Klempner

A voice echoes from outside the room. “Larry, what d’you think you’re doing in there? You really think you have a chance?”

“I might ask you the same question, Baxter.”

“Do you seriously think you can get out of there? You’re covered from all angles in a dead-end corridor. You’ve nowhere to go. Put the gun down and come out with your hands raised.

“Fuck you!”

There is a pause and the sound of movement and muttering, then, “If you don’t drop the weapon then we might have to take alternative action. We have a friend of yours with us. And to be fair, we have the money too.”

James…

A bluff?

Probably not…

“You going to take a look? He’s been missing you…”

And in the background, cursing; another voice I recognise.

Darting forward, then back, I risk a check around the door and down the corridor.

And yes, it’s James, battered and bruised but definitely not out of the game.

He looks fucking furious…

One eye is swollen almost shut, bruised to a shade of blue-crimson, the orb, a ball of blood. His head is raised against the muzzle pushing up at his chin to one side, the knife at his throat to the other. And I think his hands are cuffed behind him.

Standing to one side, Finchby, carrying something…

The money?

No… some kind of box…

More like a fisherman’s tackle box…

His grin is beyond irritating.

other side of James, Baxter cradles a

see you, James. I wondered if you’d be joining the

growls, “I’ve had better

They have him? Is he hurt?” Then she breaks into a

stills. His eyes meet mine then drop to

can’t let them kill him. You can’t.” She

is emerging. Bloodied, with a scrape of dark hair plastered over the scalp. She

beaten up, but mad as

back against Michael, her face contorted. “Don’t let them hurt him.

or not, and I imagine your little girl in there would prefer this one

not using me to…” There’s a crunch and a grunt. As I risk a look outside, James is on the ground, Finchby planting a boot in his

panic. “What are

we finish him. It’ll

of the sentence with another kick. To James’ credit, the

Don’t let them hurt him. Stop them. Oh,

“Jenny…” She’s streaming tears. “Jenny,

anyway. And do you think we can fight our way past gunfire with

For now…

has a point

don’t have

from outside again. “Throw out the weapon, Klempner. And remember we can see you on the

Not quite true…

I’m below the camera…

inventory, then toss the gun out into the

outside, Larry. Hands

they shoot me on the

No… Finchby’s a gloater…

she groans through another contraction, looks up at me. “Father…

Pointing a finger, “You handle your end of it.” She nods,

me. They stay safely at the far end

a man with murder in

towards me. “Search

recognise. Baxter’s sidekick from

to see you again, Hickman. Just like old

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