The Charismatic Charlie Wade

As tension etched Jordan’s features.

Jagoan, who had maintained a quiet vigil, instantly discerned the growing rumble of a motorcycle engine drawing nearer. It was heading their way.

In that charged moment, Hogan grasped the gravity of Jordan’s potential entanglement.

His voice turned stern as he demanded, “Jordan, lay it bare. Who have you crossed?”

Conceding that the truth could no longer be masked, Jordan, resigned, began, “Uncle Hogan, these folks here belong to a fresh gang making waves in New York…”

Hogan interjected, “Debt collectors, are they?”

Uncle Hogan! They’ve just laid claim to Chinatown two days past. Now they’re squeezing folks for protection money, three grand a month. If you don’t pay up, they rough you up

Hogan inquired, “Hasn’t Chinatown always been run by Chinese syndicates? The fee’s been a mere three hundred a month for the past few years.

weariness settling in, “Chinese gangs ceded it to them last week after a fierce showdown and heavy losses. Big Vigo

caught Hogan off

“What’s the story with this new gang? It’s only been a month since

voice bristled with frustration. “Who’s denying that! We toil from dawn till dusk in these stores, paying rent and working under the table since we lack legal status to foot the bills. You’re overseeing it all and after all’s said and done, you’re only scraping together a few grand a month. They want three thousand, essentially

behind

the name ‘Burning-Angel’. Mostly African-Americans with a sprinkling of Latinos from Brooklyn and downtown. Word is, they’re backed by Italians. The Italians are slowly fading into the background, pulling the strings but keeping out of the fray. They’d rather let these ruthless African-Americans run the

wounds on your face?” Hogan

edged with resentment. “They came to collect their ‘protection’ money. I couldn’t cough up the sum, so they beat me down. They’ve given me until tonight. If I

the police?” Hogan’s tone carried