Friday, March 9, 2012

Chapter Seventy-three

Hamilton, Bermuda

“Damnit, that hurt!” I groaned.
“I’m sorry, I didn't mean to shove ye that hard.”
I looked up to see Angus astride me, his pistol still pointed at Walters.  I looked over at the receptionist, whose mouth was wide open in shock.
Angus lowered his pistol and asked her “Would ye be so kind as to call the authorities?”
That woke her. She screamed and ran from the room.
“Quite.” Angus sighed.  He walked over to Walters' prone body and checked for a pulse.
“Is he?”
Angus holstered his weapon and replied, “Yes, he’ll be room temperature soon.”
He walked back to me.  I saw him checking the room ceiling’s and corners. He’s looking for a security camera.  He knelt down beside me with his back to the one he spotted.
I asked, “Did you …”
He raised his eyebrow.  “Me?  What?”  The slightest nod of his head at the camera shushed me.
I heard sirens wailing and fast approaching.  Their howl reminded me that my head really hurt.  I stood and leaned against the glass wall.  I almost dropped the briefcase as I steadied myself with one hand and held my head with the other.  Angus took the briefcase from me and with his other hand reached to support me.
Cars and vans with flashing lights filled the courtyard.  A legion of blue-jacketed souls swarmed toward us with guns drawn.  Angus whispered in my ear, “Be patient.”
The blue jackets flooded the lobby and my heart dropped as I spied a familiar blond head marching my way.  I should have known …
“You son of a bitch!” WHAM! Dolores punched me in my right shoulder.
“Ow!  Damnit! I think you popped my stitches!” I cried, wincing.
“Poor baby.  Book their asses or whatever the hell you people do here!” Dolores barked.  Then she spied Angus.
A blue jacket smushed me up against the glass as I spoke.  “Dolores, I’d like to introduce you to my good friend Angus MacFadden.  Angus, Dolores of FBI fame.”
“Very nice to meet you.” I expected her to bark again. Instead, she cooed.  Really?  Wow.
“Throw them both into my van.  I want to question them.”   Eww! Bark and bat your eyes at the same time?
“NOW, damn it!”  The blue jackets jumped as if they'd been hit in the ass by a cattle prod.
They marched us out the door and to a van.  I felt Dolores' hand in my back shove me forward as I hit my forehead on the sill.  “OW!” 
“Oh, yeah. Watch your head,” she snarled, voice dripping sarcasm. 

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