James

Klempner pauses, sucking at his teeth, eyes vacant for a moment. Then he head-jerks up the stairs. “Keep going. I’ll be right behind you.” Then he reverses and, to the sound of running footsteps vanishes back the way we came.

“Klempner… where…?” But he’s gone.

Michael meets my eyes but doesn’t comment, simply heading upwards, Charlotte clinging to his neck with one arm, and to Cara with the other.

I follow. “You know the way out?”

He talks back over his shoulder. “Not sure. Finchby’s office is just up here.”

“Great. From there, out through the pool room, across the dance floor and out down the stairs.”

He grunts acknowledgement, stepping up his pace.

At the top of the stairs, now on the level, Charlotte and Cara in his arms, Michael goes through the office and past the pool room bar at speed. Ahead of us, women mill.

“Downstairs,” I yell, but none of them seems to understand English. The multi-coloured glare of the dance-floor lights illuminates complete chaos. Customers are looking wildly in all directions, pulling their pants on, dashing for the exit…

Thinking it’s a police raid maybe?

Michael pauses, looking around. “Which way?”

“There.” I point towards the stairs I entered by the first time I came here with Klempner. “Through that door then two floors down to the front exit. Go.”

off at a run, leaving me hanging and wondering what Klempner’s

go back

from Finchby’s office. “Your attention, please,” he shouts. Everybody out! This is not

too, some half-dressed, others holding up their pants at the belt. They at least know the way out, dashing for the exit. The women don’t, some heading for the back rooms. Klempner snags one by the

this time the right

“Klempner, what’s going on?”

at

???

the fuck have

out. Have you

“No.”

them, or we’re back to square

*****

Michael

to a wailing Cara, I run out into the dark.

brain catches up with the fact that shots are being fired at us. Behind

me,

Crap…

breathless, headlong charge, for a moment I don’t recognise it, but then I see the face. Richard at the windscreen, screeching in, almost on two wheels as, rubber burning, he skids

back!” he yells, opening the doors ahead of me, pulling Charlotte through from one side as I push

yells from the driver’s seat. “Michael.

her chest. She doesn’t seem to have realised that James isn’t

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