A rude awakening

I barely heard the door slide open. "Damn. She didn't lock the door." I thought, motionless on the couch. We were out of sight, and she was quiet as a mouse. I heard two sets of footprints, heavy feet. "Check the bedroom." one gravelly voice said. I heard one of them split off and walk to the only open door in the house. I slid my .45 out of the holster and held it leveled at the back of the couch. I saw the sillouette of the head pop over it into view. He gasped and brought the Tommy Gun up. I punched his teeth out with the gun. He screamed and fell back.

The girl gasped and was awake. I leveled the gun at the other one who came running from my bedroom and fired twice, the roar of the .45 like the voice of God in the small apartment. He twisted and slammed into my liquor cabinet. I put another one into him for that, and he stopped twitching. I tossed her off the couch low and rolled to the floor just in time to see the back of my couch explode in springs and filling and splintered wood. I cried out as loud as I could as he fired. He came around the side and couldn't see. The muzzle flash in the dark had blinded him, and we weren't on the couch anymore.

I fired once into his trigger arm, nearly blowing it off. He dropped the typewriter and went down. I scrambled over to him and dropped my knee on his chest with all 200lbs. I smacked his cheek with the flat of my gun, splitting the skin. "So, get Mike when he's sleeping, eh? Nice trick. You tough guys are all the same." I looked over at the girl. She was shaking, naked, with my dry cum all over her. "Scram, honey. Forget you ever saw this. I'll leave you out of the story." She slipped her dress and shoes on in a daze, and slid out of the apartment.

"Now then, answers." I twisted my knee into his guts, he was close passing out from shock. "Simple question chum. Who do you work for?" He was in bad shape, but he was clammed up. He wasn't faking being tough, he was the real deal. "Aw nuts." I said, and dropped an elbow on his jaw, knocking he cold. I checked the other one. These guys looked to be the same age. Plenty of scars. And dogtags. Well well.

"Infantry eh?" I said to myself. Didn't make any sense though. It was a Great War tag, and this guy would have had to have been 8 years old. I pocketed it, and found the same on one arm Willy. Weird. I called up Homicide again.

"Mike here. You guys done at my office? I need you to drop by my house. Got a couple more, one slightly alive, but not for too long. Bleeding pretty bad. I won't be here when you get here. Too hot." and I hung up. I grabbed three extra clips from my drawer, tossed on some clothes, and started to walk out the door. I grinned, and picked up the Tommy gun. "Thanks, buddy." I said, pushing my hat up. He was coming to, and reaching for his ankle. I waited, and got a Lucky out. He was finally able to pull his pant leg up by the time I got it lit. He pulled the holdout pistol and started to raise. I cut him in half with the Tommy gun and listened to the copper rain of spent shells hitting the floor send him to hell.

It was time to find out why so many people were gunning for me. I went down the lift, nodded to Carl, and slid into the car. "Let em' Carl. They'll be in and out all night. And call the carpenter."

"Already did, Mike." he said with a grin and wave. I heard the peel of thunder, and it started to rain.

I drove to the bay. My windshield wipers pounding like war drums. Mrs Carol Tanner's little sister evidently had some powerful friends who didn't want her to be found. I wanted to know why. I pulled out my flask and took a swig, and sped through town doing 80.

I pulled up that long driveway again. It was full of cars. I wondered what the hell was going on?