He Returns!

///////

Editor's Note: This post marks the 100^th post on The Texafornian. Thanks to all of yall who read. May the next 100 be as random and relatively painless as the last!

///////

Taking stock of his impossibly limited options, Liam knew he didn’t have much time. The door to his suite had already sustained what sounded like an astonishing amount of punishment, far more he ever would have imagined the ragged portal could absorbed, and it was far overdue to buckle and admit his gentlemen callers. When it did, he was confident the proceeding pleasantries would be anything but. Sifting through the pile of loot from Cwik’s pocket, he quickly spotted what he was looking for. Liam flicked an opened Trojan condom wrapper aside and grasped the small but wicked looking knife. He opened it with a smooth *snick*, a whisper of encouragement against the cacophonous tribal beat upon the door.

With the pistol in his right and the small black knife glinting in his left, Liam pointed at Cwik with the later. “Here’s how this is going to happen, Ricky,” said Liam in a low, tense voice, barely audible over the drumming on the door. “You talk, you die. You bolt, you die. You cross your eyes, you get maimed. You say you know me, so you should know I’m not playing games here. When I cut you loose, you’ll stand up and wait for me to tell you what to do. You’re gonna be my lil’ puppet,” Liam finished, giving Cwik a mock jab under the chin. Working quickly and carefully, Liam stepped on Cwik’s feet as he cut the cord holding them, leaving his hands still bound. *THOOM-AArrrccckkkkk!* protested the door, and on the other side the shouts of two men became slightly more audible. Sliding the blade upwards along the side of Cwik and stepping back a pace in one quick movement, he instructed Cwik to stand up. Spreading his feet a bit, Cwik attempted to raise himself from his bonds and only half managed the feat before falling heavily back to the chair. Redoubling his efforts, Rick staggered to his feet as the door finally surrounded its courageous battle with the intruders and spat splinters into the room as it flew back with a loud crack and settled drunkenly on mangled hinges.

Two men in nondescript clothes piled after each other into the room, pistols drawn, and came to a crashing halt just a few paces from Cwik’s demonic scarecrow frame in the cramped room. The cool air now being gulped into the room reminded Liam he was still in his boxers, only increasing his sense of vulnerability and apprehension. Keeping Cwik between himself and the men as much as possible, Liam all-to-comfortably gripped his Berretta and knife in their respective hands. He couldn’t have been more than five paces from the other men, but with the furniture and people clogging the interior there was little room to maneuver.

“Ah, shit,” said the one in front after quickly surveying the situation. He was smaller and lighter than his counterpart, but not by much. He had small, hard eyes that seemed to be looking everywhere and yet nowhere at once. Liam could see those eyes efficiently search Cwik’s face, but what was said or what was understood was impossible to discern from his vantage. Both men now had their pistols up and leveled at Liam.

“Let’s just be cool,” said the other man. His eyes were malicious. Not quick, not stupid. Just mean, and Liam didn’t like them one bit.

“I’d be a lot cooler with you guys walking your asses right back out of my suite the way you came," said Liam levelly. He was shocked to hear the confidence in his own voice. Cwik stood swaying ever so slightly, but Liam still couldn’t see his face.

“Liam, man. You know we can’t let you go. Your pop’ll have our foreskins if we botch this,” said Hard Eyes.

“We’re both already circumcised, numb-nuts!” spat Mean Eyes.

“Well then his pop’ll grow ‘em back and cut ‘em off again, Charles! Only this time we’ll be old enough to remember the process!!” snarled Hard Eyes, now turning to meet Charles’ glare.

Liam reacted before he knew what he was doing. Cwik’s knife flew from his left hand and whistled past it’s previous owner’s right ear as it buried itself Charles’ right shoulder up to the handle, causing his pistol to drop to the ground with a clatter as he lurched back and gripped the blade now sprouting metallically from his flesh. In near simultaneous concert, Liam’s Px4 quietly exploded twice. One round grazed Hard Eyes across his left cheek and the other struck the clavicle just below and he reflexively squeezed off two rounds which bit into the walls as he spun down clutching at his marred visage. The bite of gunpowder and blood exploded in Liam’s nostrils as he spotted Cwik barreling out of the door, hands still bound in front of him.

Liam should now:

A) Chase Cwik and ditch the Eye Brothers.

B) Leave Cwik and interrogate the Eye Brothers.

C) Cut his losses with both and just try to get the heck out of Dodge.

D) Finish off the Eye Brothers and then try and track down Cwik.