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Bourbon On The Rocks #240


I knelt down next to Striker’s body and picked up his gun. I checked to make sure it still had some bullets left in it. It had two. I put it in my shoulder holster and felt around inside Striker’s jacket until I found the keys to the van that brought us up there, getting his warm blood all over my hands in the process. I used the end of his jacket to wipe them off.

I stood up and looked at Harrigan.

“Thanks, Jim,” I said.

He smiled, “We’ve got to stick together, Jake. That’s how we survive.”


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