Chapter I

"Anythin' happen taday?" Jack sat down in a chair in the lobby across from Race and Specs. Specs shot a sideways glance at Race and spoke.

"Well, Jake got in a fight wit one 'a Wick's guys taday," Specs answered. "We gotta keep an eye out fer Queens now too."

"Shit," Jack said with a sigh, rubbing his temples. "Is Jake awlright?"

"He's fine," Specs answered.

"Dis is really getting' dangerous."

"Yeah, but 'e got da bettah 'a da guy," Race said almost proudly. "No doubt dey'll be back soon, dough. We'll get 'em back. Dey'll be afraid ta come ta Manhattan aftah dat."

Jack leaned forwards and raised a hand. "Now wait jist a minute. I don' want ya ta get outta hand heah." Race sat back against his chair to control himself. "We can't jist go 'round and 'get 'em back,' Race. We gotta think heah."

"I doubt dey'll wanna fight us. I'se shoah dey'se as sick 'a dis as we are," Specs offered level-headedly. "Maybe we should do somethin' ta make peace instead 'a fightin' 'em."

"Nah, we gotta get 'em back. Eye fer an eye, kid," Race's eyes began to flicker with anger at the situation, and his tone of voice reflected it.

"Race, dis is bad enough as it is. If we strike back, dey will too. We awlready had Brooklyn against us, and now Queens too. Let's not make it woise," Jack tried to calm him down more. He was like Manhattan's voice of reason. He'd managed to mature to the point of not wanting to retaliate. Race simply snorted a bit and rolled his eyes.

At that, the three of them heard the door open. "Hello?" came a warm female voice.

"Rebecca!" Race said and jumped up. A thin, short, brown haired girl with green eyes turned the corner. The apron on her waitress uniform was smeared with wet handprints. Skittery followed her into the lodging house. Race barely acknowledged him, giving a slight nod of the head. Skittery returned the gesture coldly. Race gave Rebecca a friendly hug and smiled at her.

"Skittery was jist walkin' me home aftah woik," she explained with a smile, taking his hand. "I jist stopped ta say hello. I'd love ta stay. It's getting' late dough, and I gotta get back tad a goils' bunkhouse. I'll see ya soon, dough!"

"Awlright, be careful," Race said, then turned his attention to Skittery. "You be careful too. Don' let 'er get hoit."

Skittery gave a bitter nod and started to lead Rebecca off. She waved at them with a smile. Race stood in the doorway and watched them disappear down the street.

"Dat couple unsettles me," Specs said to Jack quietly. "Race is 'er best friend. She's known 'im fer a real lawng time. He hates Skittery, dough. He awlways has. It kinda makes me noivous. Y'know how Race can be."

"Yeah, I do know how Race can be," Jack said. "But Skittery ain't exactly da sweetest guy eiddah. She should be fine." He sat up again. "So whaddaya think?"

"About what?"

"About da matin' habits of salmon," he said sarcastically. "Da whole situation we got heah. Y'know, wit the tree heads."

"Oh, dat?" Specs sat up straighter and cleared his throat. "I think we need ta do moah ta make peace, not fight."

"Specs, we been tryin'."

"Well, we gotta do moah den."