I move over to the third member of the merry band. So, then, what did they call you? Big Misha, wasn’t it? Well, size didn’t help you here. It wasn’t what I’d planned, and I can’t say I wanted to shoot you to be honest. That’s just how it went down. The door slammed open, and my finger twitched automatically. It just so happened that my finger was on the trigger at the time. Basically, it’s bad luck, old boy. But then I find he has a revolver in his pocket. Not such bad luck after all, at least for me.

I hear movement, turn to my right, and I’m looking at the black hole of a gun barrel. It’s the shopkeeper’s regular guard. He’s calm and composed, holding his gun with confidence, unlike some of us.

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