章 92: One Syringe of Cyanide

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"I won't say anything until I've gotten something to eat," the man proclaims and crosses his muscle arms like a sulking child.

Oh man, I should have stayed with Kira a bit longer before coming back to the hotel room. All of this feels way too familiar.

"You!"

He points at me. "I want food!"

I snort. "Last time I fed a hostage, he landed in the hospital and almost died. Is that what you want?"

I can still see Jasper's swollen up face in front of me as if that happened just yesterday.

The man seems weirded out and turns to Walter.

"Come on, just order room service. A steak should be good enough."

"Listen up, dip shit."

Walter pulls a gun from the inside of his jacket and points it at him. 

"You see this? This is a P88 Compact. Now I'll have to warn you, I'm not very skilled in handling pistols. So if I shoot you in the head I might miss the sweet spot and have to shoot again. Does that sound fun to you?"