“IT’S DONE,” Mike told the Dragon. “The message is sent.”
The American sounded groggy. It was nearly dawn in Romania, and Mike had been running the Dragon’s errand all night.
“Excellent,” the Dragon said. “And the message was clear?”
“Oh, it’s clear,” Mike replied. “Nobody in that pissant town will mess with you again. And if big sister calls home, she’ll lose her fucking mind.”
The Dragon smiled to himself. “Perfect,” he told Mike. “You’ve done well, Mike. Thank you.”
“Yeah,” Mike said. “Maybe you can pass the good news on to that partner of yours. Maybe he stops worrying so much.”
“I’ll tell him,” the Dragon said. “I’m sure he’ll be very pleased.”
“You can tell him his next shipment’s on the way, too,” Mike said. “The Atlantic Prince. Give it four or five days.”
“You made the changes to the order as I instructed?”
“Sure did. Swapped out any girl over eighteen, put together a box full of the prettiest teenage product you ever laid eyes on,” Mike said. “I guess that means Andrei finally agreed to go in with you on the New York thing, huh?”
“Not yet,” the Dragon said. “But he will.”