I see the redhead down a service corridor that seems to strech for miles.
She's about ten yards in, hemmed in between an adult and child water
fountain, menaced by two goons in black suits and blacker sunglasses. The
one closet to me has a red handkerchief in his chest pocket. The other has
a similar but light beige one.
Both have at least a foot on the terrified woman and either looks
dangerous for both of us on their own. But I have to do something.
-
I tackle Red.
-
I tackle Beige.
-
I fire two warning shots over their heads.
-
I fire two warning shots into the ceiling.
-
I fire a warning shot but it turns out I am a bad shot. Beige goes down, a hole in his thigh.
-
I fire two warning shots into the ceiling. Chunks of concrete bounce off my skull. I see the redhead carried off by popular cartoon characters from my childhood.
-
Before I can do anything, I feel a gun pressed against my left ear.
-
The redhead lets out a terrifying scream. I blink and the men are on the floor, bleeding quite profusely.
-
Beige shoots Red, then kisses the girl.
-
I am shot in the foot.
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