Chuck You, Farley! by Gardner Francis Fox

Author:Gardner Francis Fox [Fox, Gardner Francis]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Vintage Sleaze, sexectioner, femme fatale, Secret agent
Publisher: Gardner Francis Fox Library LLC
Published: 2021-07-03T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIX

There was no escape from them.

And there was no mistake being made. I could read that in their grim faces and cold eyes. Cherry Delight the redhead was their target.

They came on soft feet, they made little sound. I backed toward a building wall, my hand going into the Gucci bag. At least I had my little Colt automatic to side me.

It was as if they knew where my gun was. They came in a rush as my hand closed about its butt. One man flung himself through the air just as my fingers went around the gun-butt, in a headlong tackle.

I twisted sideways, much as a bullfighter might have done when being charged by a bull. There was a very satisfying thunk to one side of my hip as the guy slammed into the grimy brick wall against which I was pressing my buttocks.

The gun was still inside the shoulder bag. I yanked it.

But by this time the others were on me. They came in a wave of stinking male flesh and they rammed their heads and shoulders into me, their hands reached for whatever parts of my anatomy they could reach. And they could reach quite a lot, as I soon discovered.

My body was slammed back into the wall, some of the air was rammed from my lungs and tears of pain came into my eyes when hard fingers pinched my breasts and got even more intimate between my thighs.

“Damn bastards,” I yelled.

I fought back, I didn’t bother to take the Colt out of the Gucci. I couldn’t, to be quite truthful about it, their hands prevented it. But I could turn my hand that held the Gold Cup and fire through the cloth of the Gucci bag.

I fired and a body sagged. My hand swung the Colt around and fired a second time. Another body went limp.

By this time the Mafia buttons knew they were in for a bit of a struggle before they subdued me. Muttering curses, they made fists of their hands and hammered them at me.

Those blows rained down on my face and body, from every direction. It was my turn to do some sagging. My knees buckled, pain lanced all through my body. I almost passed out.

But I was mad, determined that they weren’t going to take me prisoner. And that’s what they wanted. Oh, yes. Otherwise they would have shot me down when they first came into the alleyway.

These Mafiosi were armed, they weren’t like Scarface and his pals who had no guns on them. These men were Family soldiers, always ready for some sort of a war.

I got off one more shot before a fist crashed into my jaw. It was an uppercut, I could see it coming, but I could do nothing to avoid it, being hemmed in too tightly, jammed back into that dirty brick wall by all that human flesh.

My shot missed.

I blacked out as that fist landed…

The next thing I knew I was being shoved into a car rather roughly, I think it was that rough treatment that brought me back to consciousness.

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