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Ali-St - Roses of Colour — Description
Chapter 2; Heated Argument

Now in Antilles, business for Dyl's bar could never be described as thriving. It had barely been business. Dyl had, what he called, an unfairly gained reputation for watering down the drinks. Amy remembered that conversation quite well. It had been a hard day and Amy had got a well deserved drink, on the house.
"Baaah!" Amy had spat out the vile liquid. "Are you trying to kill me?" She asked Dyl.
Dyl was trying to clean glasses at the time, a rather pointless action. "No," he replied, not looking up from a particularly disgusting looking glass, as if fascinated by the intricate pattern of filth that extended from top to bottom of the cylinder ."Should I be?"
Amy avoided the question. If he any real idea of who she was, he would probably try. "That is definitely not what I ordered."
Dyl peered in the glass. "Yes, it is."
"No, it isn't." She replied stubbornly.
"Yes, it is. Gin, on the rocks with a splash of lemonade and a twist of lime; it's all in there." He told her.
"You failed to mention the dog hair and mouldy orange juice on the ingredients list."
"That drink is perfect. 'Had limes brought in specially, they cost me a bloody fortune."
"Shame you're wasting it in that, though." She peered at him suspiciously. "Those rumours about your service aren't true, are they?"
Dyl stared blankly at her. "What rumours?"
"That you water down the drinks." She crossed her arms and placed them on the bar.
His eyes went wide with what Amy knew to be mock surprise. "You don't think I, a respectable businessman, would do something like that?"
She snorted. "Respectable, my butt! I know you."
Dyl kept up the charade for a few more seconds then laughed. "You do as well."
"You know," she began, "you probably shouldn't water down the drinks. It would probably increase business."
"Do you know how much it costs to get good alcohol down here? Besides, it's not like I'm gonna get 'sued' or anything."
That was the beginning of that argument. It had lasted a while. They still discussed it sometimes.
Amy sighed. The drinks were always so bad if he watered them down. But he didn't even listen anymore.
The business today was quite good, plenty of new customers, soon to get scared by Dyl's foul drinks. Dyl was her friend, but sometimes you just have to face up to facts. The old customers were here too, only heavens knew why. Dyl had surprised Amy the other day by suggesting that the reason business had increased so much over the last few months was because of her increasingly frequent performances. That little piece of flattery was probably just Dyl being Dyl, but she was getting more money from the tips recently and people were requesting her own songs rather than traditional songs. As a favour, Amy only performed for Dyl, giving him that extra edge that he needed to avoid bankruptcy.
Amy was sat at the bar surveying the crowd when she glimpsed something different, a face that clearly didn't spend much time in Antilles.
Amy knew most of the citizens by sight and you could tell who was and who wasn't local. Their appearance, bearing and general demeanour gave it away. Outsiders' strange mannerisms and emotions shrieked louder that gunfire that they were not comfortable in their surroundings.
The man Amy had spotted was definitely uncomfortable. He kept fidgeting and was quite obviously trying to hide something under the table. He also seemed to be developing a nervous twitch in his eyelid. Not the most attractive of habits. His clothes were made of a black, ill fitting cloth that suggested that he had lost a lot of weight recently, or just had a really bad tailor. His dark hair was greasy and a few strands hung in front of his face. He kept flicking his head back as if to get rid of these annoying strands, but they came back with some sort of sadistic vengeance. What scared Amy most, however, was his skin. It looked dead, as if drained of all colour and life. It looked grey under the flickering lights. His eyes were very bright and moved quickly around the room. He looked extremely nervous.
Amy shook her head. This was not the place for fidgety strangers.
Without knowing why, Amy's mind flashed back to the three travellers that had visited her. Well, visited, she decided was very selfish way of putting it and quite misleading. She sat pensively for a moment. It was almost like they had been looking for her. She recalled the crestfallen look on their faces when she had told them 'no'. It's not like she could have made any difference. The words 'we need you' rang in her head. But what could Amy do? It's not like she could organise their way to victory.
And why did she feel guilty? She had chosen this life, had wanted this life. A life not clouded by politics and war. A life not filled with intrigue and threats. She had wanted to be normal.
Amy looked around the bar. This was her life, Dyl, that tiny stage and the bookshop. Some destiny. She would live in this hidden community in the heart of the space station. All in fear of discovery by the surface dwellers. And she could have gotten away from it all, taken the moral high road, stand up for her people.
But no, she had chosen to say here in this piece of trash floating purposelessly in the sky. She had said no because she was scared, because she was scared of things that go bump in the night. She had said no because she was frightened of people discovering who she had been. What she was, it ate away at her, forcing her to keep secrets and tell lies. And that secret, her terrible past was making her stay.
She would have been stepping into a whole new world. And that world was full of unfamiliar dangers and filled with strangers. People she couldn't trust and could never understand. She had said no because she was a coward. A silly feeble-brained coward.
A shake from Dyl brought Amy back to reality. "You're on in twenty minutes." She checked her watched. Yep, twenty minutes to seven. The bar opened at five and already people were waiting for her.
"Thanks for the head's up."
"Welcome." He paused. "You okay?" he asked. His concern showed through his usually sour face.
She made another attempt to sound casual. "Yeah."
Dyl didn't say anything after that; Amy thought that was just fine. She didn't need Dyl bumbling about in her feelings when she had work to do.
She walked quickly to her improvised dressing room cleverly disguised as the broom cupboard. It was an almost fool proof disguise; it was broom cupboard. Almost fool proof because they are always stupid, suspicious fools wandering around the place that might be struck by a moment of brilliance, as random and dangerous as a stray lightning bolt. And like a lightning bolt, it would probably fry their brain, but I digress.
Amy got ready. It didn't take long. Her dress that night was a silky dark blue strapless job. That night was just like any other, same customers, same mood, and the same time. But to Amy, something felt different. As if a big cloud was hovering over tonight's performance, brewing a storm that would tear someone's life apart.
Even after months of practice, Amy felt that momentary flash of fear. But it was normal.
She went on stage, staring at the audience looking expectantly up at her. They were all waiting. For her.
She sang a song they didn't know. One of her own actually.
It is difficult to tell, as a performer; it's going down well or not. Laughter is a good sign, if the piece is meant to be funny. Applause is the best and whistling is great. But at first you never can tell. If there is no reaction at all, it wavers your confidence.
During the spare few moments between the songs, Amy took a peek out of the curtains and saw a figure covered in shadow at the back staring at her. The figure watched with a seemingly flippant attitude throughout the evening.
Nonetheless, the night went perfectly. She got a considerate amount of tips and Dyl gave her a big thumbs up from the bar. Someone at the back threw a red rose. A fresh rose. She caught it and smelled the beautiful flower. It reminded her of home. She felt tears come to her eyes. Amy wanted to meet whoever had thrown that.
Later that evening, Amy was sitting at the bar considering waitressing. She wouldn't mind more money, and Dyl was in need of a hand. The bar was booming. Maybe he was finally taken her advice of stopping watering the drinks.
Dyl was too busy to ask if he wanted a hand so she grabbed an apron anyway and served tables.
She was still doing that when the pair arrived. She would remember it for the rest of her life.
They were both men. The first was tall, maybe six foot, lanky and he had what could only be described as a clever, almost ferret like face. His hair was long, dark blonde and was tied in a pony tail. A small bulge under his jacket made Amy stiffen and her chin drop to the ground. It was a gun.
The second man had a similar bulge. He was slightly taller, bulkier and his skin marked him as African American descent. His black hair was cut short, a buzz cut almost. From Amy's view, the pair wore almost identical clothing, black gear.
Amy stood near the bar watching them as they looked around. Somebody nudged her elbow and she turned, it was Dyl.
"Do me a favour? Go serve those two." He pointed to the pair she had been staring at.
"But, Dyl . . ."
"But what? Please, you're waitressing anyway and I'm short staffed."
Amy muttered a grumpy affirmative. She approached the pair cautiously, not really eager to talk to the people with concealed weapons. Those concealed weapons could turn her into a wet, squishy puddle.
Quietly, and trying to avoid detection, Amy eavesdropped. Their voices were low and even indistinct at first. She strained so hard to hear them; she thought her eardrums would burst. She eventually managed to distinguish the two men's voices from the others.
"Looks like a nice enough place, I suppose." The blond said. He looked around at the harsh surroundings.
"If you like back alley bars." The other replied. He turned towards the door. "He's not gonna be here. Let's find another place, Jord."
"No, we stay. We have to be here. Do you really want to annoy the captain first day out of base? I don't want to go on report because you didn't like the décor of the bar." His companion, presumably 'Jord', replied.
Amy pulled in a sharp breath and covered it by fumbling at her waist. They were freedom fighters! Well, she told herself irritably, what else would they be?
The second man shifted uncomfortably. "Let's just get on with the assignment, okay?"
Jord only grunted in reply.
Meanwhile, Amy began to get worried and a little bit scared. She didn't want freedom fighters finding her again. Should Dyl be warned about them? What if they started to cause trouble with the locals? And who were the others? What assignment? A ball of fear began to twist in her stomach, but she violently suppressed it. If they caused trouble, Dyl would have the shotgun.
But as Amy turned, the second, taller (and slightly scarier) man grabbed her arm and she jumped. A million plans of action leaped into her head at once, each as stupid and pointless as the last. The one that stuck in her head was the one were she stamped on his foot and kneed him in somewhere very unpleasant. But the reasonable part of her mind and the most ignored part told her to get a grip and stay calm
"Hey, you work here?" he asked, letting go of her arm.
Amy let out a hastily drawn breath and nodded.
"Hey, we're looking for a scrawny guy . . . umm, greasy, kind of dead looking." Jord told her.
Finally, Amy found her voice and was surprised by its bravery. "Drinks a lot, gives lousy tips and shakes like an earthquake?"
The second man grinned.
She pointed to the table were the man sat. "You want that table right over there, you see? Can I get you anything?"
"No, we're good." The nameless one stalked off, leaving Jord staring into her eyes. Amy looked uncomfortably away. Jord smiled briefly and walked off.
She let out an explosive breath. They had to get out of here as fast as possible. Amy sat shaking, on a bar stool. It was so much like the time so many months before. It was the strangest feeling, like déjà vu almost.
She walked over to the table and again asked whether they wanted anything. They did not reply. They weren't even talking to each other.
She walked away, spooked.
The feeling didn't go away as the evening continued. Eventually, it gave Amy a headache. That feeling of danger and invading threat still lingered over her head, drilling into the back of her skull. It hovered at the edge of her consciousness. It refused to budge. But, Amy thought, better to be safe and paranoid than sorry.
So throughout the evening, she eavesdropped. A lot. It wasn't the most honourable way to get information but it was the fastest. Besides, it was the only plan that seemed the most logical and was the least likely to get her turned into the wet, squishy puddle mentioned above.
She didn't tell Dyl what she knew, for fear he would do something stupid and get himself killed.
Amy didn't want to think about her own mortality right now.
The snippets of conversation she managed to get did not make sense. The most common words were "operation, money, betrayal" and "idiot". Amy did not know who the last applied to, and she didn't want to find out.
She almost lost interest until one of them mentioned a name she recognised. Amy was cleaning a table close to theirs when it happened. She listened intently.
"If you don't tell us now, Halley will come down and drag is out of you anyway. And you won't like that one bit." Jord told the fidgety man.
"I'm not afraid of any woman." He spat by way of reply. But he did look apprehensively around, as if Halley might come at him from anywhere.
"You should be, Akkad." The darker man told him, leaning in. "Chris and Halley make FBI interrogators look like monkeys armed with plastic spoons."
Halley! Chris! Amy thought in horror. Please, don't let them be here. This had gone past mere coincidence now. Five freedom fighters were more than Dyl could handle. She was nervous enough already. If Halley and her team came here again, she would break down.
But the conversation continued, heedless of her fear.
Akkad sounded desperate now. "What will happen if I don't tell you what I told them?"
"You'll probably be dead by morning." The second man told him. Murder??! Amy dropped her tray with a clatter. People looked.
"I'm not saying another word until Halley comes, Brin. No matter what you do to me." Akkad replied shakily.
Brin sighed and lent back. "Fine; we'll wait." And the table fell silent. Amy scurried away.
This had gone entirely too far. It was frightening now. She couldn't stand it anymore. It was too terrifying for her to deal with alone. Some sort of betrayal, possible murder, and freedom fighters, all of this was out of her league.
She had to tell Dyl, he was an adult, a grown-up. He could deal with this. He had a shotgun, he would protect her.
Amy walked, with some speed and little grace to the back of the room where Dyl was taking an order. She waited for him to notice her.
When finally he was finished, she hurried to his side while he walked to the bar.
"I need to talk to you." She told him.
"Not now." He ordered; taking a tone he only did with his staff.
"It's important!"
"Please, Amy, tell me later. I've got work to do. If you really value our friendship tell me later." And he walked away.
Amy cursed malevolently under her breath. She would just have to deal with it herself.
Amy walked purposefully towards the bar. She ducked under the counter and began searching through numerous empty bottles until she found what she was looking for. Shotgun pellets.
She opened the box behind the bar, a small rectangle drilled into the shelf above. She loosened the restraints and took out the long handled shotgun and inserted two red shotgun pellets into each barrel. She cocked it.
"What are you doing?"
Amy jumped and nearly pulled the trigger. She looked up and saw Dyl leaning over the edge of the bar. "Shit, don't scare me like that when I've got a gun in my hand."
"Why do you have a gun in your hand?" Dyl asked. "Is this about money? Because I swear I can pay you more . . . ."
"No, don't be stupid." She disregarded his comment with a little flip of her hand. "You know those people who wanted to see me a couple of months ago?"
He nodded.
"They are freedom fighters. And now they're coming back."
"But what's with the shotgun?"
"Are you telling me that you're gonna have five or maybe six violent freedom fighters in your bar, bringing you a basket full of trouble, and you're not going to have loaded shotgun where you can get you're hands on it?"
Dyl sighed and pushed a hand through his stubbly hair. "Good point, but leave the shooting to me? Okay?"
"Fine." She handed him the shotgun and stood. I never get to do anything fun, she thought. "They're over there. More are coming." She indicated Jord's table.
The evening continued as normal. Amy avoided Akkad, Jord and Brin as much as possible, but there was only so much she could do without standing out. Their table was a central one and you couldn't really ignore customers whether they had a gun hidden under the table or not. What really bugged Amy was the fact that Jord kept staring at her. It drove her mad. What was his problem? What was so strange or important that meant that he had to stare at her all evening? She was nothing special, not anymore. She wasn't even very pretty.
About twenty minutes later it became apparent, that Amy's problems had only just begun. Halley and Terrik were back.
Fear routed her to the ground. Slowly she stood and went to the bar, ignoring the shouts and jeers from drunken patrons.
They looked more battered than before. And Amy had obviously forgotten how tall Terrik really was.
But where was Chris? Surely he hadn't been killed in combat!
Halley pulled a stool up and sat. She spoke in hushed tones and Amy couldn't hear what she was saying. Terrik was sat at a table at the side of the bar. He ignored all other people and kept his concentration on the centre table where his captain sat.
Later, Amy was staring into space when a familiar figure walked across her sight line. It was Chris. He looked faintly amused. He joined Terrik and gave Amy a half hearted wave. Amy walked over to the table at Dyl's urging.
"What do you want, boys?" She asked, taking out her e-pad and stylus.
"Two tequila shots." Chris said, before Terrik could interrupt.
"Life that bad?" She asked.
"Not really. Just give us a couple of cokes." Terrik responded quickly.
Chris' mischievous smile faded to a frown. "How do you expect me to have fun if I can't have a drink?" From his tone of voice, she could tell he was only semi-serious. Still, the sulky expression that was settling onto his face made her laugh.
"We're not here to have fun." Terrik informed him. "We're not supposed to be drinking right now."
"I won't tell if you won't. Two tequila shots." Chris confirmed. Amy turned.
"Hey," Terrik grabbed her hand, and she went very still. The almost friendly atmosphere went stone cold and Amy could see Chris tense. "Get off." She whispered, trembling.
He did. And Amy turned to face the pair.
"One shot and one coke," Terrik confirmed, sitting back down. He turned to Chris. "You want to face Halley drunk? Be my guest. But leave me out of it, buddy."
"Who said anything about getting drunk?" Chris' eyes were wide with mock innocence and the tense atmosphere listened as she laughed. "Just one drink! That's all I'm having!"
Terrik snorted.
"Don't you trust me?" Terrik didn't reply. Chris sighed with mock sadness. "No one listens to me."
"You two done?" Amy asked the bickering pair.
Chris grinned and nodded. Amy walked away with a smile twitching at her lips.
The last time she had seen Chris; there had been little time for jokes or laughter. She hadn't actually realised how nice he was, or how funny. Maybe freedom fighters aren't so bad after all, she thought.
But some terrified her. Halley, for instance. That woman looked like she won't flinch at killing anyone who stood in her way. Halley made Amy very nervous, like a dear in the headlights of huge lorry.
Amy stalked back to the bar. It was half an hour later when Chris came in search for her.
"Are you even old enough to work here?" He asked her, eyes twinkling with curiosity.
"Why are you even interested?" She replied.
"Answer the question." Amy mentally noted that he didn't answer her own question.
"I suppose you're old enough to kill people?" Amy contradicted.
"There's an age limit?" Amy laughed. "But, seriously though, are you?"
She laughed. "You never give up do you?"
"Not if I can help it." He smiled, and it warmed Amy's heart it see it, for reasons unknown. "Come on, answer the question."
Amy sighed and gave in. "I'll be seventeen in exactly a month." Not true, the inner voice said in her head. Another lie.
He lent back in his seat. He covered his emotions so quickly that Amy could barely tell that he had been surprised. "Humph," was all he said.
She smiled and tapped his nose with her tray. "I'll be back in a minute. Don't blow anything up while I'm away."
He just snorted in reply.
She was smug that she had surprised him. But the reason for his surprise was a mystery to her. Did she look younger? Was she developing wrinkles early? She made a mental note to check her reflection in a mirror the next time she had a chance.
When she returned, he was still sat, staring pensively into space. "Planning any mass murders?" She asked.
"Planning any mass poisonings?" He asked in reply.
"Would I do that?" Amy's eyes widened in feign innocence.
He just laughed.
"Chris. What are you doing down here, really?" She asked him seriously and suddenly the joking stopped, like turning off a switch.
"Just investigating. We're not to cause trouble, I promise." He raised his hands to show his innocence, but Amy snorted in disbelief.
"Really?"
"Nothing happened last time. We didn't start riots or cause trouble for anybody." He made it seemed as if this like it never happened.
"You scared the shit out of me, that's what you did!" Amy replied with more venom than she had intended.
Chris was shocked. "Why?"
"A plea for help from an organisation of freedom fighters isn't scary? The likelihood of me being killed would sky rocket. That's hardly what I would call a picnic."
"We would protect you!" He assured her.
Amy took a furtive glance around and made her voice into a low, harsh whisper. "Look around you, Chris; we're not winning this war! I appreciate all that you guys have done for the rest of us, but it's just not practical to keep fighting anymore. We're losing!"
Chris looked troubled. "Don't you care that you have no rights? No freedom. That you're discriminated against because of what you can do, who you are, what you were born with."
"Look around, Chris. Do we look free to you? Does this look like the paradise we were promised?"
"It's a start." He replied quietly.
A very, bloody and painful start. She thought. "They were other ways, Chris."
"No one was listening."
"Do you think they're listening now? With bombs exploding in their eardrums and gunfire every night? Do you think they'll hear, understand? This isn't the 1960's, Chris. No one will listen to a Martin Luther King who thinks that speeches go well with air strikes."
"That's why we need your help."
Amy snorted. "That's realistic; getting a bookstore keeper to help in a fight for equality. What am I supposed to do? Alphabetise the surface dwellers into submission? How am I supposed to help?"
Chris looked down into his lap and picked at one of his cuticles. He looked embarrassed, and it took Amy a while to realise why.
Amy threw her head back and laughed harshly. "You don't know, do you? So all that talk about me saving the world was just bull?"
"Hey, we never said that!"
"Sorry, but it is a little funny that you think that an incredible saviour is here, and you find me. Did you even have any idea who you were after, or did someone pick me out of a line-up?"
Chris expression was very disgruntled. "We knew."
"Oh, I forgot, your friend with the 'mystical powers of premonition' told you that I would be here." Amy's tone was mocking and then turned serious. "Grow up, Chris. This is not a fantasy story; there are no happy endings."
He didn't have an answer for that, and Amy regretted the harshness of her words. Still, it was nice to know someone wanted her, even if it was a completely stupid idea.
There was an awkward silence and Amy couldn't think of anything to say. Besides, she wouldn't apologise for something she had meant. She went about, cleaning tables and feeling stupid.
When Amy returned, Chris was sat talking to a local, Dan.
"Can I get you boys anything?" She asked.
"No thank yee, darling, I'm finished 'ere. Send Dyl my compliments. 'Night all," He gave a weird wave and stumbled out of the door at the back. Chris chuckled at Dan's attempts to stay upright.
Amy turned suspiciously back towards him. "What were you saying to Dan? Did you get him drunk?"
Chris grinned and opened his mouth to reply. A shout from across the room, however, grabbed their attention.
The shout had come from the freedom fighters table. Amy and Chris both cursed and started over there.
The exclamation had come from Akkad, and a shouting match seemed to be in full swing. Akkad and Halley were standing.
The whole bar was silent as the most dangerous people in the room passed insults back and forth like a volley ball that could explode. Everybody was listening in. Amy scanned the room to find Dyl. The emotion plastered all over his face was concern.
Amy turned from her friend's concerned expression. She walked as fast as she could towards the table that was the centre of the trouble. Chris followed. He went to Halley's side, where Terrik also loomed. Chris whispered something in her ear and he seemed alarmed, but she barely noticed him.
Amy took a more neutral position. She stood between the two parties and tried to calm things down. But Halley's expression was bordering on furious and the air around Akkad cracked with magic and uncontrolled fury.
"- and if you seriously expect me to believe that, you shouldn't be ca-" Akkad continued, but he was cut off.
"You forget yourself, Akkad I'm in this position because I know people, politics and I know how to deal with scum like you." Halley retorted, using the most insulting tone.
"Excuse me, ma'am, sir," Amy interjected, trying to be polite. "If you don't quieten down I'm gonna have to ask you all to leave."
They all ignored her.
"You're a stupid woman, Halley." Akkad said, still at the same volume as before.
"How dare you insult me! You're not in a position to talk like that. I've got four men with me. Face it, Akkad, you don't have all the cards." She sounded smug.
Her voice was quieter than before, but the table was still the centre of attention.
Amy sighed; it wasn't going to be a good night.
"Umm . . . . guys?" Amy tried to attract their attention again. Although, she didn't know them well, she felt oddly responsible for the three freedom fighters, and by association, the other three as well. The people she was trying to help now were the very people that had mortally terrified her before. But whether they were her responsibility or not, she would blame herself for whatever happened tonight, and although he would not admit it, Dyl would too.
Suddenly Amy got a hot flash. It was an intense feeling impending danger seemed to stab painfully at her head and she stumbled back. And Akkad's hand barely missed her arm. He had tried to grab her.
Amy took another few steps back, afraid. But Akkad was fast and stronger. He tried again. This time he succeced. He looped an arm around her and dragged her back.
Due to Amy's small size, it was an easy task, but she kicked and struggled all the way, but she couldn't find her voice.
"Look who just found a get out of jail free card!" And then, from behind, Amy heard the click of a gun being cocked. Next to her head. Amy froze.
The temperature of the room felt like it dropped ten Celsius in three seconds. Everybody, apart from Amy's new friends, screamed and ducked under the table at the sight of a gun. All Amy heard was her own ragged breathing. She saw Dyl, standing stock still in the corner, go deathly pale.
Halley, Jord, Brin, Chris and Terrik were all standing in an instant.
"What are you doing?" Chris demanded.
"Protecting my interests." Akkad replied. He wrapped a restraining arm around Amy's shoulders, holding her close, and not in a nice way.
"You're playing a dangerous game, Akkad." Halley warned, with a voice filled with threats those ice blue eyes glowing menacingly. She took a step forward, and the gun's barrel pressed harder into Amy's temple. Out of the corner of her eye, Amy saw Dyl pushing his way through the tables and people slipping out.
"Take another step forward and the girl dies. Both of you." Akkad shrilled. Dyl stopped immediately.
But Akkad seemed to be losing it. He seemed to bounce up and down, as he said it and ground the gun further into Amy's skull. He was breathing in short gasps.
"Are you on something? If you shoot her the entire garrison will be down here in a matter of seconds." Jord told him.
Akkad laughed harshly, a sound that grated on Amy's eardrums. "I wasn't planning on shooting her. I'm not that stupid."
"What were you planning on doing with me?" Amy asked through gritted teeth.
"You, quiet!" He poked the barrel into her neck. It hurt.
He turned his attention back to the others. "I plan on taking her back to the surface. I'm sure she would be worth a lot to some people."
"And you think they're just going to let you get away?" Halley asked critically. "They won't let you out alive."
"I've made a deal." He said, as if he was proud of the fact.
The five freedom fighters' expressions ranged from pure shock to outrage.
"You would sell the alliances' only hope?" Brin spat.
"I'm not worth anything!" Amy protested desperately, but they all ignored her. Amy turned to Chris, begging his eyes to hold some answers. And he was staring at her in return. But Amy couldn't read his expression.
"If I move closer, you'll have to shoot her and if you do, you won't have anything to give the humans." Halley countered.
"Whoever said I was going to shoot her!" Akkad moved the barrel towards Halley. The tension went up another notch.
Akkad seemed to get control of himself and said rather calmly; "Drop your weapons, or Halley dies." They did nothing.
"Shoot me, and my team will put so many wholes in you that not even your own mother would be able to recognise you." Halley stepped forward again.
"I mean it!" Akkad screamed. They disarmed with a clatter.
He swung the gun back and forth between team mates. His new found calm was deteriorating already and it showed. He started to sweat.
"Akkad, you're outnumbered, and you took a public transport here. You have no way out." Halley stepped forward again.
"Do want her to die? Keep walking." Akkad shouted. Amy winced as he pointed the gun again at her. He eyes were bright and he licked his lips.
"You wouldn't kill her." Halley retorted coolly. She took another small step forward.
"I'll kill you!"
"I don't think you will." Halley took another small step towards Akkad. But he swung his gun back towards Halley. Amy looked at Chris again. He nodded quickly and for a split second she wondered why. Then she knew that she had to move.
She grabbed the arm restraining her and bit down hard on it. She elbowed him in the stomach. Then she ran.