for his kid’s Christmas present. Then, he saw the gun and swung.

Genghis jumped into the backseat of the Thunderbird so Jennifer could sit up front. Jeff started the engine as Jennifer turned on the heater. “Boy, it’s cold tonight!” They pulled out of the parking lot and turned north on 9th Street, heading for home. Just then, an alarm started sounding in the cruiser. Jennifer looked around the car. “What the hell is that?”

Genghis leaned his head in between the front bucket seats and said, “Mainframe online.”

The hologram of the cruiser's computer console appeared around Jennifer. “Whoa! I didn’t know it could do that.”

“Twink, see that flashing icon in the upper right corner?” Genghis said. “Go ahead and touch it for me, will yah.” It was a radio transmission from the Westberry Police Department.

Bollar wasn’t sure what was happening. He couldn’t bring the A56 to bear, he was being hit over and over again by a guy shouting that he was the Old Town Gunman. Then, a patron the size of a wall started punching him in the face, which didn’t help his head that was already pounding. Bollar tried to pull the trigger, but the safety on the A56 was still on. People were screaming as others joined the fray. The lanky girl at the register had a broom and was hitting him with it. More people and more fists, as well as kicks to his legs and stomach. Then came the kick to the groin.

What the hell? Bollar thought his head hurt! He had never felt such pain. The shock of the blow sent fire throughout his body. Why would human males have such parts on the outside of the body? He finally switched the safety off his A56 and fired a burst into the floor, scattering the mob. That gave him the opportunity to run. Or at least to hobble quickly.

He made his way outside to his car that was still running. His right eye was swollen and his insides were still on fire. His head was throbbing badly, more than ever before. He got in and threw the car in gear and gunned it forward over the curb and onto the sidewalk. He then turned sharply for the road, hitting a mailbox. The tires squealed loudly as they gripped asphalt.

Jeff was driving fast to the address that Genghis gave him. “It’s not like Bollar not to use the Interrupter.” Jeff said. “This may not be him.” They turned a corner onto First Avenue just in time to see a car smacking into a mailbox as it got onto the road and rocked past them. Jeff, Genghis and Jennifer all watched the driver as the car passed and all three shouted, “That’s him!” Jeff spun the Thunderbird around and started to pursue.

Bollar saw the vintage car as he passed it. “No! No! Not the IPF. I don’t need this now!” Maybe the agent didn’t see him, Bollar thought as he looked into his rear view mirror and saw that the vehicle was turning around. Bollar couldn’t take his eyes off the IPF. How was he going to shake him off and get out of this damn town? Bollar’s car started drifting to the left and hit the curb. He lost control of the speeding car and started fishtailing. He tried hitting the brakes, but it was too late. He hit a concrete telephone pole with a sickening metallic crash. Lights in the surrounding businesses momentarily flickered.

Chapter Sixty-Five

Bollar hit the steering wheel hard as steam shot from the nose of the crushed front end and blood shot from his broken nose. He staggered out of the car as he saw a small flame in the engine compartment. He shook off the fog in his head and started running for the establishment that was in front of him.

Trent braked hard and brought the Thunderbird to a stop as they saw Bollar run into the Starlite Club. Genghis and Jeff jumped out to pursue him. Jennifer got out as well and started running with them, but stopped and called to them, “I’ll get the duffle bag!” The bag was now always in the backseat of the Thunderbird, just in case. She ran back and grabbed the duffle bag from the floor of the backseat and started after them again.

Bollar got into the dark front foyer of the club and ran right into a very large doorman who most likely doubled as the club’s bouncer. He was getting up from his chair and said over the din of music, “We’re at capacity! Come back later! Do you need a doctor?”

Bollar could not hear what he said over the dance music, but didn’t care and didn’t have the time. He reached into his coat, buried the muzzle of the A56 Auto Loaded into the doorman’s stomach, and fired three quick shots. The doorman’s body jerked with the impacts. Bollar grabbed him and led his dying body back to his chair and dropped him into it. Then, he quickly walked into the club.

Jeff and Genghis swung the club's door open and entered. They immediately saw the doorman slumped in his chair, a pool of blood forming at his feet. They continued into the club.

The Starlite Club was packed. Loud techno dance music thundered from the surround-sound’s speaker system. Strobe lights flashed in time with the music as spot lights spun back and forth through the bluish haze that hung in the air. The dance floor was recessed two feet down in the center of the club, surrounded by a decorative railing. The left and right perimeter surrounding the dance floor had a walkway lined with crowded tables and standing patrons trying to talk over the music. The walkways then continued to the large back section of the club where more tables stood along with a staircase that led to the second floor loft overlooking the dance floor.

Jeff and Genghis had a hard time seeing until their eyes adjusted

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