When Jerry Wagner and Kevin Moonan came out of the bar they were perfect

setups. The bar girl's taunts had left their adolescent vanity prickly. Paulie Gatto,

leaning against the fender of his car, called out to them with a teasing laugh, "Hey,

Casanova, those broads really brushed you off."

The two young men turned on him with delight. Paulie Gatto looked like a

Perfect outlet for their humiliation. Ferret-faced, short, slightly built and a wise

Guy in the bargain. They pounced on him eagerly and immediately found their

Arms pinned by two men grabbing them from behind. At the same moment Paulie

Gatto had slipped onto his right hand a specially made set of brass knuckles

Studded with one-sixteenth-inch iron spikes. His timing was good, he worked out

In the gym three times a week. He smashed the punk named Wagner right on the

Nose. The man holding Wagner lifted him up off the ground and Paulie swung his

Arm, uppercutting into the perfectly positioned groin. Wagner went limp and the

Big man dropped him. This had taken no more than six seconds.

Now both of them turned their attention to Kevin Moonan, who was trying to

Shout. The man holding him from behind did so easily with one huge muscled

arm. The other hand he put around Moonan's throat to cut off any sound.

Paulie Gatto jumped into the car and started the motor. The two big men were