37 Click! Click! Click! Click! The look on Klaus’ face as it registers this moment of realisation and panic, well, it’s priceless. This bad boy, such a killer, proving to be the very thing he professes to hate: an amateur. He didn’t count his bullets. I run to him, sword high in the air. Just a couple more metres and I’ll be kicking his decapitated head into the river. He drops his pistol and reaches behind himself. I need to close the distance before he throws a knife at me. I’m almost upon him. I swing my sword at his throbbing neck. He recoils. Clang! Steel meets steel and our swords make an X as our bodies tense in position. I leap backwards. His face has returned to its default position: smirking arsehole. Now he’s the one enjoying the shock that’s surely registering on my fac

