Tom's mouth twisted and his stomach dropped out. He looked away, thanking god for the pretense of staring at a fight that had just broken out across the bar. He said nothing. If he said anything, their cover would be obliterorated and Neil would be even farther away.

The little man's face pulled into a slick kind of smile. Please. Slavery was good money.

"Of course...bipedal bargains all go through Sasha up at Navy Pier." He spread his hands in supplication. "But of course you know this." He gave them a pitying look, all concerned salesmen. "You do know this, yes? Getting in touch with Sasha can be....expensive."