The Bumper Bar. He didn’t know why Decker chose this place, but he shrugged his shoulders and headed inside. A young Filipina met him at the door, taking hold of his right arm and guiding him inside the club. She wore a black sleeveless dress falling mid-thigh and her hair was tied in a knot on top of her head with a red chopstick holding it in place. The hostess greeted him with a smile. “Good evening, sir. You like table?” Hack looked over the crowded room. “I’m waiting for a friend. He should be here by now.” “How he look?” the girl asked. Hack saw the crowd of sailors in the bar and didn’t know how to distinguish Decker. “I’ll take a table if one’s available,” he said. “I’ll look around for him.” The girl took hold of Hack’s hand and led him to a table in the middle of the room. “I get you beer,” she said, turning to speak to a waitress. Hack sat sipping his beer for the next few minutes, adjusting to the crowd and noise.
