Camden
After my swim, I go to shower and spend some time in my room, making calls. Angelo is my first call, since he’s nearby.
“Camden, what’s up?” he answers, sounding out of breath.
“Are you busy?” I ask him, and he scoffs.
“There’s been nothing going on for weeks,” he complains. “I’m bored out of my mind.”
“Good to hear,” I mumble, “because I’ve got something really exciting coming up.”
“Oh, do tell,” he says brightly.
Angelo is a bit of a loose cannon, but everyone knows he gets the job done.
“Marco Barone,” I say, and I can practically hear the grin in Angelo’s voice when he answers.
“Oh, hell yeah.”
“He’s hiding out underground,” I tell him. “Abandoned warehouses in the slums, that kind of shit.”
“Sounds like a good time. When are we moving out?”
“Soon,” I tell him. “I’ll
