The stranger drew Floyd's attention the second he walked into the club. Something marked him as a dangerous man, but it took Floyd a minute to figure out what. Like everyone else at The Tip Top that night, he was black-actually, light skinned for a black man, kind of a golden color, with wavy brown haircut short. He was not particularly big, barely six feet and a little on the thin side. His clothes did not stand out. He wore a basic black suit and tie.

A man's eyes would sometimes draw Floyd's attention, but that could not be it this time. The stranger wore very dark wraparound shades. As the man moved around the crowded tables toward him, Floyd realized it was the stranger's attitude that had drawn his eye. This man carried a calm confidence seldom seen in a place like this in Northeast Washington D.C.

The music in the Tip Top was throbbing so loud Floyd could not make out the words, although he could feel the beat. It made conversation almost impossible. But he heard this man clearly.

"Jones," the stranger said. "Hannibal Jones."

The music lowered, and Floyd noticed every eye in the place was on him. All of them, drunks, whores, drug addicts, and a few real people who wanted to relax for a while. They all smelled of liquor, or drugs, or cigarettes, or desperation. This Hannibal Jones did not smell of any of that. He was an island in this place, isolated and alone. Floyd glanced to his left with a wry smirk.

"Look here, stud. This here's Joey. He takes care of my light work. And that guy behind you, Lawrence, he cleans up the messes Joey leaves behind. If I was you I'd get to stepping before I pissed somebody off. You getting my message?"

Joey was good. There was no telegraph, no warning body language. But somehow, when his big right fist reached its target, Hannibal's face was no longer there. Floyd saw his bodyguard take a hard snap kick in the gut and a back fist across his face before Lawrence got his arms around Hannibal, locking his arms down. Somebody stopped the music but nobody spoke. It was a private hassle, but everybody wanted to watch.

"Not bad, stud," Floyd said, "but you can't expect to come in here with that Jackie Chan shit against the big boys."

"Uh-huh," Hannibal said. He smashed his head back, bloodying Lawrence's nose. Then he snapped forward, grabbed Lawrence's ankle and jerked up. Floyd heard Lawrence's head thump the floor behind Hannibal. Joey moved in again, but black gloves blocked both his best punches. Then two crisp jabs and an uppercut put Joey over Floyd's table, spilling his scotch. More confused than scared, Floyd reached for the nine millimeter at the back of his waistband.

"Don't even go there, stupid." Hannibal pulled an automatic from under his right shoulder and shoved its muzzle into Floyd's cheek. "You get your piece out, it's pure self defense and I turn your face into abstract art."

Silence gripped the room and the Tip Top became a still life while Floyd watched himself sweat in Hannibal's Oakleys. He thought about business and his rep and his honor. Mostly he thought about dying.

"It's your world," Floyd said. "What now?"

"Now we negotiate and come to an agreement," Hannibal said, sitting on the table and pulling his gun back an inch. "My terms are simple. Let it go. One girl less. No comeback."

Floyd sat taller and straightened his face. No fear, he told himself. Back to business. "Who you work for, stud? New player coming in?"

"I work for me," Hannibal said. "Solve other people's problems. Jewel had a problem. She wanted to get off the streets. I solved it. Now, is this over?"

Floyd considered himself a good judge of character. He could negotiate a position with this one. The man was leaving him an out, so it would not look like he was getting ripped off.

"All right, if the bitch wants out, she's out. But this better be for real. I find out she's working the streets I'll kill her. I mean anywhere, dig? I got friends all up and down the coast, and they know every whore out there. She starts hooking, her ass is mine."

"Fair enough," Hannibal said. "I'll pass that on. As long as she's out of the life, I'll keep her safe. Otherwise, I'm out of it." Then he holstered his weapon and stood up. "Pleasure doing business with you. When your two friends wake up, tell them I said practice."