With a sigh Cole admitted to himself, “Well, there’s no explaining this.” The old man was practically drooling with rage, his shotgun growing all the more unsteady, all the more dangerous.

Swift, delicate hands produced a knife seemingly out of nowhere, and with the grace of a dancer Cole had Sissy in a choke hold with said knife to her throat. It was, admittedly, a bolder move than he liked to make.

“I think we should all take a moment, pause for a deep, cleansing breath,” he said in dulcet tones despite his menacing intent.

Half way down the dock, the bulky agent shot a furtive glance back, “You slimy…this will not end well for you.”

“All I want to do at this point is walk away, agent. Just walk away.”

“You…you…” Dennis stammered, bringing the heavy shotgun to bear somewhat steadily towards Cole.

“Be reasonable, sir,” Cole soothed, “You wouldn’t want to hurt young Sissy, would you?”

The night air seethed. The scene dragged to a still. Dennis muttered, “Wouldn’t be so sure…”