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!”

get the message. Another runs up, weeping

Too stupid to live…

the Glock, I cup my paired hands, then... “Boom...” I open

get it. Eyes widen. Screaming, they

running the wrong

Fuck…

and there, running

Finchby…

Gotcha!

sees me coming and he brings up his pistol. He’s way too slow, yelping as I slap the hand to

panicking… I plant my fist

Got the bastard!

half his weight pressed against

me. “Want a hand

Our friend here is

an understatement. Finchby’s squealing like a piglet that knows it’s bacon

Which it is…

fuck up, Finchby. I’ve not done anything to you yet. If you annoy me now, we might move on to that

examining his face. “If you want

Ever the pragmatist…

bottom, and Finchby drops to the ground, landing

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

nod. “You're right. I would. But Baxter's not here and I need to know where he is.

legs, bodily, James and I drag him towards

his way out, but as

Finchby takes the opportunity to kick out and James

from his torso. “Hey, I'm not looking for trouble. Like I said…” He looks down to Finchby again, his mouth pinching… “I don't want nothing to do with

Hickman. You

to help you with…” He

Hickman, it seems to me that you're out of a

nods glumly. “I'd say you're

do you feel

spark,

“Yes, me.”

Klempner.” He straightens up, almost to

rope, tape, string, anything you can lay your hands

thinks, then, “I'll try his

“While you're there pick up his laptop and phone if

pauses, microscopically, looking

you're working for me, you take orders from

“Yes, sir.”

hang around.” I check my watch.

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