Saul’s fate always felt inescapable—like a hand came out of the sky and set him on a path at birth.

“Take this filth out of here,” said the bouncer. “Mr. Marconi is done with him.”

Two other men had Saul by the shoulders, lifting him just high enough that his feet couldn’t reach the ground. Through the red tinted hallway, up the steps, and thrown onto the curb. Something seemed to crack when they tossed him.

His eyes stared at the stars, the beeps of taxicabs and the steps of the street crowd washing over him like the ebbing of waves pulled by the moon—which was bright tonight.

He stood up, bushed his suit coat off, and walked down the street to the park. He found a park bench to lie down on and said, “What is above me but an oak tree. A nest with birds. Man, I wish I had a nest, but no… I’m a dumb one.” He pulled the wallets of the men who carried him out of the bar.

Drivers licenses, credit cards, change, a couple hundred dollars, and key cards.

Jackpot.

Looting was a bit beneath him, but he figured there was no reason he shouldn’t. He waited a couple of hours, the moon moving in the sky until it was close to the horizon. He went back to the bar’s building, taking the alleyway along the back. The double doors into the place had a place to scan the key cards. One was good enough.

Inside, he made his way in silhouette through a company of ladies dressed in bathing towels, bras and panties. He looked down a hallway at the end of the girls going to and fro, getting ready for the next show. He chuckled to himself. Place must serve an interesting breakfast.

Down that hallway, he saw a guard sleeping by Marconi’s door.

He headed down the hallway and stared at the guard. A pistol at his hip, but no other recognizable weapons. He drew the pistol, opened the door, and saw the man lying on the couch of the officer room, passed out next to a bottle of tequila. He closed and locked the door behind him.

The tequila bottle was half full. He picked it up and poured it over Marconi, who woke shouting, “Jesus Christ! Oh! Saul! Guards! Guards!”

Saul put the gun nozzle between his eyes. “You really need to hire a new guard.”

“He dead?”

“Sleeping on the job.”

Marconi laughed. “You got me good. We call it even?”

“Not even close. I need her free.”

“Common, be reasonable.”

“I passed reason at the door.” He aimed the gun at the desk, fired, then pointed it back at Marconi.

“Okay! Okay! Free!”

“Your word? Not good enough. I need insurance.” He walked over to Marconi’s desk and grabbed a laptop. “I’m guessing you’ve got something on here you’d rather someone not see. Hear this. I can get to you any time I need to.”

Marconi just bowed his head. “Just shoot me then.” When he looked up, Saul had gone.

Outside the building, Saul wandered out the front and tapped the bouncers on their shoulders. “These belong to you two. You dropped them when you dropped me.” He kept walking and then burst into a run as he heard the two guys behind him. Honesty always had a price.