When the Killing Starts Read Online Free PDF Page B

combat. We had fought a roomful of rednecks before the MPs came and saved our necks.
    "I don't b'lieve you're that tough, mister," Wallace said.
    "Let's head on outside and find out," I said.  
    "'S wrong with here?"
    Dunphy finally spoke. "Gentlemen. I'm sure you're both very tough, but why waste time proving it on one another. Mr. Wallace, perhaps our friend here is looking for a chance to show us what he can do in our employ." Dunphy had worked on his accent. He sounded like an officer, a trick most British enlisted men never master.  
    "Thanks, Colonel." I nodded approvingly. "I heard you might have some interesting work. I also heard you were a fair man. Nobody told me about this guy. Is he part of your outfit?"
    "Yes," Dunphy said shortly. "Tell me what's on your mind, Mr. . . ." He paused, waiting for me to supply the name. Baks did it for him.
    "This is Mr. Michaels," he said, and Dunphy turned to Wallace and frowned.
    Wallace must have been a mind reader. He responded at once, without blinking, stepping forward and slamming a punch at my head. Only I beat him to it. People don't ambush me, not since 'Nam. I was to one side of the punch when it got there, grabbing his wrist with my left hand and crunching my balled-up right fist into the back of his neck like a hammer. He grunted and collapsed across the table, spilling beer in all directions.
    I turned to face Dunphy, crouching. "What was that all about?"
    He ignored me. "Pick him up," he told Baks. "We can talk outside."
    Â 

 

 
    THREE
    Â 
    Â 
    The bouncer was coming toward us, shoving through the dancers on the tiny floor like a battlewagon through a yacht regatta. He was big and ugly enough to be a dropout from a biker gang. I wondered what Dunphy would do. He showed me instantly. His billfold was in his hand before the man reached us. His voice was confident as he spoke. "I'm sorry about the mess. Our friend here has had a drop too much of your good beer. We're leaving. I hope this will take care of any damage."
    The biker took the twenty and put it in his shirt pocket. "Looks to me like he needs some air," he said.
    Dunphy obliged him with a neat little chuckle and turned away to where his new recruit was draping Wallace's arm over his shoulder and getting ready to carry him out. I stood back, not offering to help. To the victor the spoils.
    Dunphy led the way to the door, and I came right behind him, leaving the kid staggering under Wallace's weight. The inner door was shut, but it was glass, and I could see there was nobody waiting outside to throw any punches. The street door was open. Dunphy stepped through it and paused to glance back at the other two. He ignored me. I checked around. There was nobody on the street but the usual Saturday night strollers. Wallace had been his only backup.
    I waited until the kid had made the door and paused, grunting with his efforts, propping Wallace against the wall and leaning against him. Then Dunphy turned to me. "You're very good, old chum," he said.
    "Good enough, a lot of the time."  
    "Tell me, were you hoping to find employment with my organization or what?"
    "I wouldn't want to fight alongside Wallace," I said. "But that's not why I came looking for you, anyway."
    "Oh, and what was your reason, Mr., er, Michaels, you said, didn't you?"
    "Yeah, Tommy Michaels. My brother asked me to see you. Said his dumb kid had joined up with you. The kid's underage; we want him back."
    Dunphy straightened himself up, a sure sign he was going to start lying. "I've no idea what you're talking about."
    "Fine. Then I'll call a cop and we'll head down to the station and you can talk to somebody who can make you remember a little better."
    "It wouldn't change anything," he said in the same tone he had used on the bouncer. "I've told you, I've never heard of anyone called Michaels, except yourself, of course. However, you do impress me, and I could offer you a very rewarding assignment if you chose." He didn't let