THE PRIZE: BOOK TWO - RETRIBUTION Read Free Page B

girl. This wasn't going well. The kid was too sure of himself. He deliberately moved his right hand to see if the kid would react. He hadn't so much as twitched in the direction of a weapon, and neither had the girl. However, they had to be carrying something besides the imperial blast rifle leaning against the wall. It was too far to reach if things went sideways, yet no one in their right mind came to this part of town without a weapon. Were they stupid enough to walk into a place like this without one, especially with what they were carrying? If only he knew what else they might have, he'd kill the kid right now and take the girl.
    “Look you snot nosed piece of shit. I just got through telling you, there ain't no boss!” He snarled, sliding his thumb along his belt so his right hand was closer to the butt of his weapon.
    “Go tell your boss Richard Penn wants to see him.” Richard could feel his temper stirring in the pit of his stomach, and clamped down on it. This wasn't the time, or the place to start a rumble yet. “All you have to do is walk across the room, he's sitting right there.”
    The man jerked his left hand away from his face as a distraction, as his right hand went towards his weapon. Moody always prided himself on being fast, very fast. It was one of the things that made him valuable, and yet, before his fingers even touched the butt of his weapon less than two inches away, the girl was pointing a lethal looking weapon at him. He hadn't even seen her move. It just seemed to appear in her hand, as if by magic. The kid shook his head, as if he'd seen that move a thousand times.
    “Now, will you stop dancing around the bush, and go tell your boss we want to talk to him?” Somehow, that was scarier than the gun pointing at him. How the hell could the kid know Brody was here? He tried to speak. “Look, there's…”
    “I'll take it from here Moody.” A deep baritone voice called from across the room. The drunk wasn't sprawled across the table anymore, but sitting back and watching the proceedings from the shadows, as were the rest of the patrons.
    “I can handle this kid and his bitch, Mr. Brody.”
    “Who are you calling a bitch?” Ellis lifted her weapon higher.
    “Can you?” Brody asked. “She seems to have the drop on you.”
    “Mr. Moody is it? I would strongly suggest that you apologize to this young lady. She really, really hates being called a bitch by anyone except me, and then only on certain occasions, and especially not by a bottom feeding lowlife scum like you.”
    “You little punk…” Moody spat.
    “Moody!” The drunk's voice whiplashed across the room. “That's enough.”
    In one smooth movement, the man once sprawled helplessly across the table, was out of his chair and striding across the room. Brody moved between Moody and Ellis’ weapon, hands up, palms out. Not that it fooled Penn or Ellis. People like Brody didn't need a weapon in their hands to be deadly.
    “I could take him…”
    “Moody, if you got up last Sunday and drew a weapon you couldn’t take him. Before your weapon cleared leather, either one of them could probably shoot everyone in this room before getting around to shooting you full of holes.” He spoke slowly, his voice mellow and completely at ease. Penn indicated the opposite chair with his eyes. Brody nodded and pulled it out and slid carefully into the seat. “Go get a drink, and take the others with you.” He ordered.
    “Yes, Mr. Brody.” Moody eyed Penn and Ellis angrily. He shifted carefully backward, keeping his eyes on them until he reached the bar. At that point, Penn dismissed him and the rest from his conscious mind and concentrated on Brody.
    “So, you have something to sell?” Brody asked with a raised eyebrow.
    “I might, depending on the price.” Penn answered carefully.
    “And what might that price be?”
    “Before we talk business, I’d like to know who I'm talking to.” Brody nodded in agreement. The weapon the girl