Heart racing, Sidney flinched back. Smoke's eyes were smoldering fires. Behind her, the doors burst open, and two guards dashed in. The first one drove the butt of his shotgun into Smoke's chest, toppling him over. In a second, both barrels were lowered toward his chest.
Don't, you move Smoke, not an inch. The first guard said.
Are you all right, Miss?
Face flushed red, Sidney jumped from her chair. Get your sorry asses out of here!
What?
Did I ask for the calvary?
Well...
Did I? She pointed at the camera's.
But- the first guard started.
Jeff, a voice shouted from just outside the library doors. Moe! Let's go! It was Warden Decker. His chest was heaving and his face beaded in sweat. He loosened his tie. Now!
With hesitation, the guards lifted their barrels and backed off, eyes never leaving Smoke.
Sorry Miss.
Sidney glared at him.
Er... Sorry, Agent Shaw.
Sidney waved the warden off, and he showed her a squamish grin. Seconds later, the doors closed again- leaving her alone with Smoke. She turned and found him in the chair, with a slight smile on his face. She hid a gasp. She hadn't even heard him move. No rattle or metal nor- scuff of chair. Nothing. She resumed her seat. How's your chest? I bet that hurt. His eyes were dancing. You're prior military to aren't you? Let's pick up from where we left off before you had your little tantrum, shall we? I believe you were saying you're upset that you haven't been paid.
I took a major thug off the streets. A top dealer. He rolled his shoulders and grimaced a smile.
I should have been paid. I was tossed in here instead.
The judge didn't see it that way. She glanced through the file. It says that you acted with extreme prejudice.
The man's a killer. A murder.
That's for the court to decide. And we just can't do around maiming people.
Smoke lifted a brow. Even if it saves a life?
You cut off his index finger.
No, I cut off his trigger finger.
She wanted to laugh but held it back. Most people only have one trigger finger. You cut off two.
I can shoot right- or left handed. Can't you?
I've never had the need. As for you, well, I'd venture to guess your little act of mutilation didn't set well with Mr. Durn. That's probably why he put the hit prison on you.
Huh, well, I've been a bounty hunter for a long time.
You've been one four years.
That's a long time. He crinkled his brow. Anyway, I've achieved a lot in that time. Helped a lot of people. But some of those judges aren't to helpful. Durn has deep pockets. It's no surprise he paid the judge off and got me inside here.
Maybe the judge was coerced.
He should be willing to die first.
Sidney nodded. Smoke had a point, but it was all speculation. She picked up the file and fanned herself with it. It's in the past now. Let's talk about the future. Are you interested in hearing what I have to offer or not?
He shrugged.
Yes or no, if you please.
Does it involve working with the FBI, or any other law agency?
Absolutely.
Then no.
Why?
You've read my file. I don't play well with others. Too many rules .Not enough action. That's why the bad guys get away. Besides, I don't trust them. If I did, I'd probably be doing what you're doing.
Come on. She leaned back. We aren't all bad.
See, you just admitted it.
Admitted what?
That most of you are bad. He tilted his head and let out a laugh. Hah.
That's a common expression.
Says the girl scout. And I bet that you think those cookies you're selling are good for me, too. He shook his head. No one is as blind as he who will not see.
My eyes are wide open.
I'm sure they are, but my answer is still no.
So, you'd rather sit in here for two more years plus and let more criminals get away?
Difficult. Difficult. Difficult. The man across from her seemed content, however. It was weird.
So long as I'm here, will you just listen to my offer?
He shrugged. Sure.
The FBI as a list. She clasped her hands together and rested them on the table. The typical America's Most Wanted. You're familiar with it, I'm sure.
Uh-huh. Say, what kind of perfume are you wearing? He sniffed the air. It's different. Good, but different.
The Marshall's have their lists. The Washington P.D has their lists too, she continued, more on a local level.
You've dealt with them all, and discarding the last case, you've done an exemplary job.
Yeah. He yawned and eased back until he lifted the front legs of his chair from the floor, then started gazing around. I know all of the lists. It's what I do.
But there's another list, one that isn't on public record. It's called-
Smoke's brows lifted, and his chair legs hit the floor. He leaned over the table and spoke. The Back Slate.