“The drums have stopped.” House Mouse paused to listen. “Oh, my bad. They’re just between sets.”
Golden Jackal led the group a merry chase before finally coming to rest in a hedgerow. At nightfall, he slipped free and made a dash for it.
Abyssinian slammed down the phone. “What do they mean by no betting on the second half?”
Dhole fumbled his reload as the mob surged up the steep stairs. “Peachy. Just flippin’ peachy.”
Trying desperately to appear unimpressed by Constantinople, Bonobo insisted on referring to the city as simply, “Stan.”
Tasmanian Devil stopped the elevator. “Eighth floor moneylenders, bankers, brokers, financial wizards, and grifters. Next floor, lawyers.”
Gingerly, Chinese Crested pulled the hood of his cloak back up, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry you had to see that. I thought you should know.”