[ If one Devil of Hell's Kitchen was something to contend with, then two was more than enough for this, right? This was stupid and reckless and it threatened that very fragile existence of theirs in more way than one. So much hinged on this. So much could go wrong.

It had to go right, then. They had to get out of New York. He has the old eskrima sticks that were left behind for them. They aren't as brutal as the ones made by Melvin, or as far-reaching with the extras now added, but they did what Mike needed. His fists and feet handled the rest. ]

I couldn't sit it out. You need me to make this work. Besides, I've already been further north than 116th. It's time you beat me, huh?