Arabella knocked on the polished wood of the bar. "Southern Comfort and something with which to kill this guy behind me." She smiled and then drew her gun when his hand slid onto her neck. "Nevermind, this'll do just fine." Once again, Arabella Porter's revolver was pressed into the chest of Thomas Dunning. "Give me the warrant papers or I'll shoot."
"I don't have them. I wouldn't have those privileges in foreign skies and soils." He held his hands half way up in surrender, looking… Continue