Pool_1

own grimace of ineptitude intensified by cutting finger pain from a poorly handled garrat, this vile man was getting redder in the face than his victim. His left eye was like a boxer's with a badly managed cut. Through all of this this, the smug wallet bearer just nodded with snorting half laughs of condescending disapproval until - over the continuing gurgling rasping protest - he heard a clear, "OK, Mick. You do it." And so Mick did, telling his accomplice to stick to computers. "Putz... Now, the girl. Lose this guy. Follow me in his car."