A whisper into the mouthpiece ... a name, a place ... and maybe that night a black truck would careen up the El aimed at Steve Galloway. Or it could be a knife, or a gun. Galloway knew all this. But Sam, who had raised him, was dead ... dead at the hands of these civilized killers, these quiet, dark men who dealt in corruption and decay. So Galloway fought them anyway - with all the wildness of the black Irish in him - and...