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I really had to start learning something about guns. Or rather, I really had to stop getting myself into situations where it would be useful to know something more about guns.
“Get in the car,” the man closest to me said. I recognized him as the slightly taller and stockier of the Big Bads. He kept the gun steady on me—no gesturing. I was pretty sure he was a good enough marksman not to miss at a distance of eight feet, but I was also pretty sure my chances of surviving would drop precipitously as soon as I got in that car.
“I can understand your hesitation, but you should also realize that your chances of surviving if you don’t get in the car are zero. You’re worth nothing to us, except to the extent you’re worth something to Mr. Devereaux. If I kill you here, it will upset Mr. Deve
