Danny O'Brien parked his Porshe Turbo in the underground parking, shuddering to think what this would have been like had it been here before Katrina. He patted his leather jacket to reassure himself that all the protection money was safe.  Pushing the button for the elevator, he glanced around, glad for the security camera that Mick had installed. Waiting for the lift in a deserted parking garage was just a robbery waiting to happen. The silver door slid open, then quickly shut. He pushed the one button on the pad and a camera lit up.<br/><br/>"Danny, me boyo, looks like you were after being late." Mick's face and voice appeared in the screen and over the speakers.<br/><br/>Danny knew it was all pre recorded, based on who was in the garage. A very clever rig, he thought. There was no need to answer. the technology wasn't that good.<br/><br/>Stepping off the elevator, he was flanked by two goons, both carrying but tastefully as the nice Italian suit jackets fell over the pieces with out a wrinkle. None  of them spoke, They all knew the drill. One knock on the door followed by four more. The door swung open and another goon, bigger than the duo, led them into a locked back room. This room was a bank of windows, bullet proof, Dan knew, but it allowed the lights of New Orleans to illuminate the room with an array of jewels. Fog was rolling in  but that didn't dim the sparkle.<br/><br/>A silohette turned and the florid face of Mick St. James blotted out the momentary pleasure of his picture window's view.<br/><br/>"Danny, did you run into trouble down on Bourbon Street?" he asked with a true concern.<br/><br/>"Not really, Mick," Danny sat in the wing chair in front of the desk.<br/><br/>"Stand up, you cur, I never invited you to sit." his voice snapped coldly.<br/><br/>Danny stood.<br/><br/>"I ran into Tara, she had information that you might be interested in. A Chicago cop has come to Ursaline on business. Thought you might want to know." He reached into his coat and the goon was automatically at his side, holding a 40 caliber pistol at his chest. "Hold on, Rafe, I just have tonight's take.'<br/><br/>Danny tossed the packet onto Mick's desk. "We are doing a booming business."<br/><br/>"Danny, me boyo, don't even think you can go in business for yourself. I pay you well, I will continue to pay you well and the day you want to walk away from me, you will rest with the catfish on the bottom of the Mississippi."