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Unformatted text preview: ll be there." Yuri took the black mouthpiece from the velvet-paneled wall. "Driver," he said. "Yes, sir." "I want you to stop at a place that sells weapons, guns. You know such a place? Not far out of the way for us?" "Yes, sir, South Rampart Street." "That will be fine." "Why are you doing this?" asked Stolov, pale bushy eyebrows knit- ted, face almost sad. "It's the gypsy in me," said Yuri. "Don't worry." The man on South Rampart Street had an arsenal beneath the glass and on the wall behind him. "You need a Louisiana driver's license," he said. Stolov was watching. This infuriated Yuri, that Stolov stood there, watching, as if he were entitled. LASHER "This is an emergency," said Yuri. "I need a gun with a long barrel, there, that's fine. Three fifty-seven Magnum. A box of cartridges. Here." He took the money out of his pocket, hundred-dollar bills, ten of them, then twenty, slowly counted out. "Do not worry," he said. "I am not a crook. But I need...
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This note was uploaded on 02/20/2010 for the course WRITING 220.200 taught by Professor Julie during the Spring '10 term at Johns Hopkins.
- Spring '10