James

The ‘music’ is still playing, and I don’t hear the sound, but beside me, a half-empty cocktail glass shatters and Klempner, snatching at my arm, tugs me to one side. Crouching behind the bar, “That’s Finchby.”

“How d’you know it’s Finchby?”

“Because he’s a fucking lousy shot.”

“So, where’s Baxter?”

Above us, in a line on the shelves above us, the top rank of bottles shatter, exploding their contents in a multi-hued shower of liquid and shattered glass. “That’s Baxter.” Abruptly, the music cuts out…

“Thank fuck for that,” mutters Klempner beside me, inching up to look over the bar.

Another line of fire, lower this time…

Finchby’s voice. “That’s my stock you’re shooting up, Baxter…”

Klempner grins. “C’mon… They’re in the office.” His head swings. “Where’s Jenny?”

“Down the stairs. Hopefully, Michael already has her out.”

“Good. That gives us a free hand.” He checks his watch. “Right, with me… One, two, three…”

His rifle over the bar, Klempner fires blind towards the office door. It chatters then falls silent. He curses…

Out of ammo?

Jammed?

… then tugs a handgun from his pocket and fires. “Run…”

*****

Klempner

A group of half a dozen of the women mill around, seeming not to know what to do without someone telling them...

Natural slaves...

The Glock raised in my hand, “Get out!”

One blathers at me, runs up pleading, then her eyes fix on my pistol.

“Out!” I yell, pointing to the door. “Saia! Ir!”

the message. Another runs up, weeping mascara, at

Too stupid to live…

cup my paired hands, then... “Boom...”

finally, they get it. Eyes

running the

Fuck…

make after them, and

Finchby…

Gotcha!

coming and he brings up his pistol. He’s way too slow, yelping

Larry…” He’s red-faced, spluttering, panicking… I plant my fist

Got the bastard!

feet. “Now move.” Dangling in my grip, half his weight pressed against the collar at the front of his neck, it’s got to be cutting off

with me. “Want a hand

here is being

squealing like a

Which it is…

Finchby. I’ve not done anything to you yet. If you annoy me now,

examining his face. “If you want him able to speak, you’d better not strangle him. You’re crushing his

Ever the pragmatist…

bottom, and Finchby drops to the ground, landing heavily and

to carry him away? Knowing I'd have thought you would have...” James points two fingers at the little

to know where he is. I’m sure our friend here will be able to tell us where to find him, eh,

him by arms and legs, bodily, James and I drag him towards the door, kicking

there, blocking our way to the stairs, Hickman, apparently on his way out, but as he

up. Finchby takes the opportunity

from his torso. “Hey, I'm not looking for trouble. Like I said…” He looks

Hickman. You were being

you with…” He meets my eye, shrugs. “Sorry,

to me that

glumly. “I'd

feel about a new

eyes spark, head inclining.

“Yes, me.”

He straightens up, almost to attention. “What would you like

lay

“I'll try his

up. “While you're there pick up

pauses, microscopically, looking

working for me, you take orders

“Yes, sir.”

my watch. “We only have

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