JULY 1989

This is the end, Murdoc told himself. In mere seconds, the high class restaurant had regressed to a totally shambolic state.

The shooter was the same waiter who had offered them the tainted wine, and now he had no doubt that the wine had been tainted. He was brandishing a submachine gun in his hands. Patrons ran and screamed all around them, but the shooter aimed expertly.

He wasn't aiming at Murdoc, he was aiming at Jane.

Murdoc didn't think. He simply didn't have time.

He upturned the table and threw himself over Jane, the pair of them clattering to the ground. A bullet nicked his shoulder, but he barely noticed. He pulled her to the relative safety underneath another table. He grabbed Jane's black coat from the back of the chair and pressed it into his bleeding wound.

"Eddie, what in the name of Jesus H Christ is going on here?" She whispered hoarsely.

"I don't know, Jane."

"Excuse me, Mister," She snapped, "You seem to be the one to ask. You saw it coming, and unless you have a crystal ball stashed somewhere on your person, I can't see how."

With Jane and Murdoc out of sight, the shooter began to fire wildly, bullets peppering the plaster walls of the restaurant. Diners were still screaming and crying, searching for cover. The gunman walked between the tables purposely. Murdoc peaked out from under the tablecloth. Sonia was gone.

"Don't be shy," The gunman said, dropping his fake French accent for his real Russian one.

"I want to know," Jane demanded to know. She gripped his arm tightly, seizing his attention.

"I'll explain it to you later," Murdoc hissed, "If we survive."

He began to kick over the tables. Cutlery clattered to the floor. Terrified diners flattened themselves to the floor, their hands on their heads. The gunman took no notice, "Come out! Come out, wherever you are."

"Are you scared?" Murdoc asked her.

Jane narrowed her eyes at him, "of course I am, you twit. The last thing I thought I'd be doing tonight was hiding from a psychotic Russian with a fully automatic weapon."

Murdoc patted down his suit, very little in it was useful. He had a pair of brass knuckles, a stiletto knife and a fifty dollar note, none of which would be useful for them to make a clean getaway.

"What were you expecting to do tonight?" Murdoc asked her almost jovially, dropping Jane's coat. Nothing in her coat was helpful either.

She cast him a dark look, "I wanted to eat some snails and go home with a cute guy, alright?" she snapped, "I definitely didn't plan for some nut bag to ventilate my frontal lobe with an AK."

"I didn't exactly plan on this," Murdoc snapped back, "If I knew that this wanker would shoot up this restaurant, I would have gone out for pizza."

"Right, whatever," Jane growled, rifling through her handbag. Murdoc looked around as Jane pulled something out of her handbag, a can of sorts. She handed it to him, "What about this? Will it help?"

"It certainly will," Murdoc turned the can of Mace around in his hand for a moment before grinning, "I like your style."

Their table was the next upturned, but Murdoc was ready.

He blasted the Russian in the face with the Mace. The Russian yelled and dropped the gun. Murdoc grabbed Jane's arm and pulled her to her feet. The pair ran towards the huge glass window. The Russian clambered for his gun. Murdoc threw himself shoulder first through the window, being careful not to leave any blood. He landed on his back and rolled with the impact to his feet. Jane raced behind him and helped him to his feet.

Bullets followed them through the busy street, and the traffic stopped, everything just stopped, except Jane and Murdoc.

Murdoc pulled her into a nearby alleyway, "Are you alright, Jane?"

"No," She growled, "I went back to school to avoid this type of situation. What the Hell have you got me into?"

"Yes, Murdoc," Said another voice, an American woman, "What have you got her into?"

Murdoc stood in front of Jane, shielding her. Sonia Chapel stood before them in the alleyway, still wearing her sparkling dress aiming a pistol at the pair. She was far enough away that the Mace wouldn't reach her. It had no use.

"There's a bounty on the girl, Murdoc," Sonia told him, "You'd kill her yourself if you knew what was good for you."

"Leave her alone, Sonia. She is under my protection," Murdoc told her, "You'd stay away from her if you know what's good for you."

"You know full well that the business doesn't work that way," Sonia bit at him icily.

"You know this nutcase?" Jane asked him.

"It's a long story for another time," Murdoc said to Jane, "I'll hurt you if you come any closer, Sonia. I don't want to do that."

Sonia smiled icily, "I see the girl has made you soft," She hissed, "I would love to gut her in front of you to watch you squirm."

Jane pulled herself a little closer to Murdoc in what could be almost mistaken for fear. Her hand curled around his, and took the can of Mace out of his hand. Murdoc stepped a little closer to Sonia.

"You have to get through me first."

"My pleasure, Murdoc," She cocked her pistol.

As quick as a flash, Jane pulled her arm back and brought it forward with spring loaded precision. She bowled the can of Mace at Sonia like a practiced cricketer.

Sonia had no time to react. It hit her in the face, hard. While she was disoriented, Murdoc sprung forward and punched her in the face for good measure. She fell to the ground unconscious.

"The pleasure was all mine."