Jonnie strode two paces inside the door of Char’s room.
The muzzle of a submachine g*n jabbed into his left side!
A Brigante rose from behind a chair holding another Thompson grimly leveled.
Lars stood up from behind the bed, a blastpistol pointing at him.
“We are not here to kill you,” said Lars. He had worked this entire campaign out and added a few embellishments of his own. From all he had heard, this was a treacherous and dangerous criminal liable to do anything. To carry out his principal orders it was necessary to be very intelligent about this, as intelligent as Hitler would have been. “Just do as we request, and no harm will come to you. This is an entirely legal proceeding. You are under arrest by order of the council and these are council troops.”
Jonnie, as he entered, had
