"Ease off. Tiger. Just back off." Iron Mike’s urgent caution battered its way through the red rage exploding in Tiger’s brain. "Splash him here and now and we'll have more trouble than we want to handle. Let it lie. We don’t need them." Tiger closed his cat's-eyes and holstered the shotgun. He smoothed his close-cropped hair with deliberate care, then eased himself into the booth again. Forcing himself to breathe in and out slowly through flared nostrils, he got control of his anger. "Damn him!"