Quick Fixes: Tales of Repairman Jack Read Free

the grate at the bottom.
    “ Hey, Tone!” Rafe said, looking up and grinning. “I got a great idea!”
    *
    Jack pounded along the second floor hallway. He double timed down the flight of stairs to the lobby, sprinted across the carpet tiles that spelled out “The Lucky Hotel” in bright yellow on dark blue, and pushed through the smudged glass doors of the entrance. One of the letters on the neon sign above the door was out. The ucky Hotel flashed fitfully in hot red.
    Jack leaped down the three front steps and hit the pavement running. Half a block to the left, then another left down an alley, leaping puddles and dodging garbage cans until he came to the rear of the Highwater Diner. He had his key ready and shoved it into the deadbolt on the delivery door. He paused there long enough to draw his .45 automatic, a Colt Mark IV, and to stretch the knitted cap down over his face. It then became a Halloween decorated ski mask, and he was looking out through a bright orange jack o lantern. He pulled the door open and slipped into the storage area at the rear of the kitchen.
    Up ahead he heard the sound of a scuffle, and George’s terrified voice crying, “No, don’t! Please don’t!”
    He rounded the corner of the meat locker and found Tony and Rafe – he’d know those Mohicans anywhere – from Reilly’s gang forcing George’s hand into a meat grinder and George struggling like all hell to keep it out. But he was losing the battle. His fingers would soon be sausage meat.
    Jack was just reaching for the slide on his automatic when he spotted a meat-tenderizing hammer on a nearby counter. He picked it up and hefted it. Heavy – a good three pounds, most of it in the steel head. Pocketing the pistol, he stepped over to the trio and began a sidearm swing toward Tony’s skull.
    “ Tony! Trick or treat!”
    Tony looked up just in time to stop the full weight of the waffle-faced hammer head with the center of his face. It made a noise like smoonch! as it buried itself in his nose. He was half way to the floor before Rafe even noticed.
    “ Tone?”
    Jack didn’t wait for him to look up. He used the hammer to crunch a wide part in the center of Rafe’s blue Mohican. Rafe joined Tony on the floor.
    “ God, am I glad to see you!” George said, gasping and fondling his fingers as if to reassure himself that they were all there. “What took you so long?”
    “ Can’t’ve been more than two minutes,” Jack said, slipping the handle of the hammer through his belt and pulling the automatic again.
    “ Seemed like a year! ”
    “ The rest of them out front?”
    “ Just three – Reilly, the skinhead, and Reece.”
    Jack paused. “Where’s the rest of them?”
    “ Don’t know.”
    Jack thought he knew. The other three had probably been on that rooftop trying to plug him in his hotel room. But how had they found him? He hadn’t even told George about staying at the Lucky.
    One way to find out...
    “ Okay. You lock the back door and stay here. I’ll take care of the rest.”
    “ There’s a girl out there–” George said.
    Jack nodded. “I’m on my way.”
    He turned and almost bumped into Reilly coming through the swinging doors from the front. He was counting the fistful of cash in his hands.
    “ How we doin’ back–?” Reilly said and then froze when the muzzle of Jack’s automatic jammed up under his chin.
    “ Happy Halloween,” Jack said.
    “ Shit! You again!”
    “ Right, Matt, old boy. Me again. And I see you’ve made my collection for me. How thoughtful. You can shove it in my left pocket.”
    Reilly’s face was white with rage as he glanced over to where Tony writhed on the floor next to the unconscious Rafe.
    “ You’re a dead man, pal. Worse than dead!”
    Jack smiled through the ski mask and increased the pressure of the barrel on Reilly’s throat.
    “ Just do as you’re told.”
    “ What’s with you and these masks, anyway?” he said as he stuffed the money into Jack’s