Jason folded the cotton square and hung it back on the peg. The galvanized surface sat clean, grease smears gone, the metal chilled under the garage's bare bulb. He spoke just over the radio hum. "The yard arcs; I need to map them before Thursday. How much time do I actually have?" Cutter kept his head down. The socket wrench turned, stopped, turned again, working something loose under the primary drive. Dark motor oil ran across both forearms, his heavy work boots planted flat on the shop floor. "Victor's sending you out tomorrow. Boulevard Corridor. Collections." Jason kept his palm flat on the board. "Protection money?" "All of it; full block." Cutter pulled the wrench free and let it rest on his chest, staring straight into the dark undercarriage. "He's never run it this way before. Al
