"Good thing we aren't businessmen," Mike says dryly, bending and picking up the gun, his own aim barely wavering. He examines it for a second or two before making a face and tossing it into a pile of trash a few yards away.

"I think this might go better if we're a little further away from the street," he says, nodding further down the alley. "If you would...?"

The man scowls, seems ready to stand his ground, but one glance back at Tom, and then at Mike again, and he appears to think better of it. "You'll regret this," he sneers, even as he follows Mike's direction and walks. "I'll make you wish you had never set foot in that place."