The work of the Mole Men is straightforward: they live down in the dark, away from the light. They track gobbo movements. They keep their ears to the walls. And most importantly, they find and dig veins of Blue. In payment: they get a little money and a free supply of the Peacock Powder. (Which in turn helps them find more Blue.)

They’re all addicts.

Some are insane.

Mookie doesn’t like dealing with them, but it’s his job. A soldier doesn’t usually run a crew, but Werth sure as hell doesn’t want this part of the life. He doesn’t come down here. And it’s not like he and Werth are a part of the usual hierarchy, anyway.

So, Werth delegates. To Mookie.

Once Below, Mookie canvasses the Moles. Many as he can find. He finds the Hell’s Kitchen crew first: they’re a good bunch. Solid. Stable. Dependable. Four-Top leads that crew: big black shambling dude, was once one a waiter at several of the hottest, trendiest restaurants in the city. Then he got hit by a cab. Knocked his brain funny. Funny enough where he can’t wait tables but not so funny he can’t run a gang of Moles.

Sometimes, Mookie brings him charcuterie – a little salami, a little lardo.

He finds Four-Top and his crew working on the Hell’s Kitchen vein, chipping hunks of Cerulean out of black stone under the swimmy light of a couple camping lanterns. He sees Mookie, he comes up, gives a fist-bump–

“Hey, hey, whatchoo got, Mookie the Meat Man?”

Mookie knows what he wants. Mookie shrugs, shakes his head. “I don’t got any meat for you, Four-Top. Next time. I promise.”

Four-Top makes a pained face, holds his fists to his rag-swaddled chest and drops to his knees. “You’re killing me, Mook! You’re killing me.”

Mookie tells him that he knows. Then tells him what he’s looking for.

“Death’s Head’s just a dream,” Four-Top says. “People get lost down here lookin’ for that shit. It don’t exist.”

Behind him, the Moles continue working at the vein, pulling chunks out of the wall and dropping it into a rusty Red Ryder wagon, ka-gung. A couple of them stare at Mookie from under ratty bangs or dark scarves. He knows two of them: Benny Scafidi’s got a winky eye and a poochy belly like he’s eight months pregnant. Next to him is the Mole who calls herself “Jenny Greenteeth”. Curiously, her teeth aren’t green but rather, the color and consistency of melted nubs of black licorice. They want to see if he’s going to treat them with a little taste of the Blazes. Mookie just gives them a get back to work look and they quick pretend like they never saw him in the first place.

“Tell you what I did see,” Four-Top says, eye twitching. He leans in, so the others don’t hear: “I saw this thing, yo. It came with a pack of goblins, right? Looked like the cloak off the Grim Reaper, just a black blank space, like a… I dunno what. Shiny eyes and long fingers. Floated there. I hid and then, boom, they was gone.”