Read Online The Widowmaker: Volume 1 in the Widowmaker Trilogy by Mike Resnick - Free Book Online
Authors: Mike Resnick
Ads: Link
his approval. “A good answer.” He sat down at the table, commandeered an empty glass, and poured himself a drink from the bottle he was carrying. “You want a question? I'll ask one.” The blue eyes bored into Nighthawk's own. “Who gave you permission to kill three of my men in my casino?"
"They went for their weapons first,” answered Nighthawk.
"Makes no difference,” said the Marquis. “They belonged to me, and you killed them.” He paused ominously. “How are you going to make that up to me?"
"Well, I suppose I could go out and recruit three more fools for you,” said Nighthawk.
"Are you calling my men fools?"
"Yes."
The Marquis stared at him for a long moment, then laughed aloud. “I like you, Jefferson Nighthawk!” He shook his head with mock sadness. “It grieves me to have to make an example of you."
"Then don't,” said Nighthawk.
"It can't be helped,” said the Marquis. “How long could I stay in business if I let everyone make advances to my woman and kill my men?"
"Longer than you can stay alive if you don't walk away,” said Nighthawk. He placed the muzzle of his laser pistol against the Marquis’ belly beneath the table, where no one else could see it.
The Marquis looked nonplused. “You're going to kill me in front of two hundred witnesses?"
"I'd rather not."
The Marquis chuckled. “I'll just bet you'd rather not."
"On the other hand, I don't plan to let you kill me in front of two hundred witnesses, either,” said Nighthawk.
"Put the pistol away,” said the Marquis. “I'm not armed."
"I'm told you're a man of your word,” said Nighthawk. “Promise not to kill me and I'll let you walk away."
"I can't promise that,” said the Marquis. “Who knows what the future holds?” He paused. “But I'll promise not to kill you today. Good enough?"
Nighthawk nodded.
The Marquis got up, turned his back, and began walking away—and just as Nighthawk thought the situation had been diffused, or at least postponed, he felt his arms being grabbed and twisted behind his back, and he was yanked painfully to his feet, held motionless by half a dozen men.
"It's nice to have friends,” said the Marquis as he turned back to Nighthawk. “Of course, you wouldn't know about that, would you?"
Nighthawk grimaced, and for a moment his gaze fell on Malloy, who hadn't moved since the Marquis had entered the room.
"Him?" said the Marquis with a contemptuous laugh. “That's not a friend, that's a parasite."
"Let me go, and you'll be surprised how few friends I need,” said Nighthawk.
"The bravado of youth!” said the Marquis, amused. “Half adrenaline, half testosterone, and totally foolish."
He nodded to two of his men, who quickly removed Nighthawk's visible weapons, frisked him for hidden ones, and came away with two knives and a small sonic pistol.
"You have an impressive number of toys,” observed the Marquis. “Now that we've removed them, perhaps you'll tell me why you were looking for me."
Nighthawk glanced around, found himself surrounded by a hostile crowd of men and aliens, and then looked back at the Marquis.
Think fast. What would he have done?
"I have a business proposition for you,” he said at last.
"Well, it's fortunate I came by when I did, isn't it?” said the Marquis. “Before you had totally decimated my customers, that is."
"I thought it might get your attention,” admitted Nighthawk.
"Oh, it did that, young Jefferson,” said the Marquis. “You offer whiskey to my woman, and instead of announcing your presence like a normal visitor, you kill three of my men. It certainly does attract my attention.” He paused and stared at Nighthawk. “Just what is it that you want?"
"Hire me."
"I beg your pardon?"
"I'm better than any twenty men you've got,” said Nighthawk. “And I'll only charge you what you pay ten of ‘em."
The Marquis stared at him with an amused expression. “I can't decide whether you're very young or very foolish."
"I'm very
"They went for their weapons first,” answered Nighthawk.
"Makes no difference,” said the Marquis. “They belonged to me, and you killed them.” He paused ominously. “How are you going to make that up to me?"
"Well, I suppose I could go out and recruit three more fools for you,” said Nighthawk.
"Are you calling my men fools?"
"Yes."
The Marquis stared at him for a long moment, then laughed aloud. “I like you, Jefferson Nighthawk!” He shook his head with mock sadness. “It grieves me to have to make an example of you."
"Then don't,” said Nighthawk.
"It can't be helped,” said the Marquis. “How long could I stay in business if I let everyone make advances to my woman and kill my men?"
"Longer than you can stay alive if you don't walk away,” said Nighthawk. He placed the muzzle of his laser pistol against the Marquis’ belly beneath the table, where no one else could see it.
The Marquis looked nonplused. “You're going to kill me in front of two hundred witnesses?"
"I'd rather not."
The Marquis chuckled. “I'll just bet you'd rather not."
"On the other hand, I don't plan to let you kill me in front of two hundred witnesses, either,” said Nighthawk.
"Put the pistol away,” said the Marquis. “I'm not armed."
"I'm told you're a man of your word,” said Nighthawk. “Promise not to kill me and I'll let you walk away."
"I can't promise that,” said the Marquis. “Who knows what the future holds?” He paused. “But I'll promise not to kill you today. Good enough?"
Nighthawk nodded.
The Marquis got up, turned his back, and began walking away—and just as Nighthawk thought the situation had been diffused, or at least postponed, he felt his arms being grabbed and twisted behind his back, and he was yanked painfully to his feet, held motionless by half a dozen men.
"It's nice to have friends,” said the Marquis as he turned back to Nighthawk. “Of course, you wouldn't know about that, would you?"
Nighthawk grimaced, and for a moment his gaze fell on Malloy, who hadn't moved since the Marquis had entered the room.
"Him?" said the Marquis with a contemptuous laugh. “That's not a friend, that's a parasite."
"Let me go, and you'll be surprised how few friends I need,” said Nighthawk.
"The bravado of youth!” said the Marquis, amused. “Half adrenaline, half testosterone, and totally foolish."
He nodded to two of his men, who quickly removed Nighthawk's visible weapons, frisked him for hidden ones, and came away with two knives and a small sonic pistol.
"You have an impressive number of toys,” observed the Marquis. “Now that we've removed them, perhaps you'll tell me why you were looking for me."
Nighthawk glanced around, found himself surrounded by a hostile crowd of men and aliens, and then looked back at the Marquis.
Think fast. What would he have done?
"I have a business proposition for you,” he said at last.
"Well, it's fortunate I came by when I did, isn't it?” said the Marquis. “Before you had totally decimated my customers, that is."
"I thought it might get your attention,” admitted Nighthawk.
"Oh, it did that, young Jefferson,” said the Marquis. “You offer whiskey to my woman, and instead of announcing your presence like a normal visitor, you kill three of my men. It certainly does attract my attention.” He paused and stared at Nighthawk. “Just what is it that you want?"
"Hire me."
"I beg your pardon?"
"I'm better than any twenty men you've got,” said Nighthawk. “And I'll only charge you what you pay ten of ‘em."
The Marquis stared at him with an amused expression. “I can't decide whether you're very young or very foolish."
"I'm very
Similar Books
