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September 26, 2006

Stacy: The Bargain

Mia darted into the cloakroom and slammed the lock home. She stood, panting for breath, trying to comprehend why one of Anton's assassins was at the bar, looking for her. She hadn't done anything...lately. But he'd totally deserved it.

Her eyes roamed around the graffitti-scrawled room, looking for an escape, a shotgun, anything. Her eyes lit on words written in elegant copperplate, out of place as a fluffy bunny.

"Problems? Call 555-2365 to make them disappear. Terms reasonable."

The door shuddered behind her as a booted foot slammed against it. Shaking, she took out her cell phone and dialed.

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