Beyond Blue by Austin S. Camacho Page A

two partners joined him in the room. The one with the pointed beard sat on the desk. The third, gun still drawn, stood just inside the door.
    â€œOkay, so me and Psycho searched the rest of the suite pretty thoroughly,” he said, pointing with his gun. “You didn’t find anything in here?”
    â€œYou can see it all, Doc,” Frankie said. “You see anybody?”
    Doc rubbed his broad nose. “I don’t get it. I was sure I heard something when we came in. Really thought there was somebody in here. But we’ve taken the place apart. Any ideas?”
    Frankie and Psycho shrugged their massive shoulders. Doc turned to leave the room just as a small brunette with big, dark eyes came through the door.
    â€œWhere you been, Linda?” Doc asked.
    â€œWhat are you guys doing in here?” the woman asked in return. She wore a long conservative sundress too late in the season. “You know the lawyers are in court.”
    â€œI thought we’d come up a little early and get you to put a package in the safe. But instead we get here and you’ve left the place unsecured and empty.”
    â€œSo, what?” Linda asked, getting to her desk. “You guys hang out to admire the panoramic view until I get back?”
    â€œYeah, like we got nothing better to do than…” Doc’s little eyes rolled up into his head as if he was reading an idea printed there. Then he turned and motioned to Frankie. He pointed at the window, then to his right. Frankie’s brows wrinkled in confusion at first, but then he nodded. He popped the lever that held the window closed and looked out.
    Out on the ledge, Rico Steele leaned back against the wall, just a couple of feet from the window. His fingers were dug into the crevices between the bricks and his eyes watered from the stinging breeze that had been trying to rip him away from the building.
    â€œHey, you!” Frankie shouted out the window. “Get your ass in here.”
    Linda stood to see around Doc at the door better. Frankie reached out the window and grabbed Steele’s tie. Psycho hopped off the desk to help. Frankie pulled Steele’s head in through the window.
    Just then, a roar announced an entire row of ceiling tiles giving way. Samuel “Stone” Mason, wrapped in a cloud of dust and powdered masonry, fell from above and drove Psycho to the floor. Steele climbed in through the window and began throwing left, right, left punches at Frankie’s head as quickly as he could.
    Stone turned just as Doc pointed his pistol’s barrel at Steele. Stone grabbed one of the larger chunks of ceiling tile and tossed it like a Frisbee. The square disc sailed across the small room to jam its edge into Doc’s eyes. Doc screeched in pain and dropped the gun to claw at hisinjured eyes.
    With a roar, Psycho rose from the rubble and flipped Stone off his back. Stone flew to the side, smacking into the wall behind the desk and sliding to the floor. Psycho roared again, like an injured animal, and charged forward. His shoulder slammed into Steele’s ribs and Psycho drove him forward, to crash into the wall on the other side of the office.
    Doc was still wiping his eyes, but moving toward the sound of battle. “You get him, Psycho,” Doc said.
    Stone leaped forward. His hands slapped down on the desk. His feet swung around and shot out slamming hard into Doc’s chest, sending Doc into the wall.
    â€œLook what you assholes made me do to my coat,” Stone said, looking down at the leather now under a white powdered camouflage. But Doc was not looking. He was unconscious beside Frankie. Then Stone turned to Psycho, who was crushing Steele’s ribs in a vicious bear hug. Stone moved up behind Psycho and slammed a hard left into his ribs. Psycho grunted, but Steele still couldn’t draw a decent breath, so Stone punched the same target again. After a third left hook Stone thought he heard a rib give