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.

the other side of James, Baxter cradles a handgun, the

I wondered if you’d be joining the

growls, “I’ve had

Jenny’s voice. “Is that him? They have

His eyes meet mine then

kill him. You can’t.” She whimpers,

scalp. She leans forward, trying to see over

beaten up, but mad

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

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

a snarl. “Fuck you. You’re 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

rising panic. “What are they doing? What are they

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

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

them. Oh, God,

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

fight our way past gunfire with Jenny and a new-born baby?

For now…

a

I don’t have

“Throw out the weapon, Klempner. And remember

Not quite true…

I’m below the camera…

run a quick mental inventory, then toss

Larry.

me on

No… Finchby’s a gloater…

through another contraction,

at her. Pointing a finger, “You handle your end of it.” She nods, panting, and

me. They stay safely at the far end of

ever I saw a man

his two heavies towards me. “Search him. He’ll

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

to see you again, Hickman. Just like old

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