????????The Chinaman walked through the swinging doors of the kitchen, surveying the crowd. ?The calm hum of conversation meant that he could take a break. ?He sauntered over to the end of the bar. ?By the time he got there, Nyla had poured him a mug of hot water for his green tea.
?????????The pace, nice today,? he smiled. ??Thank you.? He bowed his head slightly. ?The both of them stood there regarding the crowd absently. ??Seen Bandit?? ? He spoke to Nyla familiarly but kept his eyes on the crowd.
?????????You?re the second person who?s asked me that in the last hour. ? Not since last weekend. ?I talked to him on the phone though.?
?????????I no see him, either. ?Funny. ?Fridays I make curried rice bowl just for him, spicy. He okay, you think??
?????????Maybe he’s dealing with those young punks who tried to shoot up the place. ?The Tong characters,? Nyla said. ?
????????Yes, I know. I hear.?
????????Nyla sensed there was more to the story, that the Chinaman and Bandit were dealing with something or someone big. The Chinaman never looked in her eyes. She couldn’t tell what was going on. ?
???????Just as Nyla was about to ask the Chinaman for more details, Mandy came up with a wry smile. ??Guess who got a big tip? They’re back.?
?????????Give me a second, I?m kind of slow,? Nyla shot back sarcastically. ?Okay, I?ll play along. ?Who gave you the big tip?? ?
????????Those two in the far booth. ?Chinese import/export guys. ?New to the area,? Mandy said curtly. ??They wanted to know all about the harbor, the guys that come in here, the bar and Bandit. One was one of the guys from the other night.?
?????????What did you tell them?,? Nyla shot back, concerned. ?Her eyes darted around the bar trying to spot the men. ?Where did you say they were??
?????????I didn’t tell them a thing,? Mandy said casually, pointing to an empty booth next to the door. ?They left,? she said, her eyes darting around the room, making a thorough search.
????????Nyla, her bounciness gone, moved to the phone at the back of the bar. The Chinaman turned and walked slowly toward the steamy kitchen. He slipped past the deep sink, the food preparation area, a traffic jam of stainless steel, and past the cold storage cabinents. There was a small yellowed window covered with a grate at the back of the galley. He twisted the handle, opening the iron window. A rented black compact spun to life as the two Asians got in the back seat. The Chinaman noted the license plate number and quietly closed the window. ?
???????Back at the bar, Mandy watched the sedan scoot out of the parking lot from a slit in the thick solid oak front door, the Mac 10 resting easily in her right hand. She almost froze the other night. It wouldn’t happen again. Something was brewing. She signaled to Nyla to not make the hotline call.
Nyla put the receiver down softly. Her hands were alabaster and held everything the way a silk pillow holds a woman’s head. She was bubbly, with a soft touch. Mandy turned toward her and said, “But it’s nice when Bandit’s around.” ?
