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The Hitman From New York, Hal Charles

Charlie Sweet

The stranger's seven words seized Sawyer's gut like thick fingers twisting and squeezing all the juices loose. "What . . . what did you say?" Sawyer stumbled, covering his mouth with his napkin for fear he was about to become a human Mt. Etna spewing out bile. Calmly, the large stranger sat down at the table across from him, ceremoniously removed his NY Yankees baseball cap, and repeated matter-of-factually, "I have been contracted to kill you."