Minotaur

19

Red spots appeared on the guard’s forearm, shoulder, and waist. He dropped his gun and spun around, clutching at his arm as he tumbled to the floor. “Oh God!” he screamed. “Oh God, I’m going to die!”

None of those wounds was fatal, by the look of it, but Chapel didn’t disillusion the man. If he was scared enough to make him stay down, good. He scuttled sideways, never quite standing up, and grabbed the guard’s pistol. He was getting a decent collection of weapons, now.

He moved over toward the crates again, because they would give him better cover. Edged around the sides of them so that he was almost, but not quite, exposed. “Hold your fire,” he shouted over the noise of the guns.

Surprisingly, it worked. The guards stopped shooting, though Chapel could still hear them moving around, their shoes squeaking on the floor.

He didn’t want to have to kill or even injure these men. Maybe they could be reasoned with, he thought. “Michael!” he called out. “Michael, I know it’s you leading this bunch.”

“How the hell do you know my name?” Michael replied. Chapel couldn’t see the man’s face. He couldn’t read his body language, and his voice wasn’t giving away anything. He didn’t know if he was scared or resolute or who knew what. “Whatever. Are you giving up, now?”

“Nope,” Chapel said. “Not tonight. I hope your boss won’t be offended that I borrowed some of his arsenal.”

“I’m sure he’s got other things on his mind,” Michael said. “Listen, we aren’t going to hurt you if you just drop your weapons and come out. I promise. Maybe I owe you an ass-kicking for what you did back in the billiards room. But that would be worth my job, so you get a free pass.”

Chapel smiled to himself. “I was about to make you the same offer.”

“Ha ha. Listen, guy. I talked to Stephen. I know you’re hurt bad. You’ve probably lost some blood, you’re probably not thinking straight—”

“One of the first things,” Chapel interrupted, “that they taught me in the Rangers was that a wounded man with a gun is still a man with a gun.”

“Okay. I hear you. Maybe you get one or two of us before we take you down. But in that case you’re going to die, buddy. We’re supposed to bring you in alive but none of us here is stupid. If you come out of there guns blazing, we’re going to shoot back. And there’s a lot more of us.”

Chapel leaned his head back against a crate. He suddenly felt very tired. He didn’t like how this was shaping up, not at all. But he would do what he had to do. “You know you’re already out of a job, right? If your boss gets out of here alive, he’s never coming back. And I doubt there’s room for all of you on his yacht.”

“Have you seen it, man? It’s pretty big.”

So much for reason. “Okay. This is how you want to play it, I guess. A big showdown. Last man standing walks out of here. Your guys all agree with you?”

“I’m afraid so. This is on you, Ranger.”

“I kind of had a feeling,” Chapel said.

He adjusted his grip on the rifle. Checked the fire selector, moved it into the middle position for full auto. Shifted the pistols in his belt around where he could grab them easily.

And then he stepped around the side of the crate, already firing.