Frank and Lauren darted a glance at the doorway. None of them had thought to bring their weapons out there. They had thought the prisoners were bound securely.
Obviously, they had thought wrong. Hammerlock ripped the ropes loose from his ankles as if he were tearing the string off a parcel. He rose to his feet, eyes glittering. "Now we'll see."
Despairing, Frank went into a karate stance. No way could he stop this man mountain, not when Hammerlock was in this enraged state.
"Colonel, what about me?" said Brand.
Hammerlock's answer was a vicious snap-kick that left his ex-subordinate groaning.
In that brief moment of distraction, Joe darted inside the doorway. He stepped out again. Even in the gathering shadows, everyone could see the outline of a pistol in his hand.
"Hold it right there, Hammerlock," Joe shouted.
The colonel froze. "You think that popgun can kill me?" he said.
"It won't have to kill you," Joe said. "All it has to do is blow you off this wall. It's a long fall to the rocks down there." He gestured with the muzzle. "And don't think about jumping me. I'm just a little too far away."
Hammerlock glared around in frustration. Then his tensed muscles sagged as Biff came out to join Joe, his M-16 aimed and ready.
"Look what we just found," Biff said, holding out several pairs of handcuffs.
"Put them all on the colonel, here," said Joe. Again he pointed his pistol. "Colonel, on the ground, please. On your belly. Hands behind your back."
A few minutes later Hammerlock was trussed like a turkey. But Joe still wasn't satisfied. He had the colonel wrapped in so many layers of rope that he resembled a mummy.
"Don't you think you're overdoing it?" Frank asked as Joe tied the finishing knots.
"I don't want to go through this business ever again," Joe said.
"Why?" asked Lauren. "You handled it so well with that pistol."
"That's precisely why I don't want to do it again." Joe picked up the pistol, aimed it at Hammerlock, and snapped off a shot.
"Joe!" shouted Frank.
His cry almost drowned out the pock of the gun. Then a smear of magenta paint appeared on the wall over Hammerlock's head. It dripped down on the colonel as he yelled in inarticulate fury.
Biff stared in disbelief. "That's a paint-pellet gun from one of their games!" he said.
"You bet it is," said Joe. "Now you know why I'd never want to face him down again with one of those."
He grinned, then turned to Biff. "And you can do me a favor, pal. Next time you take up a game, make it checkers."
The End.
Deathgame Page 10
