James Axler – Watersleep

Boyd was holding a handblaster, Bowman a oddly shaped pump-action shotgun. Both weapons appeared flawless and well maintained.

“Nice guns,” J.B. drawled. “Nine millimeter Heckler & Koch P-7 semiauto, weighs in at right un­der two pounds. Old-style policemen and the German army were big on the H&K.”

“I like it,” Boyd snarled. “Does the job.”

“That’s an Italian Franchi SPAS-12 shotgun,” J.B. continued, pointing at Bowman. “Wicked dark gun. Semiauto, designed for paramilitary use and sec work. The butt of the pistol grip can hook under your arm for single handed firing. Eight-shot magazine. Weighed right between nine and a half and ten pounds according to the old spec manuals.”

Boyd listened to the roboticlike dissertation while peering at J.B. as if the Armorer were some sort of fedora-wearing alien insect.

“Looks like we got us a real know-it-all! Mebbe the Admiral would like to have a chat with such a gushing font of wisdom,” Boyd said, looking to Bow­man for confirmation. The big man’s face spoke for him. He looked as though he couldn’t care less one way or the other.

“‘Gushing font’?” J.B. said in a mocking tone of voice. “What the hell kind of phrase is that? You some kind of pansy?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Boyd replied, his eyes narrowing at the implications of the insult.

“What are you gents doing here, anyway?” Doc asked.

“Why, we’re doing the Lord’s work—the good Lord Poseidon. You might say we’re his loyal disci­ples.” Boyd giggled at his own phrasing. “Yes, sir, we’re loyal, steadfast and true, preaching his wisdom up and down the coast, aren’t we, Frankie?”

Bowman shrugged his massive shoulders. “If you say so.”

“You know something? You’re no fun at all, you know that?” Boyd sneered at his companion.

“Get over it,” Bowman replied.

“Sorry to interrupt your spat, but there’s something I need to tell you,” J.B. interjected.

“Did I ask your opinion, Four-eyes?”

“Again with the ‘Four-eyes,'” Mildred said with a sigh. “We’ve got to get you some contacts, John.”

“Oh, what is it?” Boyd asked. “I can tell you right now the answer is ‘Hell no!”‘

“Don’t have a question, just an observation. There’s one other thing you ought to know about those H&K semiauto pistols,” J.B. said lazily.

“Yeah? And what’s that, genius?”

“Their most interesting feature is the long safety lever at the front of the grip. You have to hold it firmly before the gun can fire. And guess what? You’re not holding it.”

J.B. said this so matter-of-factly that Boyd actually glanced down at his hand to see if his prisoner was right. Boyd saw that the know-it-all had been in error regarding his grip, and he was about to correct him when the angular man realized he’d been taken. In the mere fragments of a second it took his eyes to focus as he looked back up, Mildred had swiftly drawn her own target revolver.

The change in the situation registered, but by the time he truly realized what had just happened, Gard­ner Boyd was a dead man.

“I’m a doctor. I preserve life. But nobody calls me a black bitch,” Mildred hissed, and drilled Boyd with a single shot between the eyes.

WHEN RYAN HEARD the distinctive bark of Mildred’s ZKR pistol, he, Krysty and Dean immediately started to race toward the source of the sound, which had come from the far end of the marina. Ryan glanced at his chrono. Only fifteen minutes had passed. It hadn’t taken J.B. long to wander into a firefight.

“Move,” he said, drawing his own blaster as he willed himself to run faster. On his heels, Krysty and Dean struggled to keep up with the pace he had set.

A second shot rang out, this one deeper and unfa­miliar. Ryan hit the brakes and flattened his body against one of the damp marina walls that separated the twin docks. Krysty and Dean almost collided, but managed to follow suit.

“Sounded like a shotgun, lover,” Krysty said.

“Yeah,” Ryan replied. Times like this, he caught himself wishing for some kind of portable comm sys­tem. There was no way to know which way the sit­uation had gone without an actual look-see. However, even if J.B.’s party was pinned down, he could still give Ryan their location if they had radios.