Words stumbled clumsily from the woman’s tongue. “I don't… have the money this time, sir. I can get it to you later. It’s just been difficult with it being winter and all.” Her arms were gripped around her shawl which she had wrapped in such a way as to conceal the revolver.
The Irishman let out a ‘tsk, tsk,’ and nodded his head at a very muscular man at his side, who started walking toward the door near where Henry was stationed. The boy sat still and remained unnoticed as the strong man walked to another area of the factory.
The Irishman continued. “You know we can’t have late payments, dear. It’s not good business for us. And let’s face it, you started so deep in this that you never would have made it out unscathed anyway. We have a special policy for first-time late payments. You won’t be killed, so that’s good news, I suppose. I’m forgiving like that, you kn--”
A shout sliced through the last word of the man’s speech. Henry’s blood froze over. That was Jet’s voice. The hefty man returned with the child in one arm and a wet rag in the other. Both of his hands sported large gloves. “I found a little mouse sneaking about the premises, sir. I decided to take a look outside, and you won’t guess what I found. Three sets of footprints coming from this end. I’m sure of it. There’s somebody else here.”
“It didn’t take long for them to find me. They brought me up to the group of men and asked me who I was. They didn’t believe that I had no idea who the woman was, of course. It was then that she decided to take out the gun, but she only managed to kill one man before it was ripped from her hand and strewn across that long floor. They started beating on her, but in the commotion that she’d caused, I’d been able to make a run for the revolver.
“I didn’t really want to shoot anybody, so I just got their attention with the gun and ordered them to let her and Jet go. There were only maybe four of them including the Irishman, so they decided to do what I said. The munitionette tried to take the revolver from my hand so that Jet and I could make a run for it, but before she had so much as spoken, the Irishman took out his own gun and pointed it straight at me.
At this point, while the woman didn’t want to leave me, and Jet was just screaming like mad, they knew they had to do it. I told them to take the suitcase and the money and to get as far from this place as they could. The canary had to hold Jet in a vice grip as they hurried out, and I wondered as I heard Jet’s screams become more faint if I would ever see them again. I, on the other hand, decided that the only hope I had of getting out of there alive was to shoot the men before me. I tried, I really did, but my hands were shaking like mad at this point and there weren’t many loaded bullets left. With the remainder of my shots, I only managed to graze the Irishman on the shoulder and then the arm. He dropped his gun in pain and looked at me.”