They were everywhere. She wasn't running away from anything as much as running towards the lowest concentration of angry Hlurcht. Having run out of good bets, she went for the long odds, and got more or less the result she'd expected. As her face hit the floor and the little goons started piling onto her back, Sam mentally cursed her partner. She wanted to be pissed at him for wandering off on his own, but she should have known the courageous idiot would do something like that. In truth, she was mostly angry that Max had FINALLY agreed to hand his gun over without a fuss, only to have his usual paranoia immediately vindicated by a crooked security sting. If they got out of this alive, he was never, ever going to let her hear the end of it. The bastard would probably insist on wearing his gun in the frigging shower.
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