Mr. Goatee and his three henchmen moved into the middle of the room, nudging tables out of the way to clear a path for themselves. Every man wore a baton on his belt, a long, metal truncheon that fell almost to his knee. If there had been any doubt that these guys were the hired muscle Teryl had mentioned, it vanished the instant Jack saw those weapons.
The restaurant employees shied away. Any elation they might have felt was gone. Now, they were all afraid again. Well, that would change soon enough. They needed a victory. “Stay back,” Jack cautioned them. “Leave this to me.”
His coworkers moved away, pressing themselves against the walls, forming a box at the edges of the room. They didn’t want to leave him, but they didn’t want to fight either. He couldn’t blame them.
Anna looked at h
