| At that moment a car entered the
other end of the alley, switching on its high beams. Both men raised their arms to screen
the light from their eyes. The Chevy stopped about thirty feet short of them. Two guys got
out and moved to the front of the car, to be silhouetted by the headlights. All Janus
could tell was that one was tall and the other less so. Arete could tell from the their
outlines they were not the Egyptians. While the two thugs had been getting out of the car and positioning themselves, he eased the yawara stick from his back pocket. Looking about the alley he spotted an old wooded beer crate. The type divided into six slots to hold quart bottles. It was battered but would do. He snatched it up and pressed it on Janus. "This isn’t like the games with Mutt and Jeff," he hissed urgently. "These guys know their business. You got to get mad, damn mad. Picture them terrorizing your wife." |
That got the scholar’s attention, and
overcame his bewilderment at the sudden change of events. "Now keep this thing out in front of you using the handholds, and keep it in slick pug's face. |
