Rodrigo Montana stood in front of an assembled group of goons, thugs, gunhands, and outlaws in Malarky's bar. It seemed that in the years since his "death" and the dissolution of the good boat Scarecrow, he'd assembled his own crew. There were four of them, aside from Rodrigo himself, and they all layedabout while he lectured at them. This was clearly more important to him than it was to them. "I mean it, if you let him pull on you, take cover. He's a good shot and quick."

One of them, Travis, a mean looking, wiry fellow, scoffed. "Can't be that fast. And he's just one dude." He leaned back in his chair and tipped back a beer. One of the benefits of hiding out in a bar was free booze.

"He is that fast and he is that good. Otherwise I'd be doing this myself. And i wouldn't need you idiots. Quit with the drinking. Need you sharp." Rodrigo leveled a warning finger at him, and the rest of them.

Another one, a big guy with dark skin named Moses piped up next. "I dunno, man. Travis is right. Seems like overkill to me. I get it's personal and all but c'mon."

Rodrigo's rage threatened to boil over, but he held it in check. He leaned in close to Moses, who seemed intimidated despite their difference in size. "Personal? It's not just personal. It's intimate. It's profound. It's...it's...it's... He tried to kill me, alright?" This didn't seem to impress the group much. They'd all likely had similar encounters if one were to go just on how they looked.

The third, a man of Asian heritage with long hair and the soulless eyes of a killer spoke next. His name was Jaka. "Is that how you got your scar?' He said, tracing his own long nailed finger down the side of his face, mimicking the mark on Rodrigo's.

Rodrigo was thrown off for a moment. "No. That's, um, from something else."

"Someone else who tried to kill you?"

"Sorta. It's kind of a long story."

"How many people have tried to kill you, Rigo?"

"A few. Listen, that's not the point... Rodrigo was losing control of the situation.

Barry, a big guy around the middle with a perpetually confused look on his face, finished it off."I don't get it. This Breene guy did or did not give you that scar?' He seemed to be taking this question very seriously.

Rodrigo stood back from all of them, his lips pursed, his patience worn. He took a deep breath. And let it out again. "It doesn't matter. None of that matters. You guys have your orders. We're going to kill Billy Breene. That's the end of it."

A voice called from outside. "Rodrigo Montana. I'm callin' you out, you sonofabitch." That voice was Billy Breene.

Rodrigo clapped his hands together and smiled. "Finally. Ok, it's showtime. You guys know what to do. Get into position."

Moses had a question. "What if he just shoots you on sight? You know, before we get into place?"

Rodrigo smiled. "He won't. That bastard likes to talk." The group disassembled, each of the other four disappearing into the building to follow Rodrigo's plan. The ringleader took a deep breath and checked the guns he cross-carried in shoulder holsters. "Oh man, Billy. How did you find me?" Rodrigo almost laughed. It was too easy.

Billy stood in front of Sam Malarky's and frowned, his brow likewise turning down at the question posed to him from inside the bar. "How did I-" He said, mostly to himself, the question's stupidity shocking him. "How did I find you? Rigo, we were here like an hour ago." Louder, this time. Breene shook his head and returned to a voice meant only for himself. "Idiot." He rested his hands on his guns and waited. "You comin' out? Or I gotta come in there again?"

Rodrigo was clearly stalling, but for what purpose?

"Yeah, I dunno. You got me at a disadvantage. I come out there, you shoot me as soon as you see me." Rodrigo said from inside.

Billy reckoned he was right. "Yeah." He said as he stared at the bar, trying to figure it out. What was his game?

"Glad you came alone, though, Bill. Man to man. That's the way it should be between old friends, don't you think?"

"Come out here and I'll give you a hug, amigo." A momentary rush of relief as Billy realized Rodrigo wasn't calling in reinforcements.

And still, Rodrigo didn't appear. "That sister of yours feeling better? I never would have hurt her. You know that isn't my style. Just needed to get your attention."

Billy was getting impatient. There was something here he was missing but he couldn't put his finger on it. What would he do in this situation? Come out blasting, that's what. But Rodriog was more careful than that. "Yeah, she's okay." Billy said, distracted. Attention! Rodrigo was distracting him! But from what?

Back at the not-a-brothel, Flora knocked softly on her own bedroom door and decided not to be annoyed by that. "Hey." She realized she didn't know the name of the girl in there. "Billy's sister, are you hungry or anything?" Flora didn't really have any food, but maybe they could go to the noodle shop next door. Billy had asked them not to leave but Flora figured it couldn't hurt, and he wasn't the boss of them.

No answer.

She knocked again. Louder. "Nyen Ching Duh?" Flora's heart sank. She threw open the door and found an empty room. Her eyes also found the drawer that usually carried her gun was empty as well. She sighed and looked out the window as the wind carried the drapes back and forth. "Yi Lu Shwen Fohn."

---

Sloane, gun held inexpertly in her hand, huffed it down the street, her destination clear. Malarky's. That same bar they'd been at before. Rodrigo had struck her as cunning and ruthless. He had a plan and he was going to see it through. Billy was not so strong in the imagination department. It was reasonable to assume that Rodrigo knew that about her brother, and would therefore pick an easy to find hiding place.

 She couldn't let Billy fight her battles for her. It went against everything her family had taught her. Everything they stood for. Now, she had no idea what she was going to do once she go there, but she'd be damned if she wasn't going to try. Her anxiety flared at the uncertainty, but equal amounts of adrenaline kept Sloane on her path. It occurred to her that maybe "calling in the cavalry" might be a good idea. But she her cortex device had been smashed and she didn't see any public terminals.

Plus, who would she call that wouldn't just be mad at her and Billy and demand she wait right there until they arrived? No, this was between her and Billy and that Rodrigo guy. Panic started to set in again, but she just focused on her running. One step at a time. Then the next. The aerobic exercise forced Sloan to fill her lungs and exhale again. It wasn't far now to Malarky's.

---

Travis, a submachine gun in hand, and Barry, armed with a shotgun, exited from the rear door of the bar and edged their way around the building, careful with their corners and cover. Moses and Jaka each had a window on the second floor, machine guns at the ready.

"Ready." Said Travis, over the radio.

"In position." Said Moses.

"On your signal." Said Jaka.

"When do we go?" Said Barry.

"On my signal." Said Rodrigo.

"What's the signal?"

"I'd also like to know the signal."

"Yeah."

"I'll just start shooting when everyone else starts shooting."

"Oh, yeah, ok. I'll do that, too."

"Works for me."

"But who starts?"

"I will."

"You'll what? Who is that?"

"Rodrigo."

"Oh, hey."

"Hi. I'll start."

"Start what?"

"Start shooting."

"Is that the signal?"

"I guess so!"

They started shooting.

Quick as he could, Billy pulled the Sisters and brought them to bear, the repeating mechanism of their design affording him six quick shots each as he scanned his surroundings looking for cover. Those shots might have been more useful if he'd had clear targets but, as it was, the only two he saw for sure were guys he didn't know were named Travis and Barry.

BLAMBLAM

Travis was first, his submachine gun spraying the air as he fell back against the edge of the building and lay dead.

BLAM

Barry took a shot to his substantial gut but kept on moving closer, his shotgun only useful if he stayed close to the retreating Billy. He locked and loaded another shell and took a bullet between the eyes for his effort.

Gunfire still poured out from the top windows, peppering the street behind Billy as he ran and found a garbage can to crouch behind. It proved to be little cover as the bullets sliced through its soft metal like butter. Billy rolled to his feet and aimed higher, hitting the building as he had Barry, between the windows and hitting nothing of particular substance.

Finally, a parked vehicle afforded him the safety he needed to figure out his situation and catch his breath for a moment; after diving haphazardly for cover of course and banging up his, well, everything. Once he was out of sight, the firing stopped and it grew strangely quiet. He pulled his hat from his head and wiped the sweat from his brow.

Billy checked the Sisters for ammo and found them low. "Dirty trick, Rodrigo." He said, calling between their distances once again. He hadn't started his day expecting a fight, so after this reload the slots on his belt were nearly done. "Man-to-man, huh?" Billy reckoned he was now outgunned a mere three-to-one, but that still meant he had to be careful. He closed the refilled cylinders on his guns and edged around the corner of the hovercar. He spotted a guy in one window, carefully concealed. The other was out of sight to him.

"I just knew you'd fall for it, Bill. I can't beat you in a fair fight, we both know that."

It might have taken an eruption of gunfire for Billy to figure out Rodrigo's plan, but at least he figured it out.

Gunfire echoed through the streets of New Dublin and the few passerby scattered and sought shelter at the sound of it. It was oddly quiet out today and then Sloane remembered it was a Bank Holiday. Everyone was home with their families; shops were closed; dinners were being had. Lucky for them, she supposed. Not so for the Breenes. She quickened her pace to her destination. She was nearly there. "Hang on, Billy."

---

Inside of the bar, Rodrigo edged his vision up into a window to see if he could get a glimpse of Billy Breene. He cursed his rotten luck and noted that next time he set a trap for his mortal enemy, he'd hire more qualified help. "Status report." He said through gritted teeth.

"Check."

"Check."

And that was it. "Travis. Barry. Check-in, gorammit." No response. "Anyone have eyes on Travis or Barry?"

"Negative."

"And Breene?"

"Ducked down behind a hover car about thirty yards out. Can't get a clean shot from here."

Rodrigo had hoped that Moses and Jaka would pin Breene down and then Travis and Barry would flank him and flush him out of cover. Of course, that had gone to shit quickly. The ringleader checked his watch. He reckoned they had another five to seven minutes before the authorities arrived. "Who had the ordinance?"

"Travis, I think."

Of course. And now they didn't have the Plan B grenades. This is exactly what he didn't want to happen. Rodrigo didn't like his plan C, which was using himself as bait, but he was out of options.

And then, a miracle happened.

"Hey, boss, we got incoming."

Rodrigo checked his watch again. Cops shouldn't be there for another five minutes or so.

"Billy!" The sound of Sloane Breene's voice echoed in the silence streets.

Rodrigo smiled. "Bingo."

"Gorrammit." Billy's heart dropped. "Sloane! Get down!" He knew those bastards in the windows were waiting for him to show his face and that as soon as he did they'd kill him for sure. But now, his baby sister was, presumably, out in the open for a couple of guys looking for something to shoot. A surreptitious peek revealed one of the gunmen leaning forward, his aim roughly in the direction of Sloan'e voice though Billy couldn't see his sister from where he crouched.

He took his shot, though, Sheila reaching out with prejudice and exploding the guy's head around her bullet. Billy heard more shots and felt the bullets winging all around him and into his cover, so Billy assumed the remaining machine gunner had kept his focus aimed towards him. "Your advantage don't seem so... advantageous now, does it?" Billy regretted the poor rejoinder immediately but he had other things on his mind. Namely, where the hell his sister went. He had edged around the other side of the vehicle and tried to get a glimpse of where she'd ducked down, assuming she'd taken his advice. "Sloane? Where are ya?"

There was no answer.

"Sloane!?"

"I popped her, Bill. She's dead."

Billy's blood went cold. "No..." He set his jaw. "I don't believe you." He searched his feelings, trying to get a sense if he thought or felt anything. But he came up blank because he wasn't a psychic. Those don't exist.

"Believe it or not, it's true. You gonna do something about it?"

"You bet your ass I am." Billy took a couple of deep breaths and popped up, the Sisters outstretched, extensions of his own arms. The triggers pulled, peppering the upstairs window where a gunman still stood, covering his movements out from cover. A body fell back, hopefully out of the fight. He dove over the hood of the hover car, sliding across awkwardly and tumbling to the ground on the other side. Gunfire pierced the steel and concrete around him, but failed to find flesh. His eyes scanned the area and didn't see his sister anywhere, neither confirming or denying Rodrigo's claims.

As he approached the bar, the front door opened and Rodrigo stepped out, a gun in hand. Billy raised the Sisters and fell into a slide, trying to avoid Rodrigo's shot. Simultaneously, Sloane stepped out from around the corner, Flora's gun in hand. They all fired in unison.

Rodrigo's shot hit nothing but air as Billy ducked beneath.

Billy's guns clicked empty as he skidded to a stop.

Sloane's shot hit home in the back of Rodrigo's head.

Everything went quiet. Rodrigo stared at Billy, as if he didn't comprehend what was happening. He turned and saw Sloane, holding a gun, but he didn't look surprised. He nodded, instead, as if it all made sense. He blinked and took a step, as if making sure he still could. And then he fell, as if the force holding him up suddenly gave out.

Sloane dropped the gun and looked at her brother, eyes wide and filled with tears. "Hey." She said.

Billy, shocked at how everything panned out, laid his head back on the pavement. "Hey." He breathed, glad that his sister was alive and Rodrigo was dead. "That was a nice shot."

Sloane gulped. "Thanks." She was beginning to lose it.

Billy noticed and popped up to wrap her in a hug. "First one is hard. You done good, Slowpoke."

Sloane let him embrace her, too shocked to reciprocate, but grateful for his warmth. "I don't want to do it again."

"That's good." He chuckled. "Shame though, you're pretty good at it."

"Don't say that." Sloane laughed, despite herself.

"Okay."