more, I started to get a headache. I saw nothing further of value and felt like I needed a drink. I picked up the telephone handset and dialed room service and ordered a bottle of scotch. Any brand would do I had told them.
I needed someplace to start. My hope was that I c ould keep my sanity long enough to see this thing to the end.
Chapter 2 7
Befor e going to bed in a hotel room, I always prop a chair under the doorknob. It wasn’t much, but if someone was trying to get in, it would give me a few seconds to grab a weapon. Sitting in the small kitchen area, I had a clear shot at the door. I had placed the Glock on the kitchen table within easy reach while I drank my coffee. The front door of the room did not open straight out into the parking lot, but had a small alcove you had to step into before entering the room. I wasn’t sure how long I sat there, but twenty minutes more or less would cover it. I had ordered a bottle of scotch from room service and was waiting for the knock at the door when I saw the chair move slightly. If I had not been looking at the door, I wouldn’t have noticed it. Getting up from my chair, I grabbed the Glock and screwed in the suppressor and walked to the door. Looking through the security hole I saw two guys looking back at the door. One guy had a sap in his hand and the other guy had a small caliber pistol with a silencer on it. I didn’t see anyone standing out there with a bottle of scotch.
Our room was one of those two bedroom suites where one of the bedrooms could be joined with the suite making for two bedrooms or closed off and rented as a hotel room by itself. The extra room also had a door to the outside. I had to move fast. Removing the chair from under the doorknob, I was hoping that Hilary would stay in the bathroom for the next few minutes singing her heart out while I tended to these two out in the hall.
Walking into the other room, I opened the door to the outside and stepped out onto the walkway. I could see the back of one of our visitors rocking back and forth like a fighter waiting to go into a ring. I heard one of them say, “He’s probably in there fucking the girl. If he is, I want sloppy seconds.” I heard them both laugh. Hugging the wall, I inched my way down the walkway until I was able to put the end of the Glock’s barrel behind the guy’s head that was rocking back and forth. I shot him in the neck just above his shoulders severing his spine. He was dead standing up. I heard the other man say, “Frank, what’s with you…” I grabbed the one I shot and shoved him into his partner, knocking them both through our room door. As they fell on our floor, I shot the first guy in the groin.
Shooting someone in the groin tends to hurt like hell, but they usually don’t die right away from the wound. This one dropped the pistol he was holding and grabbed his crotch.
Hilary walked out of the bathroom holding a towel in front of her just as I came through the door. With a surprised look on her face, she smiled and said, “I take it we’re checking out?”
Lifting the dude with the groin problem by his hair, I said, “Not until I get some answers from this fucker.”
“I’m not telling you a fucking thing asshole.”
“Little early to be making rash statements, don’t you think? By the time I get through with you, you’ll be singing the National Anthem, trust me.”
Walking over to the dead guy, I emptied his pockets. He had a roll of hundreds that would have choked a horse. I threw the roll on the bed. His driver’s license gave his name a Stan Goldman. He was from College Park, Georgia. The rest of the stuff amounted to a pocket knife, a set of car keys, which I threw on the bed, along with the money. The car keys were the kind where you pushed a button to unlock the doors and another one to start the engine. It made it easy for me when I had to find the car.
I stood up and looked at the other guy holding his groin and said,” Okay
I needed someplace to start. My hope was that I c ould keep my sanity long enough to see this thing to the end.
Chapter 2 7
Befor e going to bed in a hotel room, I always prop a chair under the doorknob. It wasn’t much, but if someone was trying to get in, it would give me a few seconds to grab a weapon. Sitting in the small kitchen area, I had a clear shot at the door. I had placed the Glock on the kitchen table within easy reach while I drank my coffee. The front door of the room did not open straight out into the parking lot, but had a small alcove you had to step into before entering the room. I wasn’t sure how long I sat there, but twenty minutes more or less would cover it. I had ordered a bottle of scotch from room service and was waiting for the knock at the door when I saw the chair move slightly. If I had not been looking at the door, I wouldn’t have noticed it. Getting up from my chair, I grabbed the Glock and screwed in the suppressor and walked to the door. Looking through the security hole I saw two guys looking back at the door. One guy had a sap in his hand and the other guy had a small caliber pistol with a silencer on it. I didn’t see anyone standing out there with a bottle of scotch.
Our room was one of those two bedroom suites where one of the bedrooms could be joined with the suite making for two bedrooms or closed off and rented as a hotel room by itself. The extra room also had a door to the outside. I had to move fast. Removing the chair from under the doorknob, I was hoping that Hilary would stay in the bathroom for the next few minutes singing her heart out while I tended to these two out in the hall.
Walking into the other room, I opened the door to the outside and stepped out onto the walkway. I could see the back of one of our visitors rocking back and forth like a fighter waiting to go into a ring. I heard one of them say, “He’s probably in there fucking the girl. If he is, I want sloppy seconds.” I heard them both laugh. Hugging the wall, I inched my way down the walkway until I was able to put the end of the Glock’s barrel behind the guy’s head that was rocking back and forth. I shot him in the neck just above his shoulders severing his spine. He was dead standing up. I heard the other man say, “Frank, what’s with you…” I grabbed the one I shot and shoved him into his partner, knocking them both through our room door. As they fell on our floor, I shot the first guy in the groin.
Shooting someone in the groin tends to hurt like hell, but they usually don’t die right away from the wound. This one dropped the pistol he was holding and grabbed his crotch.
Hilary walked out of the bathroom holding a towel in front of her just as I came through the door. With a surprised look on her face, she smiled and said, “I take it we’re checking out?”
Lifting the dude with the groin problem by his hair, I said, “Not until I get some answers from this fucker.”
“I’m not telling you a fucking thing asshole.”
“Little early to be making rash statements, don’t you think? By the time I get through with you, you’ll be singing the National Anthem, trust me.”
Walking over to the dead guy, I emptied his pockets. He had a roll of hundreds that would have choked a horse. I threw the roll on the bed. His driver’s license gave his name a Stan Goldman. He was from College Park, Georgia. The rest of the stuff amounted to a pocket knife, a set of car keys, which I threw on the bed, along with the money. The car keys were the kind where you pushed a button to unlock the doors and another one to start the engine. It made it easy for me when I had to find the car.
I stood up and looked at the other guy holding his groin and said,” Okay
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