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the exit and
swiped the security badge, but when the door slid open, it revealed two burly
security guards with guns already leveled and an upper management businessman
behind them. “Hold it, fellows,” Randolph held up a
hand, thinking fast, “she’s just…” He got no further as Jill swiped his feet
out from under him. As Randolph’s eyes filled in panic, his arms wind-milled in
an effort to reduce the damage he could sustain in a backward fall or at the
very least minimize the painful event by landing on Jill. But she had already
cleared Randolph’s reach and once he crashed to the floor, she grabbed and
twisted his arm, forcing Randolph to roll on to his stomach or have it broken.
“ Oww !” he exclaimed in disbelief, feeling the holster
relieved of its weapon.
    Once she had him disarmed, Jill let
Randolph go just as quickly as she had dropped him and backed away, pointing
the gun, and announced, “ It’s okay guys. He’s
harmless.”
    “Uh?” Randolph
exclaimed as he rolled carefully to his side and looked about the group.
    “So, Major, how’d our boy do?” the
businessman in the 3,000-credit blue and gray suit asked Jill.
    “Up until Larry in the elevator, he did
quite well,” Jill answered, motioning with the point of the gun that Randolph
should slowly get up.
    Randolph did as directed with an eye on the
four of them. The two guards, however, waited till he stood before they holster
their guns and seized Randolph’s arms while Jill and the suit watch him. I’ve been snookered, Randolph
acknowledged. And a right good job of it. But why? He then took note of Jill’s nonchalant
attitude with the gun as she aimlessly patted the barrel against her thigh.
    “Okay, men,” the businessman said as he
stepped up to Jill’s side. “Take care of Larry and make certain his jacket
reflects his poor abilities before firing him and also fire Pete down in the
cells with some remarks reflecting his ineptitude.”
    “Yes, Mr. Bennett,” one of the two said
while both let go to carry out their orders.
    With a look of uncertainty on his face,
Randolph looked to Mr. Bennett, who talked in a tone of superiority. “Be of
ease, Mr. McCann. If you’ll precede Jill to my office, I’ll see about clearing
up some of your understandable confusion.”
    Randolph looked over to Jill, who motioned
with her easily-acquired gun to take the lead, but also gave him a no non-sense
look which spoke louder than words she’d use it without hesitation. So walking
in silence, Randolph entered an elevator, then stepped off on the thirtieth
floor into a world of cubical people, phones, computers and the countless other
activities any thriving business depended upon. Reminded of the gun which
Randolph had seen readjusted to lethal by a flick of Jill’s thumb, Randolph
walked besides a glass wall which separated them form the corporate activity
till the suit in front came to a mahogany door which read *Mel Bennett, Senior
Floor Executive of Research and Development.*

Chapter Five
    You
can always tell how important a man is by his office, Randolph quoted to himself as he walked into Mr. Bennett’s outer office, which
was complete with stylish metal and plastic-glass waiting chairs. Wall hangings
and cool bluish-white walls told of a modern thinker who was more interested
with the future than the owners who always used earth tones. Passing a true
secretary instead of the eye candy the codgers and dead-end managers used,
Randolph, Bennett and Jill stepped into Mr. Bennett’s private office, decorated
in the same manner.
    “If you’ll take a seat, Mr. McCann, I’ve a
few questions before we begin to enlighten you.” Mr. Bennett motioned, rounding
his smoky-glass desk.
    Randolph did as told, while he noted Jill
took the chair next to the wall as if out of habit.
    “So tell me,” Mr. Bennett asked with
curiosity in his voice as he settled himself, “why didn’t you kill the guard?”
    “Uh, come again?” Randolph