Get removed from the picture.

Hicks looked up at Gabby, trapped in the massive limbs of Butcher's thug. What was the best move here? Not to blow it yet - to let this play out at least a little more.

He tried to break out the shit-eating grin that had gotten him out of trouble time and time again, but this time it felt ****. He lowered his gun though, and inclined his head to Butcher in a nod of apology.

He didn't see the nod Butcher gave the thin man in return.

He didn't even really feel the bullet as it turned his brains into a mess of liquid and meat and spread them all over the floor.

Gabby screamed and started to kick so savagely at her captor that the man-mountain gave her a rib-crushing squeeze to show he could probably break her in half any time he wanted to. She found herself fighting for breath too, which cut off her howl of disbelief.

"Don't scream again Brandi, hun." Butcher was next to her, reaching around between her and the thug and taking her small, snub-nosed pistol. "I know you've got the guts and brains to deal with something like this." He gave her a quick pat-down, cupping her breasts and squeezing her ass indecently, but otherwise leaving her relatively unmolested. "Put her down, Mikey," he ordered as he returned to his desk.

Gabby found herself dumped on the floor, tottering on her feet, half starved of oxygen and watching her partners blood spread across the laminate flooring. Oh God, they'd both promised, going into this thing, that they'd do whatever it took to come back alive. Fuck! Lewis's family! What the hell was going to happen to her.

"Brandi Royal," Butcher said, picking up a file that she hadn't seen before - one with her face on the front - and dropping into his chair. "Rob there was a loser, a parasite. We both know it." He made eye contact with her as she stumbled towards his desk mutely and grabbed onto the back of a chair for support. "It was you I wanted to talk to."