Eleven? Twelve? He could check, but he didn’t have time. He had to make it to the dumpster. Or he was dead. Assume twelve. That means three rounds ...eft. I’ve got to make it to the dumpster. He took a deep breath. The Package was at his feet. That’s what he called him: The Package. No point getting personal. They wouldn’t know each other for long. He might even be dead soon. Who knew? No point being on a first name basis with a corpse. ‘Get the fuck up,’ he said. ‘We have to make it to the. ” Initially Dan smiled and then let his smile grow to a soft chuckle. He considered what he knew was LF’s deliberate use of the Baby endearment Laura and he always used with each other. Dan’s smile turned in to a belly shaking guffaw. “I reserve Baby for Laura but how about if I use Honey for you as I do Artsy and you two can sort it out or both respond and I will have a Honey on each arm?” “Oh Dan, you’re drippy enough as it is. Let’s just stick with what has worked for us all these years.”. More

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