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.

cradles a handgun, the muzzle semi-aimed

to see you, James. I wondered if you’d

“I’ve had better

behind me, Jenny’s voice. “Is that him? They have him? Is he hurt?” Then she breaks into

eyes meet mine

kill him. You can’t.” She whimpers,

dark hair plastered over the scalp. She leans forward, trying to see over her distended belly then looks up

beaten up, but mad as

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

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

voice is a snarl. “Fuck you. You’re not using me to…” There’s a crunch and a grunt.

“What

weapon. Kick it into the corridor. Or we finish him. It’ll be slow and it’ll be noisy and

kick. To James’ credit, the only sound he makes

are they doing? Don’t let them hurt him. Stop them. Oh, God, Father, please

She’s streaming

cheek, then to me, “We can’t get out right now anyway. And do you think we can fight our way past gunfire with Jenny and a new-born baby? At least

For now…

has a

I don’t have

voice from outside again. “Throw out the weapon, Klempner. And remember we can

Not quite true…

I’m below the camera…

quick mental inventory, then toss the

Larry.

they shoot me on

No… Finchby’s a gloater…

groans through another contraction,

handle your end of it.” She nods, panting, and I

They stay safely at

saw a man

two heavies towards me.

I recognise. Baxter’s sidekick from when he sprang me from the prison

you again,

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