Bold Solution

Dingo nods and finally pops the big question, ”Shade, how do they do it? How do they make those bullets?” I pause mid marble collection. “Some kind of book. I didn’t recognize the language it was in when I saw it, but that was just from hearing a guy read out of it. The whole key is the book. You can’t memorize it, you have to be holding it. Copies don’t work either. They get one of their me-“ I stop mid-sentence and pick up the last marble to my head. The red light’s label suddenly makes sense. This is a trap. A few seconds later I can hear audible sniffing and everything gets confirmed. “He’s telling the truth,” I hear someone growl. A werewolf slave, checking my pheromones and backing up the info Dingo just got me to spill. I hear clapping and Malvolio presents himself. “Thank you Mr. Shade. That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he says. He nods to Dingo, who gives me a hang dog look before fading out. “Oh, and don’t forget to see to that piece of business, if you would. Our offer is now changed appropriately,” Malvolio says to Dingo. “Yeah, no worries. I got it,” he says. Malvolio turns to me and paces for a few moments. I cough and feel a loosened tooth with my tongue. Another cigarette to my lips and the burn picks up a bit more. Malvolio leans down close to my face. “I greatly appreciate that bit of information, Mr. Shade. But there is so much more you could be telling us. Why not just keep going? Floor plans, personnel, training, types of guns. Whatever else I can thi-“ its his turn to stop mid-sentence because my cell phone is suddenly ringing. It wasn’t quite the interruption I had planned but I don’t think Malvolio was used to cell phones going off mid-beating. He stands and curses, grabs me by my bruised cheek and snatches the phone out of my pocket. He squeezes my face and I’m suddenly regretting the cigarettes. Malvolio laughs and shoves the opened screen in my face. All the phone reads is ‘help’. It’s from the kid. Malvolio lets go of my smashed cheek and lifts me up by my shirt. “I suppose you think that was funny?” he asks. “Naw, that was just a giggle. What’s funny is how little of this you’ve thought through, big guy. You didn’t even ask me where the book was,” I say back. He sneers at me and gives me a fanged grin. But I give him a toothy grin right back when the gun barrel touches the bottom of his jaw.