts.



	"What preacher?" Rory asked.



	"You know, the guy down south. The one performing all 

those miracle faith healing's and crap. Remember it's been on the 

news a hundred times. They said so far nobody's been able to prove 

he's a fake or anything. It really seems like he has some kind of divine 

ability or something. Christ, its been on the news for over a week now, 

you been in a fucking closet or what?" Karen was annoyed because she 

knew Rory must have heard about it.



	"Yeah, yeah. I remember something about it. I Guess I didn't 

pay much attention. That kind of shit don't interest me. But why go 

find him? You don't believe in any of that religious crap or nothing." 

Rory shrugged his shoulders. Church stuff didn't do much for him.



	"Maybe I do believe in that religious crap. How the hell 

would you know what I believe. Jesus! But that's not the point anyway. 

According to the news this guy is building up quite a following, and it 

seems to me we might just be able to disappear in the crowd for a 

while.... that's all. And if they take us in at least it'd be a place to 

hang. It's gota be better than bus stations. Okay by you? Unless you've 

got some better idea." Her last words were spoken with sarcasm.



	"Yeah sure. If you want, okay by me. Fuck it." Rory really 

didn't really care where they went anyway.     



	"Okay." Karen said taking a Marlboro cigarette out of the 

pack from the night stand and lighting up. "While I'm washing up you 

burn all these bloody sheets and stuff in the incinerator. If the cop's 

come inside the trailer I don't want them finding anything." 



	After depositing the body of uncle Mark down the two 

hundred foot well shaft, they searched the trailer but didn't find much 

of value with the exception of one hundred and forty two dollars and 

sixty nine cents, a small amount of groceries, and two rings, which 

they might be sell able.



	Karen and Rory got into uncle Mark's nineteen fifty six Ford 

custom cab pickup and headed south.



CHAPTER THREE - Let's dance



	Art and Louie remained hidden for much longer than the 

scheduled fifteen minutes, and because of the plans to make off with 

the money both of them were starting to get edgy. 



	"What's taking so long Art?' Louie whispered.



	"How the fuck should I know! Maybe the deal's a bust. Fuck I 

don't know! If something don't happen soon I'm fucking lighting up." 

Art whispered back with frustration rolling the unlit smoke between 

his fingers. 



	Just then the well-known sound of an automobile broke the 

silence in the large room as it pulled into the warehouse. The sounds 

of car doors opening, then closing again were heard, then Tony's 

voice. "Yo. Any trouble getting here?"



	A new voice with a rich Italian accent said. "No. No trouble. 

Did you bring the stuff?"



	Tony again. "Willie. Go get the briefcase." There was a short 

pause then Tony continued. "Right here. You got the cash?"



	The Italian voice said. "Anthony!" Then the distinct sound of 

two fingers snapping together could be heard.



	Art dropped the cigarette then squeezed Louie's elbow. "Let's 

dance!" He whispered and stepped out from behind the shelving.

	  

	Art instantly took in the scene. In his line of work you 

couldn't afford the luxury of lengthy scrutinization. The car was a 

large black sedan parked about six feet inside the delivery door. Two 

men, both dressed in dark business suit's stood a few feet in front of 

the car's hood. The taller of two men was thin, with a dark olive 

complexion, and jet black hair combed straight back. The other man 

was heavier set with thinning gray hair, he held a black satchel in his 

left hand. Tony and Willie stood with their back's to Art facing the 

two other men. Tony held a briefcase in his left hand.



	Art's original plan of holding the men at gun point and 

departing with both bag's went to hell-in-a-hand basket the instant he 

exposed himself. The heavy set man upon spotting  Art's automatic 

instantly reached for the revolver tucked in the waistband of his slacks. 



	Tony and Willie being completely unaware that Art and 

Louie had come out of hiding, saw the heavy set man's movement as 

one hostel toward them and both men reached for their weapons. 



	A deafening mussel blast echoed from behind Art and small 

black hole appeared in the forehead of the heavy set man. The .45 

caliber slug from Louie's automatic exited out the back of the heavy 

set man's head taking half of his skull with it, depositing blood, bone 

fragments and brain matter onto the roof and  windshield of the dark 

sedan.



	The thin man yanked a sawed-off 12 gauge shotgun from 

behind his back and  quickly fired a round toward Art and Louie just 

before turning to run toward the back of the large sedan.. The 12 

gauge blast went wide and ripped through Willie's left arm, jaggedly 

severing it at the elbow. Willie collapsed to the concrete gripping at 

the wounded stump while blood splattered wildly from the damaged 

artery.      



	Tony was confused seemingly hearing gun fire coming from 

all around him. He jumped to his left trying to avoid the shotgun, 

while firing several rounds toward the thin man. All of his shots were 

off target, and only shattered the sedan's windshield and sent small 

concrete dust clouds into the air.



 	Just at the moment that Art squeezed the trigger on his 

automatic, firing at the retreating back of the thin man seeking cover, 

was precisely when Tony decided to leap to his left. The bullet 

destined for the thin man ripped into the back of Tony's head, exiting 

with his entire forehead, killing him instantly.



	Louie fired twice more taking down the thin man with two 

well placed shots in-between the shoulder blades. 



	The silence following the gun fire was almost spooky, only 

low agonizing moan's from Willie who was still rolling around on the 

blood covered concrete invaded the quite. Louie kneeled down over 

Willie, then removing his belt, he used it as a tourniquet on Willie's 

forearm. Art in the mean while went about making sure everyone else 

was dead and collecting the deal bag's before lighting a cigarette.



*********************************************************



	The two D.E.A. agents heard the gun fire at exactly the same 

time. "Son-of-a-bitch!" The one looking out the window uttered.



	"Fucking-a. Let's go!" The second agent yelled, yanking his 

revolver out of its holster.



	"I fucking hate it when this un-planned shit happens." The 

first agent shouted to the second as they leaped three steps at a time 

down the stairwell.



	"I'll take the back! You cover the front." The second agent 

called over his shoulder to the first once they hit the street, then he 

sprinted toward the rear of the building. 



	"I'll call for backup!" The first agent shouted, then pulling 

the Motorola two-way from his back pocket he keyed the mike to 

called in. "Sitting Trivalent one.... Sitting Trivalent one... Shots 

fired... I repeat.. Shots fired. Officer needs back up... I repeat ...  Shots 

fired. Officer needs back-up." 	  	



	 

*********************************************************



	If Louie hadn't been kneeling over Willie he would never 

have noticed the D.E.A. agent's attempt at sneaking inside the truck 

entry door then toward the back of the large sedan. But Louie was 

kneeling over Willie,, and he did see him, and without any hesitation 

Louie fired his colt three time's sending three slugs directly into the 

second agent's chest. The department strongly suggested agent's wear 

bullet proof vests even when on stakeouts, but that was a suggestion 

most agent's elected to ignore and the second agent was thrown 

backward several feet with the impact of the heavy rounds, and was 

dead even before he hit the ground.



	"What the.....!" Art dropped down onto one knee swinging 

his gun from right to left.



	"I guess there was another one." Louie told Art. "He was 

trying to take cover behind the car."



	"Are there any more?" Art asked keeping the automatic in the 

ready position.



	"Don't know." Louie answered. "Guess there could be. That 

one came from outside." 

	

	Art got up and stubbed the cigarette out with his toe before he 

made his way to the truck doorway. With extreme caution he looked 

up and down the roadway outside the building. It was clear in both 

directions with very little available for anybody to hide behind. "Looks 

clear to me. Grab the bag's and let's get the hell outa here." He told 

Louie.



	"What about Willie?" Louie asked.



	"Nothing we can do about him. Come on let's skip out the 

back and walk around. If anybody reported hearing gun shots the heat 

will be here any minute." Art waved Louie to follow him.



	Just as they approached the Cadillac the first D.E.A. agent 

having found the front door locked and having heard additional gun 

shots was running toward the back of the building when he spotted  

Art and Louie. He was still several feet away from the Cadillac and 

having nothing available for cover he did the only thing possible. 

"DEA! Drop your weapons! Now! Your under arrest!" He tried to yell 

with authority in his voice.



	Art fired his automatic hitting the agent in the ribcage with 

his first shot and missing with the next two. The agent was twisted 

sideways then slammed into the side of the brick building. He slumped 

down  and just before un-conscienceness from shock overtook him he 

thought. "I fucking knew I hated  this un-planned shit when it 

happens."



	"Let's go!" Art yelled to Louie as he bolted around the Caddie 

and slipped into the drivers seat.



	Louie opened the rear door and threw both bag's onto the 

back seat, then he climbed into the passenger seat just as Art screeched 

the front tires and pulled away from the curb.



	"Where we going Art?" Louie asked after they settled into the 

normal flow of traffic.



	"Texas." Art answered.



	"Texas?" Louie asked it like a question.



	"Yeah Texas." Art said nodding his head. "I heard they got 

some big time hospitals and doctors in Texas. Maybe they can do 

something about this." He indicated his cancerous stomach area, then 

lit up a Lucky and enjoyed the first peaceful smoke he'd had in hour's. 



END CHAPTER THREE