[b]Center City, WA 12:21 AM[/b] Linda Flynn and her girlfriends walked down the sidewalk on unsteady feet. The group of four girls swayed and bobbed on their big high heels, clinging to each other as they walked. All four wore expensive and tight cocktail dresses and heels that were just a bit too big for them. They didn't care how gaudy they looked. They were young, they were rich, and they wanted the whole damn world to know it. "Denise, you are such a slut," one of them said in a drunken slur. The rest of the pack broke out into a fit of giggles. "You're the slut," Denise countered. "I saw you with that guy, just grinding on him. He looked so fucking ugly! You're such a slut." The girls looked up at the sound of a roaring engine. A large black van raced down the road and skidded to a stop beside them. Two men in balaclavas jumped out with pistols in their hands. The girls let out screams of horror as the two gunmen zeroed in on just one of them. They took Linda roughly by the shoulders and shoved her into the van. The three remaining girls tried to reach out to their friend, but were pushed back by the kidnapper. He aimed his gun at them and put a finger to his lip. "Tell her father, we'll be in touch," the masked men said. "Tell him if he goes to the cops, she fucking dies." The two men jumped into the van, slammed the door shut, and the van peeled off into the night, leaving the drunk and hysterical young women to cry and panic for their kidnapped friend. -- [b]4:48 AM[/b] It was the middle of the night, but Tracy Lawless was wide awake. He sat on the edge of the bed, smoking a cigarette and staring through the darkness at the city outside. Sleep was something he no longer seemed to need much of. Years in the military had taught him how little he actually needed to function. No more than five hours a night and he was good until another twenty-four hours. The woman in his bed stirred and he looked back at her. Gennelle was her name, or at least her stage name. She was one of the strippers at the club he managed for Hyde. It was stupid, taking her home that night after they closed... but Tracy's base biological functions had been gnawing at him for the past few weeks. He needed to clear the works out, so to speak, and Gennelle with her long legs and rich coffee colored skin was just what he needed. He should have just went to a bar and picked a woman up, or even better bought a call girl for the night. Sleeping with one of the girls would no doubt cause some sort of trouble back at the club. The cell phone on the dresser across the room rattled as it vibrated. Tracy stood and padded towards it. A blocked number was calling. "Yeah," he said softly. "It's me." The voice on the other end was recognizable enough. John Galston, some lawyer type Hyde just recently started to use as a go-between for him and all the people he dealt with. It made Tracy wonder why he set up the stop-gap. Maybe he was getting paranoid in his old age? "He needs some work done," said Galston. "Get to his office right now." "Okay. I'll be there." Tracy hung up without another word. He walked towards his closet and started to dress. When he was done, he took a key off his ring and placed it on the nightstand beside the sleeping woman. He left her a note, asking to lock up after she left. Tracy tucked his piece, a Smith & Wesson compact .40, into the shoulder rig he wore under his coat and left out of the apartment before the morning son had a chance to creep up over the horizon. -- [b]6:02 AM[/b] To look at Sebastian Hyde's office, you would think he was a college professor or some well to do businessman instead of the kingpin of Center City. There were books, shelves and shelves of books on the three office walls. The lone wall not loaded down with books had an entire long pane of glass that stretched across the wall in a window that gave off a pretty impressive view of Center City. The books were all random as hell. Everything from Gibbon's six-part series on the history of Rome to Danielle Steel. Tracy doubted very much that Hyde had even cracked open one of those books in his library. The man didn't care about books, and he didn't care about his impressive view. The books and window were all a show to anyone who came into the office. It was projecting power. Look at how many nice things I have, it said, look at the entire town that I sit above like a king. All of that boiled down to a simple message: Do not fuck with me. "Tracy," Hyde said as he came in. Tracy stood and wordlessly greeted the old man as he walked towards his desk. Hyde wasn't in his usual three-piece, but he still wore dark slacks and a collared shirt. Tracy remained standing until Hyde sat down behind the desk. "It's late, let's skip the usual bullshit, son. Do you know Thomas Flynn?" "Rings a bell. Does he owe you money?" "No, unfortunately not. Flynn owns a good deal of the industrial park here in town. Supposed to be worth half a billion. He keeps his nose mostly clean, as clean as anyone worth that kind of money can be. Early this morning, his daughter Linda was kidnapped by some masked men. They called the house a few hours ago, demanding five million dollars for her safe return. They also demanded no cops be involved. Flynn wants security and he's afraid to go to the police... so he came to me. For a nominal fee, I'm guaranteeing her safe return. For a cut of that fee, you'll provide the service." Hyde working for money didn't jive true to Tracy. He had more than enough money than he or his kids would ever spend. But what was left unsaid Tracy knew all too well. Flynn was asking Sebastian Hyde for a favor. All it took was for Hyde to get his foot into the door and he owned you. Flynn thought it was a simple transaction, money for goods and services, but it would be so much more than that. For Hyde to get in good with a man like Flynn would give him something much more valuable than money. Flynn got you connections, contracts, businessmen, and politicians. Influence, a half a billion dollar's worth of influence Hyde could call on. "Do I just watch over the deal, make sure it goes down smoothly?" "Very much so. And when the deal is over, it is expected you find the kidnappers and liquidate them. These cocksuckers are operating with impunity in my city, son. I will not let that stand." "And the money from the ransom?" The old man's eyes lit up and his eyebrows arched as he smiled. "You know how it is, son. Things sometimes go missing. If Flynn can't recover that money, it's a small price to pay for the safety of his family." Message received. Tracy nodded and stood, heading towards the door. He hated when Hyde called him son. He made a mental note that when he got his revenge on the old prick, he would hit him in the balls for every time the old man had called him his son. After tonight, Tracy's count was up to 219.