Virtual Ink December 2013//January 2014 | Page 20

“So what do I call you, mademoiselle?” Remy asked, trying to catch up to her. “Allise, just Allise,” she replied. “Allise eh? Well, Allise, where we heading?” “To the Broad Daslim bar. I'm sure we'll find the man who owns this pin there. And, judging by this pin, the man is somewhat wealthy or tied to someone else’s wealth.” “You got all that from me and that wee thing?” Allise looked up at him. In the sunlight it was easier to see him in more detail. “Well, this pin is French, and we don't get a lot of French people here. When you mentioned Broad, I remembered there was only one place called this.” Remy just nodded. Allise knew they were getting closer. “Why must you find these men?” Remy asked once more. “I'll explain that later. We are here.” Remy looked around. It was located on a fancy part of the four-way street. Across from them sat the Broad Daslim bar. Men were going in and out, and it seemed to be a hotspot for the ruthless of all people. They both walked over, crossing the street. Before they got to the bar, Allise stopped Remy by grabbing his arm. She pulled him a little closer, whispering in his ear. “Now when we get in here, don't say a word. Let me talk to the owner. You look around and see if you remember anyone from the other night. Yes?” Remy nodded. Allise went in first, pushing the door open. Everyone's eyes were on her and Remy. The air felt tense, but Allise paid the other patrons no mind. Her focus was on the bartender. She walked over to the bar with a steady pace. The tender stood there, shining a glass. “May I help you, lass?” he asked kindly. She smiled at him. “Yes I just wanted to ask you if you've seen this pin before. I found it earlier today.” She handed the man the pin. He held it up to the light, studying its shimmering texture. “This definitely belongs to a French person,” he said, setting it down on the bar counter. “So you've seen it before?” He scratched his head. “Well, actually, yes I have. I saw a man here the other night. Of course he wasn't from around here, and I didn't know where the bloke was from, or at least I didn’t until I saw this. This symbol is the mark of a wealthy French man. They say he's the most ruthless of all his kind, takes care of anyone that makes bad deals with him.” But if this French man made a bad deal with McCarty, then what does my brother have to do with this? Allise wondered silently. Before she could speak any further, Remy put his hand on her arm. “He's here,” Remy whispered in her ear, leaning over. Allise's eyes grew wide. She turned around. The man was sitting in the far corner, watching them. Then, he sprung up and pulled a gun out of his suit coat. Allise grabbed Remy, pulling him down to the floor. In that second, the man fired. The bullet hit glass, scattering pieces across the counter. “The man was sitting in the far corner, watching them.” The man bolted to the back door. Allise shot up and ran after him, her gun at the ready. Remy ran behind her. Throwing open the back door, she looked around the back alley. As she examined down the left side, Remy pulled her back in. A bullet zoomed past her head, hitting the brick wall of the building. “Thank you,” she said quickly. She leaned back out, firing at the right part of the alley. After a few shots, she could hear the man stumbling and cursing to himself. Finally, she and Remy ran out the door way and headed to the corner of some wooden crates. When they got there, the man was running down the second alley, disappearing to the left. Allise could feel her heart beating rapidly as they fol- 20