What a gold mine this place was, Two Bears complimented himself proudly. Walt’s Crypt had started as a dodge to hide his income as a fixer and from doing the occasional shadowrun here in Miami, but the damn thing took off and now was so profitable that Two Bears hadn’t personally done a run for years. Last one was against the Brick Boys, a neighborhood gang who thought they could claim his place as private turf. But Two Bears wanted Walt’s Crypt as strictly neutral territory, and after he did some corrective knee surgery on several of the Bricks with his fave sledgehammer, the go-gang saw the wisdom of his position and all had been arctic since. He and the bloody five-kilogram sledge were a tough combination to reason with. Or escape from. The stainless steel lady had never failed him yet as a precise negotiating tool.