Memory.Panic surged like an enraged beast tearing at its cage. Fighting to still his nerves, he forced himself to reason. He had to get to the control..., find out what had happened. He pushed from the bulkhead, correcting off the doorway into the pilot's cabin, using his good right arm to stop himself against the acceleration couch.As he strapped in, his stomach rebelled, forcing him to snatch a puke bag and bring it to his mouth — nothing but dry heaves. That was the vile smell his dazed mind. “I admire your loyalty to your client, Gafferson. Too bad it could get you a cell block for life.” “I’ll have to take my chances. My client couldn’t vouch for my whereabouts when Metzger was iced.” “Where were you last night?” “Home.” “Got any proof?” Yeah, he had proof – wrapped up in a pretty nurse’s package, but Moe had already made the decision to keep Mona out of this mess. He stayed mute, again. Jansen barged ahead without waiting for answers. “You own a gun, Gafferson? Maybe one of those. More

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