Not even going to say much, as McDougal continues. To see if I can write something like this.
May you enjoy Part four.
Detective McDougal! Part Quattro
Shooting is not stopping and people drop to the floor. They don’t care who they kill, they are here for us, for Susan. She betrayed them, her very own sister, and I was the cause for her to stand up and walk away. This voice, this heartbeat is soothing, bringing me back to my calm self. Distant sirens tells us that the police in on their way.
“Thank you Susan, time to go…” With the gun ion my hand I peek around the corner across a floor filled with bodies. Ghostly faces stare back at me, eyes and mouth open with here and there a drop of blood being pulled down by gravity.
Six men dressed in black with a red tie around the neck the only colour. In the middle the soon to be new head of the syndicate, Susan’s twin sister Diane, smoking a cigarette and looking around the room. Her eyes look slim and straight at corner of the bar. I pull myself away from looking and braise myself for a fight. From the side I can hear more of them walking in the hall way. We are like a cornered cat, with but a single claw.
A quick look around shows me a way out, or so I hope and point my finger at the door hidden in a tight nook beside a bookcase oozing with booze from the broken bottles. Susan just nods and follows my lead. I say a quick prayer in my head hoping the door is unlocked and if not being a closed room we can’t get out of. A gentle ease I rotate the knob and hear it click open. I can push the door open and we sneak through, quietly closing the door behind us. Locking it with a simple twist.
Inside the room we stand on our feet and give our backs a stretch. At first glance the room seems closed of from the outside world. A large safe tucked in a corner at the back wall behind a large oak desk. Just like those old movies, the red carpet runs up to the wooden boarding. Small pictures of maybe family or they could be big names in crime are nailed here and there. The one thing standing out is a book case with books about art.
“Surely he didn’t have that much class, looking at this room” Susan chuckles. I small sign of relaxation, but we are not out of the woods yet. As the sounds of a door knob being turned quickly brings us back to reality.
A quick run around the desk and looking for something like a button or anything that could help us escape or stand to fight. Voices screaming outside the door “Come on out, there is nowhere to go”. Kicks and bangs against the door tell us time is running out. “How long before they start shooting at the door, you think Jerry”
“Not long, damn it there has to be a way out of here.”