The First End Read Online Free PDF

been a needed
feather in his cap. But that idiot CEO just wouldn’t set aside his
own pride and ego for the betterment of his company or the city. He
snorted in disgust and shook his head in mock self-pity.
    The barkeep noticed. “You good, buddy?”
    “Yeah, just getting tired of all the trash lying
around.”
    “You and everyone else.”
    One of the barflies, a seedy looking individual
with speckled hair, turned toward him. “I’ll tell you who the trash
really is; it’s them blasted lawyers and uppity-ups in Westend that
are the real trash. I say we should throw them into the
garbage dump. Maybe then they’ll understand what they’re doing to
the rest of us.”
    At the mention of lawyers, Bill had stiffened,
but quickly forced himself to relax. He didn’t need any more
pressure. An idea struck him. He looked over at the challenging
expression of the bar bum and wondered if the drunk was one of the
Wastend employees on strike. He was on the verge of asking when he
changed his mind before his mouth could open. He didn’t want any
trouble. He turned away, nursing his drink.
    “Hey, what do you do?” the barfly demanded of
Bill. “All dressed up and looking so important. You important,
fellow?”
    Just wanting the idiot to leave him alone Bill
said, “I’m a lawyer.” It was the wrong thing to say.
    The man started to guffaw. “You? A lawyer?” He
slapped the top of the bar and stood unsteadily to his feet. “You
one of them lawyers that is making this strike last so long?”
    Sighing, Bill shook his head. “Go back to your
drink, friend.”
    The man turned a bit redder. “You telling me
what to do, shyster?”
    “I’m asking you to leave me alone,” Bill
snapped, growing irritated.
    “You ambulance chasers are all the same. You
milk situations like this Wastend mess just to line your pockets
off the pain and troubles of others.” The man moved closer, jabbing
a finger towards Bill. “This wouldn’t be a problem except for
people like you!”
    “What?” the lawyer demanded incredulously.
    “You hear me, you—” the barfly started to poke a
finger towards Bill’s face.
    Without thinking, and irritated beyond normal
limits, Bill’s old military training reared up and took control of
his body. His hand flashed upward with the speed of a viper,
snatching the foolish barfly’s finger in a vice-like grip. Bill
twisted violently, sending the man spinning to slam into the bar
face first. Exerting excruciating pressure on the man’s hand to
keep him from moving, Bill bent over and whispered. “Return to your
drink, foolish man. You have no clue what you are talking
about.”
    Shoving the man away so that he fell heavily to
the floor between two of the stools, Bill returned to his drink.
That should have ended it, but the barfly’s friend, a portly man
with red cheeks and two chins, took exception to the rough handling
of his drinking partner. “Hey now,” he bellowed, standing up and
starting towards the lawyer. “You don’t mess with Mickey or his
friends!”
    The burly man took a giant swing at Bill, who
saw it coming from so far away that he figured he could finish most
of his drink before the larger barfly could actually deliver the
punch. With another sigh, he leaned away and watched in fascination
as the meaty fist swung past his eyes. His attacker grunted when he
didn’t make any contact, his swing turning him partially
around.
    It was too good of an opportunity to pass up.
With a well-placed kick, Bill sent the portly man stumbling forward
to fall head over heels when his body got all tangled up in one of
the tables.
    “Hey!” the bartender protested. “Don’t break
anything!”
    Bill grinned, suddenly feeling good. The
bartender was more on his side than the two bums attacking him. The
lawyer just needed to be considerate enough not to break anything.
Well, he could do that.
    Standing up for himself, Bill delivered a
powerful punch to the first barfly - who had just regained