The bearded guy started to protest, but she pulled the trigger before he could get a word out. A triple burst of 9mm bullets stitched upward from his chest to his neck. The gun barrel tinkled, and the rounds thudded into the wall behind him. Light smoke hung in the air, mingling with shredded cotton from where the bearded guy’s shirt had caught lead.

We were inside Marbot’s fancy house. The bearded guy’s corpse was slumped against the wall. Above him, stairs rose to the second floor. The house was quiet. For a moment it felt empty. Then we heard a shuffling sound from upstairs. I signaled to Nazari and we went around to the staircase entrance. It was an old house, like Brumaire, but bigger and fancier. The stairs were polished wood. They creaked as we went up. I whispered to Nazari, “Been here before?” She shook her head.

We got up to the landing. The corridor ran perpendicular to the stairs. We had to choose, left, or right. I chose right. The old floorboards ground against the joists, so there wasn’t much point trying to be quiet. I guess Marbot felt the same way, because he cried out from behind one of the closed doors.

“If you come any closer, I’ll kill them all!”

The mayor’s voice was a shrill shriek, like he was in a state of high tension. I looked at Nazari. Her eyes were narrowed and serious. I continued down the corridor, making no attempt to disguise my footsteps. The mayor’s room was at the end. On the way I passed a full-length mirror and saw myself. My face and upper body were covered in blood and grit. Armed, with the tactical vest. I looked like a demon from hell. The mayor shouted again, “I’m going to kill them all!”

I made a running start and kicked in the door. The jamb shattered. Wood splinters exploded out and the door flung open leaving an empty rectangle for me to fly through.

The room was large and filled with light. The walls were yellow. I scanned quickly. On one side was a big four-poster bed. Three girls huddled together trembling. Mayor Marbot sat at a computer desk in the other corner. When I burst through the door, he looked up in shock. He was twisted around from his position at the computer keyboard, like he’d been real busy with something on the screen. The girls had their heads down, not looking up, whimpering in horror and shame. Marbot was dressed in pajamas. White flannel with thin vertical blue stripes. His bulky frame dominated the antique arm chair. A Glock 19 sat next to his keyboard. The mayor picked it up in a hurry, as if it had just occurred to him, like an afterthought. I grabbed the barrel and pulled it out of his hand.

Nazari was right behind me.