Atlas smiles. "Know anywhere we can stage this? I don't want it broken up before we finish, and I don't want people running away -- everyone needs what's comin' to 'em. The left their own King, and Savannah, to die. We can't let that slide. A warehouse or some shit?"
Atlas opens the cooler, pulling out a Coke and offering it to Swilla, then taking one of his own and pops the can open, taking a long drink. "No fatalities mind you, since if shit goes from bad to worse around here we'll need em, but a good old fashioned knuckle duster."
"Agreed," Atlas says, nodding. "An' like it or not, with things like the attack on Crunk, the Summer King's death, Tim... no coincidence man. I think we're gonna need every body we can get on our side before whatever this is, is over. Killin' our own people isn't sound, it only weakens our side in the long run."
Atlas turns to head out of the hospital, since there's nothing he or Swilla can do here anymore. "So... we need a spot."
"I'm assuming when it's closed," Alex offers. "No bystanders. I'll get ahold of you when I get 'em to agree to head down there."
Waiting a moment to see if Swilla had anything to add or clarify, Alex then heads out to his truck to head home and try to get a good night's sleep before he starts getting in touch with the spring court to set up the beating of their asses.
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