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