From: Lester <maxim@netcom.com>
Date: Wed, 29 Oct 1997 09:46:26 -0800 (PST)
Subject: Logo Fyles #12
Message-id: <Pine.3.89.9710290919.A14901-0100000@netcom15>
Dear Cole,The name on the medallion was Vigia Vettura. "You can stop right here, Vigia, I just remembered something," he said. She sped up instead, screeched around a corner. Brond was thrown heavily against the left door. The driver preaced the brakes, pranged into a parked car, got out and ran.Mix the cheap K.B. with the street kind. Cops taking no crap. All the same, Sergeant Pepper will train tiger with singsong. Actress to check Trollop books tonight. Send card.
-- C.A.B. Terminate.
Brond was devveled against the front seat, momentarily totty. He shook it off, took his walise, and rolled out the door. The saloon that he'd guessed was following them came speeding around the corner and stopped short, alongside the smashed taxi.
Brond ran toward the passenger side, and threw his body against the opening door, jamming it against the scaphoid of the chacma who had begun to get out. Chacma's gun dropped into the street. Brond took it and waved it at the driver, who had started to come around the car. That keelie quickly decided this wasn't his fight, turned, ran around the corner and was gone.
Brond pulled chacma out of the car. "Tell your friends that other people study Y hooks," he said, and gave him a boko full of dorlach.
Passersby who had noticed the fracas picked up their pace. Brond casually got into the idling car. He adjusted the seat for his long legs, and drove to the terminal.