Maddox began to walk closer.

“Hey,” the original guard said. “You’re supposed to stay there.”

Maddox spread his hands, shrugging as he did. “I just want my winnings. I’ll leave right after that.”

The three men glowered, but none reached inside his coat to draw a weapon.

Maddox neared the group as Pinstripe stepped back outside. The man’s head swayed just a little. His hand darted into his coat.

“I told you to stop,” Pinstripe growled.

Maddox only felt a little lightheaded from the head trauma earlier. He realized he was as close as he was going to get without a reaction. Therefore, Maddox exploded into action and charged the remaining distance.

Pinstripe was in the process of drawing the small pistol as the captain reached him. Maddox could have used the knife. This was the perfect situation for one: among a group of men trying to draw their guns. That meant, however, that Maddox would likely end up killing some of them. He did not feel the situation warranted the use of lethal force.

Instead, Maddox practiced dirty combat. Using knees, elbows and the meaty parts of his palms, and grabbing two of them, swinging them against the others, the captain incapacitated the four guards. Two of them got off a single shot each. The bullets gouged the wall. None punctured the captain, although the original guard managed a solid hand chop against the captain’s neck. It hurt, but it also infuriated Maddox, goading him to hit harder. The guard who struck him thudded against a wall before collapsing into a groaning heap.

With swift economy of speed, the captain collected their guns, pitching the magazines in one direction and flinging all but one of the semiautomatics in the other.

Afterward, he plunged into the room, with his captured weapon held before him. He passed an empty bathroom and came to two large beds and a larger area with a sofa, several chairs, a table and desk. Behind the desk sat one of the space hauler captains from earlier this evening. Maddox remembered the man’s name, Taren Lucas the III. The man was short, wore an English space navy uniform and had narrow features. Maddox remembered thinking earlier that Lucas was an oily conman who seldom told the truth when a lie would work just as well.

The man aimed a laser pistol at him. A stimstick smoldered in the ashtray while a communicator and tablet lay beside it. On the tablet was what looked like a business contract.

“I’ve summoned reinforcements,” Lucas said. “If you kill me, you’ll be held on murder charges.”

“I doubt that will be the case,” Maddox said. “All I have to say is that you fired your laser first.”

“I’m recording everything.”

“Of course you are. Still…” Maddox cocked an eyebrow.

“Are you saying Star Watch Intelligence will doctor the security data?” Lucas asked.

“Please,” Maddox said. “I’m not ready to make a recorded statement. But I do suggest you lower your gun or I will be forced to fire.”