“I’m a whole new man myself these days, Russell,” I said easily, turning my back on him as I headed for the door.
“You bastard.” I looked back, and Russell had forced himself up onto his knees, so he could glare at me through blood-shot eyes. “You still don’t respect me!”
“Yes, well, there’s a reason for that, Russell. I’ve flushed things I respected more than you. Now I really must be going. Important things to be about; you know how it is. A shame it had to come to this ... Don’t let the past define you, Russell. You can’t move on if you’re always looking back over your shoulder.”
“Bastard!”
Words of wisdom are just wasted on some people. I walked out the door and stepped cautiously out onto the landing. I could hear the armed men milling about in the lobby below. And then Russell raised his voice in a vicious, commanding scream.
“He’s up here! Taylor’s up here! Get up here and find him! Forget the taking-him-alive shit; I want him dead! Dead! Ten grand bonus to whoever brings me his head, so I can piss in his eyes!”
A whole army of men came clattering up the stairs, heavy feet slamming on the complaining wooden steps. I moved silently down the landing towards them, then slipped into the office before mine and hid behind the open door. Some tricks are classics. A whole bunch of very heavy people moved purposefully along the landing, slamming open each door they came to. I braced myself and took the impact on my shoulder, gritting my teeth to make sure I didn’t make a sound. The thug stepped into the doorway, looked quickly round the empty office, and moved on. Not all thugs are brain-dead muscle; but that’s usually the way to bet.
I eased forward, peering carefully round the edge of the door. The armed men had come to a halt, clustered before my open office door. Russell was yelling at them, but they simply stood there and took it. Probably part of their job description. Russell looked like he was the sort who’d enjoy yelling at people. All of the thugs were carrying guns, in a very professional way. Mostly pistols, a few sawn-off shotguns. I counted twenty-two armed men, in all; rather a lot, to bring down one man. Especially since I’d never been considered that dangerous, back in the day. Either Russell was taking no chances on me disappearing again, or ... someone had been talking.
Twenty-two armed thugs. In a very confined space. Oh well, you have to make a start somewhere.
I slowly eased round the office door and padded carefully down the gloomy corridor until I could ease in behind the man at the very back of the crowd. I slipped an arm round his throat from behind and had him in a choke hold before he knew what was happening. I dragged him quickly back into the adjoining office, tightened the hold till he was well out, then lowered him carefully to the floor.
Suzie had taught me a lot of useful grips and holds. Often during foreplay.
I stepped out of the office, strolled casually down the corridor, and tapped the shoulder of the man in front of me.
“Who are we after?” I murmured into his ear.
“Some scumbag called Taylor,” said the thug, not looking round. “Word is he owes the boss, big-time.”
“Taylor,” I said. “That’s a name from the past.”
The thug shrugged briefly. “Should never have come back. The boss has a real hard-on for this guy.”
“What a perfectly appalling mental image,” I said. “Is this all of us? Any more coming?”
“No; we’re it. But watch yourself; this Taylor’s supposed to be a bit tricky.”
“Oh, he is,” I said. “Really. You have no idea.”
Something seemed to occur to the thug, and he turned to look back at me. His eyes widened as he realised who he’d been talking to. He opened his mouth to give the alarm, and I kneed him briskly in the balls. His eyes squeezed shut, and he dropped to the floor. Other members of the crowd before me began to turn round, sensing something was wrong. I took out the sachet of coarse pepper I always keep in my coat-pocket, tore it open, and threw the granules right into their faces. They cried out in shock and pain as fierce tears ran down their faces, blinding them; and then the sneezing and the coughing started, convulsing their bodies as their lungs heaved for air. Never go anywhere without condiments. Condiments are our friends.
I moved quickly forward, forcing my way through the hacking, teary-eyed, almost helpless thugs, handing out nerve pinches, low blows, and the occasional really nasty back elbow when the opportunity presented itself. I slammed thugs against the wall, sent them crashing to the floor, and even tipped a few over the railings. Not one of them even managed to lay a hand on me.
I was actually starting to feel a bit cocky when the men on the furthest edge of the crowd, and therefore furthest away from the pepper, raised their guns and opened fire. The noise was deafening in the confined space, and the bullets went everywhere. Some pock-marked the wall beside me, some hit their own men, but none of them went anywhere near me because I was down on one knee and out of sight. Gun smoke thickened on the air, confusing the situation even more. There was screaming and shouting and general uproar, and I contributed a few He’s over there!s. Just to be helpful.
I slipped easily through the confused crowd and out the other side, ducking and dodging and bestowing vicious unexpected blows on the unworthy. Nothing like a lot of people in a tight space to put the odds in favour of the lone fighter. Particularly if he’s a dirty fighter. I waited at the foot of the stairs to the next floor, until I was sure they knew where I was, then I used one of my favourite tricks, and employed a small but useful magic to take all the bullets out of their guns. The crash of gunfire cut off abruptly, and there was a lot of confused shaking of guns. I took advantage of their confusion to run up the stairs to the next floor. And then I sat down abruptly, by the railings, and gasped for air. I’m not as young as I used to be. I peered cautiously down through the banisters to see what was happening below.
More than half the thugs were on the floor: unconscious, bleeding, shot by their own people, or still recovering from various dirty tricks. Most of them wouldn’t be taking any more interest in proceedings for a while, and the rest were too busy cursing their fellows for being such lousy shots. Russell could still be heard screaming orders and abuse, almost incandescent with rage. I never knew he had it in him. Bullet-holes had pock-marked the first-floor wall, and all my frosted glass was gone. The gun smoke was slowly clearing, but there was still only intermittent light from outside. It occurred to me that I shouldn’t be able to see all this as clearly as I did ... And then I pushed the thought aside, as some of the thugs reloaded their guns and started cautiously up the stairs towards me, driven on by Russell’s screeching voice.
I could feel Excalibur on my back, a fierce and dangerous presence, nagging at me like an aching tooth, demanding to be drawn and used. The sword would have made short work of the thugs, guns or no; but I didn’t want to draw it. I didn’t need a legendary sword to see off a few bad guys with delusions of adequacy. I was John Taylor, no longer trying to be normal.
I took a flashbang out of my coat-pocket, primed it, and tossed it lightly down the stairs. I counted off five, then turned my head away and squeezed my eyes shut. The flashbang detonated, filling the stairs with unbearably bright light. The thugs screamed like little girls as the fierce-light-blasted eyes adjusted to the gloom, and they fired blindly ahead of them, peppering the stairs and the walls but not coming anywhere near me. I waited till they stopped firing, then strolled casually back down the stairs, snatching the guns out of their hands and hitting them here and there with vicious intent. One by one, I kicked their unconscious bodies down the stairs and threw their guns after them. I’ve never cared for the things. One lone thug remained, at the foot of the stairs. He’d managed to avoid the worst of the flashbang, and the pepper, and had his gun trained on me. He looked seriously spooked, though; his hand was trembling, and his eyes were almost painfully wide as he watched me descend the stairs towards him. I’d taken down his entire gang, and I wasn’t even breathing hard.