Henry Thompson

Henry “call me Hank” Thompson used to play California baseball. Now he tends to a bar on Manhattan’s Lower East Side. When two Russians in tracksuits beat Hank to a pulp, he gets the clue: someone wants something from him. He just doesn’t know what it is, where it is, or how to make them understand he doesn’t have it. Within twenty-four hours, Hank is running over rooftops, playing hide-and-seek with the NYPD, riding the subway with a dead man at his side, and counting a whole lot of cash on a concrete floor. All because of some Russian hoods and a flat-out freakshow of goons.

Henry "Hank" Thompson's got a good thing going - a hut on a quiet Mexican beach, morning swims, a nice breakfast place a few miles down shore…until a backpacker with a Russian accent shows up and starts asking questions about his past. Questions Hank doesn't want to deal with. And then the backpacker mentions the money…and Hank's parents. So Hank makes a fateful move…because no one threatens Hank's family.

Reluctant hit man Henry Thompson has fallen on hard times. His grip on life is disintegrating, his pistol hand is shaking, his body is pinned to his living room couch by painkillers - and his boss, Russian mobster David Dolokhov, isn't happy about any of it. So Henry is surprised when he's handed a new assignment: Keep tabs on a minor league baseball star named Miguel Arenas. Henry has no pity for the slugger and the wicked gambling problem that got him in trouble, but he can't help liking the guy.