Powerhouse ran down the hall in the office building.
Where did the shoulder rocket guy go?
A rocket came towards his position. He flew past it as it exploded on the back wall, creating a fire behind him. The man with the rocket appeared ahead, running. The guy pressed a button and disappeared again.
Ah ha. One of those.
Two can play this game.
Jones met his assailant’s gaze without flinching. “Why are you doing this?”
“You’re in the way of business.”
“Drug business, I assume.”
The truth flickered in his assailant’s eyes. Jones clucked his tongue. Marcos Silva himself, he’d wager. “You destroy lives with that stuff. Do you really want that on your soul come judgment day, Marcos?”
“Reverend, don’t preach at me.”
Jones laughed. “Or what; you’ll kill me? You can have a better life. It doesn’t have to be killing and death. God loves you. If you’ll turn to Him, he’ll save your soul from Hell.”
Marcos cocked his gun. “Say hi to God for me.”
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