The Blood Money - Freeport One Edition -

[Squad]

This one certainly has some color. Par for the course.

Johnson slid his right hand behind the bandages before putting it on the codger’s shoulder.

"Son, I never said I wanted to be here, but I don’t have much of a choice."

He patted the blood stain to make sure it set deep.

"I suppose boys like yourself like to play at fighting around here . . ."

Johnson spun the drunk around, snagged a tumbler on the bar top, and with some slight pressure, pushed it into his stomach.

"I don’t have the luxury of watching people die on scanners. Where I’m from, they bring it home."

He tapped the wound on his abdomen.

"Now let me help you think before you open that mouth of yours . . . "

Johnson thrust the tumbler opening over the drunk’s mouth and nose, holding it until he inhaled. The vaccum left the room strangely quiet along with giving the fellow a satisfying, if short-lived, duck face.

As he exhaled, the tumbler fell off onto the bar, and Johnson patted his back as he coughed up what seemed to be a lung.

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