Philip Smith

The Rat scurried through the back alleys of Old Montreal ever so vigilant of his surrounds. He knew the area well.

His rivals could not be seen tonight, but the Rat knew all to well they were there. Movement to his left caught his

eye and he paused, searching for the cause. Friend or foe? ally or enemy? He waited listening for any signs of an

attack. "Well well my friend it is you" the Rat thought to himself. The Pick had finally made his appearance tonight.

he had heard much of this one, but why was he so easy to detect? Setup? accident? sloppy? Music escaped from

the neighborhood bar. Smells of cooking made him hungry.