sentence-series

Chapter XXI

mmmm.  Mason said smugly.  Looks like Danny has become a father . . . or, by some stroke of good luck, well, on my behalf anyway, is that William Jr.  A very nice bargaining chip I might add" he finished with a light chuckle.

"I see you're as cold as your Russian counterpart Mason.  You must be a G4S British agent.  So, how's it going to work out between you and the Russian on the way back home?  Can you ever trust a Russian?"

"Keep coming this way Mate."  Mason ignored the poke, but there was no doubt he'd thought the same thing that William just mentioned.

Suddenly, William heard someone behind him.  He'd walked about ten feet out toward the middle of the warehouse, and he turned just was the blow came down, deflecting it enough to miss and careening off his back.  He spun quickly to the left came up with a round house, his right fist catching Alma right on the chin.  He felt satisfaction at the blow as he felt and heard the chin bone crush.  He was surprised at how far she traveled before she hit the floor.

"Nice Mate!  I don't think a Brit could have done a better job!"

"A stinking Limey could never take an American in a stand up fight Mason, especially you.  The Brits always had a sly move to their advantage or they'd just cave in and surrender like their French neighbors" William said in a sarcastic snarl attempting to bait him into a fist fight.  He doubted the Limey could take him, especially with the anger that was built up inside him.  But the Brit wasn't buying it.

"Aw Mate, you mustn't keep talking like that, or I'll get the idea that you're not very friendly."  Now, let's get down to business."

"I know, I know.  Cuff yourself to that post over there and make it tight.  And make it snappy too!  Right?"

Mason seemed to be enjoying Williams sarcasm.  "I couldn't have said it better myself Mate!"

"But, I have a better idea.  Instead, you stand right where you are, and I'll take the location information right here, right now."  He raised the 40 caliber SIG Saur to eye level and William looking down the sights right back into the eye of Mason Cabiness.  He didn't doubt for a moment that Mason would shoot him.

"Had you waited a while Mason, I would have no doubt located the missing loot which you crave so desperately.  But, do you think I would hand over the discs and the weapons just like that?  I wouldn't, even if I had them" William said quietly.

William was taut.  Like a mountain lion ready to spring at a moments notice.  In a split second, he would be all over Mason.  Mason was standing within ten feet of William.  No chance he would miss at this distance, and hopefully far enough away for him to shoot should William chance a move toward him.

"Why are you still using that old SIG when you have a chance at the new Glock 17 gen4?  I hear they are much more than one could ever expect out of a SIG" William said, more as a distraction than wanting to commence a friendly conversation.

"Ah you Americans.  I remember dad talking about the American GI's when they came over in WWII.  'Over paid, over sexed, and over here,' he said of the lot.  And they refused British arms preferring their own rustic M1's instead.  They were a stupid lot.  That's what dad said.  And, I can see why he said that" finished Mason.

Then he spoke again.  "And by that statement, I guess you prefer your XD over the SIG or the 1911 . . . ?" Mason finished with a coy smile.

Suddenly, from seemingly no where, a shot rang out.  Mason flinched, then glanced down at his shirt where a red stain was enlarging.  With a confused look on his face he looked back at William who was still standing there with his hands behind his head.  Masons eyelids drooped, and he slowly fell straight back.

A quiet ragged voice of a female said "stupid Limey Brit."

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Chapter XXI