Cross told the others, now including Tracker, who had entered soundlessly. He was crouched next to the Akita, whispering in some language none of the others recognized. The Akita responded by lying down. Tracker scratched the beast behind one ear. Princess glowed with pride—all his hard work spent on socializing with Sweetie was clearly on display. “We get paid by both of them? How are we going to sell that one, boss?” “I’ll handle the conversations. We need two shooters, which we’ve got, one distraction”—nodding his head in Tiger’s direction—“and maybe some muscle … I’m not sure about that part, yet.” “Who am I supposed to distract?” Tiger said, midway between happy at being included and annoyed with her assigned role. “Costanza. At the Double-X.” “You want me to dance every night until he shows up? You must be out of your—” “We’ll know when he’s coming.” “Is that supposed to be funny?” “Give it a rest, okay?” Tiger sat down on the crate that the ever-gentlemanly Rhino had quickly dusted off for her.
