Chapter 25
Jean
I set off a makeshift gas bomb to block the wheelhouse door, setting the fuel can against it and stepping back a good ways to shoot it twice. Pistol, flare g*n.
Boom.
Now there are four very pissed off mercenaries trapped in the fishbowl, trying to pound their way through the tough, thick glass with the butts of their rifles. It should take them about an hour.
I bound downstairs and know at once that I’ve gotten lucky; I hear Richard’s voice coming from a doorway about halfway down the hall. Then, the door starts opening.
I bolt down the hall and grab Gamble as he steps out, slamming his head hard against the wall. He whimpers anticlimactically and goes limp in my hands. I look down at him, frowning. “That’s it? God, wife-beaters are always such f*****g worms.”
“Jean
