Pool_1

"That's is a job for security," Seth jumped in. "If security.." The entire table bellowed, "Fuck IF." They all knew the politics and how hopeless it was to get city or city run hospital security at all, not to mention, of any reliability. Seth regrouped, "Com'on, you don't all carry guns," to which they, in sequence, all asserted that, to that place, they sure as hell did. "Seth," Mary Richards tapped him on the shoulder and warned, "devils live there. They kill to make points with their friends. I know for a fact that one of those murders, which - by the way - left two babies without a father, was done as an initiation ritual for the Ninto's drug gang. If you see one of those wild eyed orange scarfed bastards walking toward you, you just point your gun at his head and count his steps out loud - backward from five." "Mary? You?" Seth gasped, "You own a gun? You're a lady of God, I thought." "And I plan to stay one, Seth. God gave Archangel Michael a sword and me this trigger finger. I bought the armor piercing bullets of Je-zuzzz," with a Mosaic arm sweeping flourish. It felt good to be with the consensus of the table, for a change, and so she animated and went well beyond her usual fenced in phraseology. "Those naughty boys won't hide behind any cars if they mess with me. I'll Christen them with hell fire," dazing Seth into head shaking silence. Osten stared at Macaluso, expectantly. It seemed like a classic Macaluso muttering moment. "Don't look at me," Marcus fended off involvement, "I'm not into guns. But I don't go to that place either. Heard it's bad, so, I don't know." Shannon usually stayed out of hardware debates. Guns, computers, pickup trucks, hobby TIG welding, she didn't like to venture into debate hinging on anything she hadn't actually done, seen or, been part of. But here, she did speculate, "I guess the issue is