"Oh man, you gotta help me."
"What is it this time, Jordi?" I asked, feigning interest.
"Someone wants me dead."
I chuckled. "Someone always wants you dead, Jordi."
"That's not funny, Pearce. You don't even know, man- this guy sent like, a hundred guys after me. Some ex-fixers too. Someone really, REALLY wants me dead."
"Look, I'd love to help, but I've got something going on right now-"
"COME ON MAN, THESE GUYS ARE GONNA KILL ME." As if to emphasize is point, I heard a few gunshots over the phone.
"Alright, where are you?"
"Lincoln Park. You get there, and I shouldn't be that hard to find."
As it turns out, Jordi was exaggerating.
There was only ten or twenty of them.
"Christ man, took you long enough," Jordi said as he landed two shots into the chest of one of his would-be assailants.
"You're lucky I came at all," I replied, felling another with a shot to the head.
Jordi snickered. "That's what she said."
"God-fucking-damnit Jordi."
We popped out of cover occasionally to shoot a few rounds, and the enemy numbers were quickly reduced to zero.
"Wooh. Alright." Jordi brushed a few specks of dirt off of his white jacket. I heard sirens.
"You owe me, Jordi," I called over my shoulder as I ran away from the scene.