It takes the little man the blink of an eye to realize what's happening. It takes him another blink to get a hand on his gun. "Should have known it," he spits. "You don't know what you are doing. I am a very important man--"

"We know what we're doing," Mike says. He says it very quietly. His gun is drawn and aimed, drawn and aimed since the man started reaching for his own gun. The man's squinty eyes widen very slightly. He's let a good life here, maybe. Not too many people waving firearms at him.

"Drop it now. Unless you wanna lose some fingers."