“Hi, honey! You on your way home?” Susan held the telephone with the crook of her neck as she placed some family pictures on the dresser in her bedroom. A portrait of Danny in his red tunic looked particularly handsome.

“Sorry, babe, not yet. I’m stuck in some fleabag of a bar watching my new partner drink beer and chat with some hooker.”

“What are you doing in a place like that?”

“Good question. Everyone in here is a degenerate. My so-called partner seems to be having fun. How’s Tiffany?”

“She’s asleep. Listen, I got the bed put together, but can’t find the nuts to the bolts.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve got my own nuts.”

Susan snickered and then said, “But what about me? I don’t have any.”

“You can use mine whenever you want. Don’t wait up. Love ya!”

Spider didn’t take his eyes off Jack as he put the syringe down on the edge of the sink before searching him. He started at Jack’s neck and worked his way down to his feet. He took his time and wasn’t bashful. He found a hunting knife tucked in the top of Jack’s boot.

Spider pulled out the knife. “What’s this?”

“I ain’t in the business of lettin’ people rip me off!”

Spider smiled, then looked at his two companions and said, “Okay, let ’im go.”

“So what the hell was that all about?” said Jack in a voice he hoped sounded convincing.

“Just makin’ sure you’re not the heat.”

“This is fuckin’ bullshit, man! I’m no more the heat than you are!”

“Yeah, well, it pays to be careful. Don’t take it personal. Go wait by the pool tables. Should be along in about half an hour.”

“Give me my blade back!”

Spider pointed the knife at Jack’s eye and used the tip of the blade to flick his eyelashes. Jack slowly reached for the knife. Spider relinquished his grip and Jack shoved the knife back in his boot. He slammed the door as he left, then walked to the rear of the tavern.

Spider left the men’s room and went directly to Red. He whispered to her and then returned to his table. The two junkies came out a minute later and left the bar. They had just been given their fix for the night. He noticed Danny return to his seat.

Jack chalked his name on a board to play pool. His legs felt weak and he stood with his hands in his pockets, hoping nobody would notice him shaking. Red went to the lobby but returned a few minutes later.

Ten minutes later, Jack saw Danny get up and go to the men’s room. A scrawny junkie at a nearby table gave Danny a long, hard look, and then followed him. Jack hoped his frustration didn’t show. Now what? Blow my cover for some jerk I told to stay in the car? Goddamn him!

Danny stood at the urinal. He heard someone come in behind him but didn’t look up. The junkie took a buck knife out of his pocket and opened the blade. He partially hid the knife beside his leg as he crept up behind Danny.

The pain was instant. Danny briefly lost consciousness when the butt end of the knife slammed hard into the side of his skull. He crashed into the wall and his knees buckled as he slid face-first down the urinal. The junkie grabbed his hair and smashed his face into the drain.

Danny’s teeth cut his tongue and he could taste the blood as it ran down the back of his throat. The deodorizer cake in the bottom of the urinal stung his eyes and lips. His left hand was partially pinned under his face, and the junkie held his other wrist high up his back. He felt the sharp edge of the knife on his throat and froze.

“You so much as whisper or blink a fuckin’ eyeball and I’ll slash yer fuckin’ throat!”

For a strange moment, Danny didn’t feel fear or panic. A sorrowful calm seeped across his brain. There is nothing I can do. I am not in control of my life — he is. In a moment he’ll find my badge and then I’ll die. I’ll never see Susan or Tiffany again. It’s so sad….

The door to the men’s room opened and he cocked his head and saw Jack. Both Danny and the junkie stared at Jack, who sauntered up to the urinal next to them. Danny heard him unzip and then softly whistle.

The junkie kneed Danny between the shoulder blades, pinning his face harder into the bottom of the urinal. He felt the junkie’s hand slide his wallet from his pocket. Son of a bitch! He’s not going to help me! I’m going to die in here like this! Panic replaced sorrow.

Jack eyed the situation. How do I help without blowing my cover? Then he spotted Danny’s ring. If the junkie wanted it, he’d have to release Danny’s arm.

“Missed his wedding ring,” Jack said, trying to sound casual.

Danny saw the blood and water trickling across his gold wedding ring.

“Yeah. Gimme yer fuckin’ ring!”

Danny raised his left hand above his head. The junkie released his grip on his wrist and reached for the ring. It was the chance Danny needed. He uttered a panicked squeal while grabbing the knife by the blade. The sharp steel cut through his flesh while he started bashing the junkie’s wrist against the ceramic side of the urinal. He drove a sharp elbow into the junkie’s ribs and the knife clattered into the bottom of the urinal.

Both men were in a frenzied struggle for the knife. Danny’s brain didn’t register Jack yell, “Hey! You made me piss on my leg!” Nor was he aware that Jack then kicked the junkie in the head, knocking him off balance. Danny grabbed the knife as the junkie turned to scramble away. Within a heartbeat, Danny buried the knife into the junkie’s back — and then recoiled in horror.

A different panic swept over him when he realized what he had done. The junkie staggered to his feet and tried to reach the knife protruding from under his shoulder blade.

“Here, let me help you with that,” said Jack, while zipping up his pants. He pulled the knife out and added, “You better split, man, before this guy finishes you off!”

The junkie flopped against the door, opened it, and hurried out.

Danny sat on the floor, gawking at his bleeding hand while Jack rinsed the knife in the sink. Neither spoke as Jack cut off half of Danny’s shirtsleeve and tied the cloth around his hand. Jack handed him the knife.

“Stabbing someone in the back. Is that what they’re teaching at the academy these days?”

Danny’s mouth hung open as he stared at Jack in both shock and disbelief. “We’ve got to report this. That guy could die! We can’t just —”

“Forget that! You’re a cop. You’d end up in jail. Only citizens are allowed to panic.”

“But what if he dies? You can’t —”

“He won’t die. A shoulder isn’t what you would call a vital organ. If you wanted to kill him, you should have gone for his carotid artery.”

Danny looked down at the blood seeping through the cloth on his hand. “I need stitches.”

“You’ll need a few. There’s a clinic about five blocks away. But not now.”

“What do you mean, not now?” said Danny, as a combination of fear and anger crept back into his voice. “I’m bleeding.”

“I need fifteen or twenty minutes. You can hold off that long. I obviously didn’t make myself clear when I told you to wait in the car, so let me explain it to you in your language.”

“Huh?”

“The gentleman I was sitting with is lining me up with an ounce of speed. He goes by the name of Spider. A tattooed lady of questionable character is involved. She has long red hair and goes by the name of Red. I want you to watch and see if you can figure out the action.”

“Walk out like nothing happened?”

“Yes. This place is not all that genteel. An extra set of eyes might help.”

“So now you decide to follow policy?” said Danny harshly.

“Forget about policy. You need to learn the rules … to be educated.”

“What rules? What are you talking about? Educated about what?”

“For tonight, two simple things. Lesson one, leave your attitude behind. You look like you think you’re better than everybody else.”