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!”

don't get the message. Another

Too stupid to live…

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

get it.

running

Fuck…

them, and there, running

Finchby…

Gotcha!

pistol. He’s way too slow, yelping

red-faced, spluttering, panicking… I plant my fist

Got the bastard!

his feet. “Now move.” Dangling in my grip, half his weight pressed against

with me. “Want

here

a piglet that knows

Which it is…

the fuck up, Finchby. I’ve not done anything to you yet. If you annoy me

want

Ever the pragmatist…

I release him, top and bottom, and Finchby drops to the ground, landing heavily and

him away? Knowing I'd have thought you would have...”

to know where he is. I’m sure

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

the stairs, Hickman, apparently on his way out, but as he sees

the opportunity to kick out and

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

“You bastard, Hickman. You were

was to help you with…” He meets my eye, shrugs. “Sorry, Mr

to me that you're out

“I'd say you're

do you feel about a new

eyes spark, head inclining.

“Yes, me.”

He straightens up, almost to

anything you can lay your hands on to get

then, “I'll try his office.

there pick up his laptop and phone if

microscopically, looking to

for me, you take

“Yes, sir.”

hang around.” I check my watch. “We only

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