Romeo's Tune (1990) Read Online Free PDF Page B

numbers, pressed a button and the metal door swung open. I caught sight of some steps leading downwards, also lit by a dim red bulb before Algy slid through the doorway.
    ‘Wait here,’ he ordered, and headed downstairs. Before I could protest the door swung to behind him and I was left alone. The lobby was freezing and I was getting pissed off so I tried to get back into the courtyard. No chance. Somehow Algy had tripped a lock in the outer door and I was imprisoned in the lobby. I didn’t even bother trying the metal door or the combination lock. I leant my shoulder against the wall and tried to relax. I glanced up once at the red bulb and waved. Ten to one there was a video camera blimping me. About five minutes passed and my bad foot was losing circulation when the metal door opened again and Algy loomed back to join me.
    ‘Have you ever heard of false arrest?’ I asked.
    ‘Have you ever heard of a fat lip?’ asked Algy back.
    ‘I believe I have,’ I replied, and that was the end of that conversation.
    ‘He’ll see you now,’ said Algy. ‘But take it easy, he doesn’t like unexpected visitors much.’
    ‘You don’t say,’ I said.
    Algy stepped to one side and I squeezed past him, through the metal door and down the stairs. There were only half a dozen or so, then a short corridor and yet another metal door standing ajar. Algy was right behind me and gestured for me to go ahead. I could smell something strange in the air, something familiar and I hesitated.
    ‘Get a move on,’ said Algy, and I walked down the corridor and pushed the second door fully open. The smell was cordite, heavy and gagging in the air.
    ‘What the fuck is this?’ I asked.
    ‘Toytown,’ said Algy. ‘Go inside and see.’
    ‘No way,’ I said.
    ‘No choice,’ said Algy and propelled me through the door and closed it behind me. I was in a shooting range, recently used, and I wasn’t alone. Down at the target end was a lone figure. The room was even more dimly lit than the corridor and shadowy with it. Before my eyes could become accustomed to the gloom I heard the unmistakable double click of a firearm’s action being engaged and I hit the ground quick and hard and rolled towards the deepest of the shadows. A gout of flame seemed to spring from the midsection of the figure at the other end of the range, followed closely by the crack of a gunshot. Something heavy hit the wall beside me and whined off with the scream of a ricochet. The bastard was firing at me and using real ammunition. I clung to the wall, half deafened by the report but still able to hear him laughing like a drain. The figure walked towards me, pulling off a pair of ear protectors as he came. I lay where I was until I could identify the Colt Commander he held in his right hand. If I could get hold of the gun, McBain, or whoever the bastard was who was using me as a target, was going to wear it to bed that night and have serious trouble shitting for a week or two. I think he sensed my mood.
    ‘Algy,’ he called, ‘come back in. I think our visitor is slightly miffed with me.’
    Miffed, I’d give the slimebag miffed, but he was still armed and too far away for me to get to him without him being able to use the weapon again.
    There must have been an intercom system from the range into the corridor although I’d seen no trace of it because the door opened again and Algy stuck his head through the gap and gave a big heehaw of laughter as he saw me lying on the floor with my Crombie covered in dust and my dignity just about as pristine.
    ‘How close, Boss?’ he asked through his laughter.
    ‘Miles away,’ said the gunman. ‘Hardly on the same continent.’
    ‘Don’t look like he thought so,’ said Algy. ‘Do you think he shat himself?’
    They both sniffed the air and the gunman shook his head. ‘Don’t think so,’ he said.
    ‘You must be out of practice,’ said Algy and burst into fresh waves of laughter. Of course I was loving all this, but I