Page 81 of Boxed In

oOo

“It’s Decorah Security,” Luke said, his voice weak. “Frank Decorah and Brand Marshall.”

“What happened?” Frank asked.

“My boss, Carl Peterbalm, shot Luke,” Olivia answered.

Frank swore, then looked from Olivia to Luke and back again. “I guess we can’t call the cops.”

“Right,” Luke agreed.

Brand jerked his head toward Peterbalm. “What do we do with him?”

“If we leave him, there’s no guarantee that he won’t go to the police and tell them we robbed him,” Luke answered. “And no proof that he shot me, because I’m not going to be here.”

“Then I guess we’d better take him with us,” Frank decided.

“Who the hell are you?” Carl demanded.

“The cavalry.” Frank took a step toward him.

Carl held up a hand as though he could push the Decorah chief away. “Now wait a minute. Leave me alone!”

Frank calmly shot Carl with an odd looking gun, and he wavered on his feet, then sank to the pavement.

“What did he do to him?” Olivia gasped.

“Shot him with a tranq gun. The anesthetic has an amnesiac effect.”

“And then what?”

“We'll hold him until we can figure it out,” Brand answered.

“Is that legal?”

“No. But neither is shooting someone, or importing stolen goods,” Frank said. He turned to Olivia, “By the way, I’m Luke’s boss, Frank Decorah. And this is one of my agents, Brand Marshall.”

“And Luke is still bleeding on the sidewalk,” Olivia said.

“Right. I’m going to cut his pants leg so I can see the wound,” Brand said.

“Okay.”

Frank looked at Olivia, “Keep watch.”

She moved to the front of the alley while Brand ran back to the car and pulled a first aid kit from the floor of the backseat. Then he hurried to Luke again.

Olivia moved to the end of the alley where she could see the sidewalk and the action in the alley

. oOo

Luke rested his head against the wall as Brand pulled out a penknife, opened it and cut away the bloody fabric. Luke felt perspiration bloom on his forehead. He groaned as Brand moved his leg.

“Sorry,” his friend muttered as he uncovered the injured area, which was in Luke’s calf. Blood still oozed from a visible hole. “I think it’s a flesh wound. But I’m not a doctor.”

“Okay.”

Luke winced as Brand pressed gauze squares to the wound. “Sorry,” he muttered, again.

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