Silent Weapons for Quiet Wars by Cody Goodfellow

Author:Cody Goodfellow [Goodfellow, Cody]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Bizarro, Fantasy, Horror, Science Fiction, General
ISBN: 9781933929026
Google: 3nP6QQAACAAJ
Amazon: 1933929022
Publisher: Swallowdown Press
Published: 2009-10-14T11:00:00+00:00

If you were a recreational gambler who paid his debts and stayed out of the cutthroat card rooms on the east side of town, chances are you would never breathe the same air as Dr. Kwak. Nobody who formally met Dr. Kwak wanted to talk about it.

But it was not always thus. He was once a respectable man. A real doctor, before he came to the States. Imagine emigrating from Korea to practice medicine in America, only to find out your name phonetically told people you were a fraud and a cheat. Pride would not let him change his name, and he soon found another use for his talents. He certainly knew his way around the human body, anyway. The first time he shook hands with Leo, he deftly broke two of his fingers right out on the casino floor. He leaned into his ear and whispered, “Our money. One week. And you never play here, anymore.”

That was three weeks ago.

What kind of crazy bullshit was this? Who took hostages to settle a gambling debt?

Leo got off the bus on the frontage road for Interstate 5. The Industry Casino was open 24 hours a day, but the parking lot was almost empty. Tony had repainted and put in new carpet, so the lifers were spooked.

Leo knew it was risky, but he needed all the luck he could get, so he snuck into the bushes beside the overpass and took off his pants, then his boxer shorts, turned them inside out, and put them back on backwards. If he was right about who and what waited inside, then nothing he could do would matter. To put to rights the imbalance they represented would cost more than everybody involved was worth.

Funny thing was, Tony Sherpa used to be the most generous loan shark in town. Even after he took over the Industry, he would still carry a guy way longer and higher than any mob-bonded bank would. He respected the tidal flow of luck, and all the rich diversity of life that thrived on its fickle bounty. Somebody put a bug up his ass. He might have known, even before he picked up the phone, who it was. He could hear her breathing, sucking the luck out of him through the connection.

The Three Lees worked the front door, but Leo would never go near it, anyway. A Buddhist monk blessed the entrance when it reopened. Good luck and prosperity—for the house.

The back entrance was usually watched by a uniformed rent-a-cop, but Dr. Kwak himself waited for Leo as he came ambling up, shuffling to nurse a sole which had come unglued.

“Dr. Kwak. I’m no Freudian, but a cigar never looked quite so much like a huge black man’s penis, as it does in your mouth.”

Kwak pursed his lips and waved Leo into the casino, but he crushed out the fat Macanudo in the nearest ashtray. As he did so, he chanced to brush the front of Leo’s trousers with the back of one nimble hand.

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