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| S.I.C |
It was right there, they thought. At least, that’s how
they remembered it. But it wasn’t right there. Hours of roaming the city,
blinded by neon lights, and the two could simply not find it.
“You didn’t bring the card,” John said.
“Again?!” sighed Peter.
Suddenly, one wrong turn and there were four of them… The strike hit Peter on the temple.
“What are you looking for?” asked the stranger.
“Nothing,” replied John.
“Finish him off.”
A faint “No…” was muffled by the cold iron bar swooshing
in the air.
A card slipped from John’s back pocket saying Pigeons’ Bar.
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