Chapter three:

Heart racing, Sidney flinched back. Smoke's eyes were smoldering fires. Behind her, the doors burst open, and two guards dashed in. The first one drove the butt of his shotgun into Smoke's chest, toppling him over. In a second, both barrels were lowered toward his chest. Don't move, Smoke, the first guard said. Not an inch. Are you alright, Miss? Face flushed red, Sidney jumped from her chair. Get your sorry asses out of here!

What?

Did I signal for the calvary?

Well...

Did I? She pointed at the cameras.

But- the first guard started.

Jeff, a voice shouted outside from just outside the library doors. Moe! Let's go! It was Warden Decker. His chest was heaving and his face beaded with sweat. He loosened his tie. Now! With hesitation, the guards lifted their barrels and backed off, eyes never leaving Smoke.

Sorry, Miss.

Sidney glanced at him.

Er, sorry... Agent Shaw.

Sidney waved the warden off, and he showed her a squamish grin. Seconds later, the doors closed again, leaving her alone with Smoke. She turned and found him in the chair, with a slight smile on his face. She hid a gasp. She hadn't even heard him move. No rattle of metal nor the scuff of chair. Nothing. She resumed her seat. How's your chest? I bet that hurt. I've bet it hurt worse. His eyes were dancing. You're prior military too, aren't you? Let's pick up where we left off before you had your little tantrum, shall we? I believe you were saying you're upset that you haven't been paid. I took a major thug off the streets. A top dealer. He rolled his shoulders and grimaced a little.

I should have been paid. I was tossed in here instead. The judge didn't see it that way. She glanced through the file. It says you acted with extreme prejudice. The man's a killer. A murderer. That's for the courts to decide. And we can't just go around maiming people. Smoke lifted his brows. Even if it saves a life? You cut off his index finger. No, I cut off his trigger finger. She wanted to laugh but it back. Most people only have one trigger finger. You cut off two. I can shoot right- or left handed. Can't you?

I've never had the need. As for you, well I'd venture to guess your little act of mutilation didn't set well with Mister Durn. That's probably why he put the prison hit on you. Huh, well, I've been a bounty hunter for a long time.

You've been one four years. That's a long time. He crinkled his brow. Anyway, I've achieved a lot in that time. Helped a lot of people. But some of those judges aren't so helpful. Durn has deep pockets. It's no surprise he paid the judge off and got me sent inside here.

Maybe the judge was coerced. He should be willing to die first. Sidney nodded. Smoke had a point, but it was all speculation. She picked up the file and fanned herself with it. It's in the past now. Let's talk about the future. Are you interested in hearing what I have to offer or not? He shrugged. Yes or no, if you please. Does it involve working with the FBI or any other law enforcement agency?

Absolutely.

Then no.

Why?

You've read my file, I don't play well with others. Too many rules. Not enough action. That's why the bad guys get away. Besides, I don't trust them. If I did, I'd probably be doing what your doing.

Come on. She leaned back. We aren't are bad.

See, you just admitted it.

Admittedly what?

That most of you are bad. He tilted his head back and let out a laugh. Hah.

That's a common expression.

Says the girl scout. And I bet you think those cookies you are selling are good for me, too. He shook his head. No one is as blind as he who will not see.

My eyes are wide open.

I'm sure they are, but my answer is still no.

So, you would rather sit in here for two more years plus let more criminals get away?

There are plenty of criminals in here that are need.of my correction.

Difficult. Difficult. Difficult. The man across from her seemed content, however. It was weird. So long as I'm here, will you just listen to my offer?

He shrugged. Sure.

The FBI has a list. She clasped her hands together and rested them on the table. The typical America's most wanted. You're familiar with it, I'm sure.

Uh- uh. Say, what kind of perfume are you wearing? He sniffed the air. It's different. Good, but different.

The Marshall's have their lists. The Washington P. D as their list too, she continued, more on the local level.

You've dealt with them all, and disregarding the last case, you've done an exemplary job.

Yeah. He yawned and eased back until he lifted the front legs of the chair from the floor, then started gazing around. I know all of the lists. It's what I do.

But there's another list, one that isn't on the public record. It's called Smoke's brow lifted, and his legs hit the floor. He leaned over the table and spoke.

The Black Slate.