Buckshot and Bribes

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The shotgun blast roared out and Henry took a step back, crying out in pain as the birdshot in the shotgun took him full in the middle of the chest. He staggered to the side as Aine tromboned another round into the chamber at leveled it at the guy on the right, who was pulling a pistol out of his jacket pocket, raising it to aim it at her.

Everyone was yelling, most of them throwing themselves to the ground, a few running to hide behind vehicles.

"You Mick whore!" The guy with the pistol out yelled. The guy next to him had gotten his revolver hung up on his underwear.

Aine shot the one with his pistol out in the crotch, blood and worse exploding from between his legs. He went down screaming, hands over his crotch as he suddenly lost interest in the fight.

The other one managed to pull his pistol out right before Aine shot him in the thigh. He screamed, dropped the pistol, and grabbed his leg, going to the ground.

"I WARNED YOU!" Aine cried out, cocking the shotgun again. She reached into the pocket of her dress and began feeding shells back into the shotgun. I noted it was a Remington 870 Mark I, standard issue urban warfare shotgun.

People were starting to stand up. All three men were laying on the ground as Aine stood on the little front porch, shotgun against her hip with the barrel pointed into the sky.

"How dare you come to my house intent of thievery!" She shrieked. "Intending on intimidating my husband to be by threatening to harm me! Wolfshead! Wolfshead!"

I moved over to her, making sure I didn't get in her line of fire, and touched her arm as she was shrieking.

"It's all right, Aine," I told her. "Ease up."

She shuddered, looking at me. "They intended on coming inside, threatening me, and forcing you to submit to them so they could rob us like we were peasants in the field and they were raubritters."

People were staring as the three men screamed. I glanced a look and realized that, for some reason, Aine hadn't come out loaded with triple-ought buck, which would have blown holes the size of my fist through them at such close range. Instead, she'd used light bird shot.

Which still blew a crater in their flesh.

Harvey was trying to get to his feet and I walked off the porch, hands in the pockets of my jacket, looking down at him.

"Well, that didn't go how you thought it would, did it?" I asked him as he stood up. He was holding his chest, and I could see the blood spreading. "I'd calm down if I was you."

"Gonna kill," Harvey managed to grit out, pulling his hand out of jacket.

Of course.

He had a pistol.

I grabbed his wrist, pushing it down and to the side. He pulled the trigger, putting a bullet into my soaked lawn.

People who were just getting to their feet dove back into the grass again.

I yanked him close, headbutting him so his knees went weak, then did the simplest of the all the options Stokes's training presented me with.

I broke his arm at the elbow, then twisted the arm, watching the jagged end of his ulna rip free of the skin. Harvey screamed long and loud, his hand going to his arm, not even bother trying to do anything to me.

The pistol fell on the grass.

I twisted the arm again. The bone slid back into the flesh.

His radius burst from the skin.

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