Chapter Twenty-One
Fierri pulled a gun from somewhere in his desk.
“Oh,” I muttered. “So that's what all your fidgeting was about.”
“You didn't think that I would just tell you all of this and let you leave, did you?” Fierri asked, standing and walking around his huge desk, gun still pointed at us.
“I didn't think you had the guts to pull a gun on us!” I replied dryly.
Jackson shook his head, unimpressed with the whole thing. As usual.
“What?” I asked Jackson.
“You always manage to get us in trouble,” Jackson replied, completely ignoring Fierri and the gun pointed at us. “Over the stupidest things, too!”
“Hey! I was doing my job!” I shot back, furrowing my brow in anger. “It's not my fault that your powers of perception aren't up to snuff in your old age!”
“Old age?” Jackson yelled at me. “Look who's talking, Gramps! No wonder your girlfriend didn't want to stick around tonight!”
“Seriously?” I snarled. “Would you just let that drop?”
“Drop?” Jackson crowed, laughing. “Kind of like...”
“Will you two shut up?” Fierri yelled.
Jackson and I both stopped and stared up at the chubby man pointing a quivering revolver at us.
“Oh, sorry,” I snapped. “I forgot that we were being held at gunpoint. Egos and all that.”
Fierri snorted in contempt. “You're not afraid of death, Mister Tuesday?”
“I hate to admit it, but this isn't the first time I've had a gun pointed at me,” I replied. “And you're not exactly the most frightening of people, either.”
“What if I shoot you?” Fierri asked.
“Then you're gonna have to pray that you kill me with one shot,” I replied. “And that Jackson is otherwise incapacitated because it's two against one here. The odds are not in your favour.”
“All I have to do is kill you both quickly,” Fierri informed us. “And then I can leave. I've got a plane waiting for me already. I was on my way out of the country tonight and you two just happened to interrupt me.”
“So sorry,” Jackson mumbled, a smirk playing on his lips.
“Why are you grinning?” Fierri asked.
“Because I know something you don't know,” Jackson replied.
Fierri turned all of his attention to Jacks for just a moment. “Oh really?” He asked, stepping forward and pressing the barrel of his gun against Jackson's forehead. “And what's that?”
“I never leave the house without my gun,” I replied, standing and levelling Nadia's barrel at Fierri.
“That's pretty much worth smiling about,” Jackson said simply.
“You'd better shoot him,” I told Fierri. “Because I have an itchy trigger finger, and my gun is just begging to be shot.”
“You don't even care that I have a gun against your partner's head?” Fierri asked, incredulously.
I shrugged. “I can replace him.”
Fierri opened his mouth to say something, but Jacks interrupted him with a swipe of his hand to push the gun out of his face and a quick jab to Fierri's elbow, effectively disarming the heavyset man. Jacks was on his feet in a heartbeat as Fierri took a moment to register what had just happened.
Fierri's beady eyes opened wide and he rushed at me, still clutching his damaged arm.
“Shit!” I shouted, as Fierri's entire mass hurtled at me. I didn't have time to get out of the way as the huge man full out tackled me.
I stumbled backward, dropping my gun as my arms windmilled, trying to find something to grab onto to keep me from toppling over.
I had to have the worst luck in the history of private detectives because we both went down hard. Fierri's huge mass landed on top of me as we hit the floor with a thump. I was winded and I could see stars shooting past my eyes as I struggled to breathe.
Fierri recovered quickly and struck at me, clocking me in the face with his meaty fist. It didn't hurt as badly as it did when Stringer had punched me but I wasn't terribly impressed. I struck back, catching the fat man in his shoulder and not doing any damage to his bulk.
“You'll never tell anyone what you know!” Fierri crowed triumphantly as he hammered my ribs with his huge fists.
I couldn't see anything around Fierri's massive body and I choked for air as I heard the wet thuds of his giant fists against my torso. It hurt and I couldn't breathe with his weight on my lungs. Things were just starting to go black around the edges of my vision when I heard a familiar clicking noise.
“Na...” I choked as the black of lack of oxygen began to distort my vision further.
The sound of the gun firing echoed off the thick office walls. Fierri's weight was suddenly removed from my prone body and I immediately rolled over, gasping for breath. I choked and sucked air back into my lungs as a horrible wailing noise filled my already compromised field of hearing. My ears were ringing, but I had to make sure that the wailing wasn't coming from me. Blinking rapidly, I looked up at Jackson, who was standing over me, Nadia in hand. He nodded towards Fierri, who was sprawled out on the floor a few feet away from me, crawling slowly away and making that godawful keening noise.
Jackson held his hand out to help me to my feet, and I accepted it, swaying slightly as I stood.
Jackson held Nadia out to me, butt first, the way I liked her.
“Nadia?” I whimpered, taking her gently. “Baby, you cheated on me?”
Jackson blinked back his surprise. “Nadia?” He asked.
“What?”
“You named your gun Nadia?”
I nodded. “And you haven't named yours?”
Jackson shook his head. “You really are pathetic, you know that?”
I mouthed some pretty terrible words behind Jackson's back as he turned away from me to crouch in front of the still whimpering Fierri. I tucked Nadia back into her place, whispering gently to her.
“I still love you,” I assured Nadia as she slid perfectly back into her holster.
I stomped over to where Jackson was glaring at Fierri. “Quit your whining,” Jackson growled. “I barely wounded you.”
Fierri was clutching his arm where Jackson had shot him and whimpering. “I'll give you money!” he started begging. “Jobs, clothes, goods! Anything you want!”
“I want my eye back,” Jackson said. “And I want Doctor Jones to rise up from the grave and finish helping those kids in the Kitchen. Can you do that?”
Fierri shook his head.
“Then there's nothing you can give me that will keep me from letting the cops that are getting off the elevator take you to jail.”
I peered through the glass that made up the fourth wall of Fierri's office. Sure enough, Chief Fredricks and a squad of uniformed cops were getting off the elevator with Tekla following closely. I waved through the glass as the cops pulled open the door and entered the office.
“Anyone hurt?” Fredricks asked immediately.
“Jacks shot this guy in the arm,” I announced, proudly.
Fredricks placed his hand on Jackson's shoulder. “We'll take it from here,” he said.
Jackson nodded and stood up, glaring daggers at Fierri.
I draped my arm over Jackson's shoulders, mostly to keep myself from falling over, as we walked out of the office and back towards the elevator. Fredricks would come and take our statements in a minute, but I needed to get a bit of air; that office was feeling too cramped for my tastes. Well, that and my crushed trachea probably needed a quick check out from the EMTs I assumed were waiting outside.
“You know what?” I said, my voice cracking through the damage. “I have to admit that today was a pretty good day.”