"Do it, Robb Kendall, and you're a F-BOMBING DEAD MAN!" Liam shouted, sweat running down his face and spittle flying from his lips.
I was pressing the barrel of a .45 automatic into the underside of his chin while his goons pointed their own guns at me when he said it. I smiled at them over his shoulder.
"Fucking crazy-man!" Dashing Matt was saying under his breath, the gun trembling in his hand as he glanced down at the corpse of the man whom I had just killed with a quick upwards strike of my palm against the underside of his nose.
"I only see a couple of ways out of this one, Liam. You've been kind to me in the past, but I'll blow your F-BOMBING head clean off if I don't get your word that Eileen can get clean from this sh*t if I do what you're asking me to do. And maybe your men can try to kill me, but" and I flexed my metal arm before his and everyone else's eyes, "I've dealt with worse than your little bitch boys, let me tell you."
That single motion seemed to put a little less iron in some of the boys' rods, and they lowered their guns somewhat. Only Matt was left covering me. Liam's hands were white-knuckled gripping his knees.
The crowd at The Nancy's was either standing stock still or taking cover from what seemed like the imminent onset of flying lead. And every one of them was looking at me as if I were stone cold crazy. Looking back, I think they were right.
"I give you my-" Liam began softly, but I interrupted him.
"What, Liam?" I shouted loudly, "I don't think that everyone in here can hear you. Speak louder. Or I blow your F-BOMBING brains all over the wall. I'm tired of all of this bullshit!"
"I give you my word, you F-BOMBING nutter! My word, you do what I want you to and she's free to F-BOMBING go!" Liam all but screamed, eyes squeezed tightly shut as the hammer clicked back on the .45.
"You all heard this bastard, didn't you?" I voiced loudly, "His word!"
And then, quickly, I leveled my pistol at Dashing Matt, and blew his thumb off on his gun hand. He dropped his pistol, howling in pain. The other men began to wheel and duck away in a panic.
I backed towards the door, pistol readied for any comers.
“Everyone knows your word's your honor, Liam Gallagher. I'll damn well hold you to it. See you in a few days.”
Liam turned, rage evident on his reddened face.
“Not if I F-BOMBING have you killed first, you bastard!” he spewed out with venom.
“Remember, Liam,” I said, winking at him as I dodged through the back door, “just who's the decorated RIR sniper here. You won't ever see it coming if you
f*ck me on this. Not from a thousand yards, you won't.”
I let the door slam shut in front of me.
I made my way through the night, avoiding the places where urban predators hide, swift in my travel.
At the tiny apartment, I checked my stowed weapons to find them in place and still loaded. Next time, I wouldn't be unarmed. I strapped the shotgun over my right shoulder under my jacket, pocketed the revolver and put the knife in my inside pocket. I slipped several shotgun shells and bullets for the revolver into my other outer jacket pocket. The automatic I now possessed, I left in the waistband of my pants.
My first step after arming myself was to assess the situation at hand. Liam had told me that in order to win Eileen's freedom from Dashing Matt, I would have to do him a favor. I had agreed quickly, and found his responsive sly grin more than a bit distasteful.
It was a robbery he had planned for me. Not some smarmy masked bank job, but a real breadwinner. But like anything worthwhile, it wouldn't be easy. Impossible, if I tried to do it alone. So I set my mind upon finding the friends I'd made in the Royal Army hospital in North Africa. I had only to find a way to convince them to join me.
Tags: Etherpunk Scifi
