This dumbass babbled way too much for a cop. A real policeman would tell her to get lost, slap a pair of cuffs onto Brel and shove him into the car. If Kez tried to interfere, they would arrest her too.
Gray Hair was behind her now, almost within arm’s reach. His face was blank, his dull eyes lacking any spark of emotion. This was a job to him. Nothing more.
Kez looked to Brel, wondering if he might shout a warning, but the poor bastard was petrified, unable to do anything but whimper.
“So, you see,” Mustache concluded. “That’s why I have to kill you.” He yanked his g*n out of its holster.
With a little Bent Gravity, Kez jumped and kicked the pistol out of his hand. She backflipped over the other man’s head, then dropped to the ground behind him, grabbing him and shoving him toward Mus
