"It's time to renegotiate," Hatchet barked, gun in one hand, briefcase in the other. The black car was parked in the shadow of a broken-down warehouse. The girl lay on the ground behind Hatchet, sniffling through muffled whimpers. The large gun in Hatchet's hand was leveled at Duchovny and Blackout, the latter pale and frozen, the former calm, almost tired.
"I did all the work, so it's only right that I get the full payment. Winner takes all."
"No," said Duchovny, his eyes cold steel. "You and your killing spree almost cost us everything. But your incompetence had its uses."
I'll be so glad when these are over...
ReplyDeleteNothing like the obligation of finishing a story you've started...
DeleteFor the record, I'm interested to see where this goes.