Gregson grabbed his .44 Magnum, just in case.

When they got to the airport, the plane was full of freaks and wannabe rock stars.

Before he boarded, Dubois held out his hand. “50 Grand.”

“Do you take a credit card?” Gregson asked.

“Cash.”

Tanya handed him a brick of bills.

“Get on the plane. This is going to be a thrill,” Dubois said.

“Where do you get that kind of money?” Gregson asked.

“From the Bureau expense account. What? You don’t have one?”

Gregson rolled his eyes and sat down. “Where’s Tom and Randy?”

“I finished them off,” a corporate lawyer said. She was wearing a gray suit, which made her look like a shark.

“Did you use a pen?” Tanya asked.

“No. Dubois gave me this Bushman. It’s an AR-50. Apparently, he didn’t like Tom or Randy very much. I guess, their female boss got them in the end.”

“They were losers,” Dubois said. “No color. No style. Sexist. We don’t want that on the show. I want this free-for-all to be equitable.”

The private plane took-off.

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