[ They're unmistakeable. There's a drive to his step that he can pick up in an instant, can match to his own quickly-packed snapping of his shoes on the expensive marble. He's not wasting any time, hanging up like he does and lining up against the door.
He's hung up the line so Solo drops the phone. The directions are simple, straight and to the point. The staircase he's talking about is one of two--the first running up and down, the second peeling off to an eastern wing that stretches down the street. Luxury suites. He waits, holds his breath, counts the steps and anyone else might jump or prematurely leave the room, guns blazing. But he waits, he holds, because they're getting close, they're almost there, they're just about--
Solo swings the door open feeling the way skull careens against it.
Save a bullet there.
The next one he fires from behind the safety of the door, flashing out for a moment to line the shot up within seconds. It's practically a party. How many men did they fit into that clown car of a milk truck? ]
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He's hung up the line so Solo drops the phone. The directions are simple, straight and to the point. The staircase he's talking about is one of two--the first running up and down, the second peeling off to an eastern wing that stretches down the street. Luxury suites. He waits, holds his breath, counts the steps and anyone else might jump or prematurely leave the room, guns blazing. But he waits, he holds, because they're getting close, they're almost there, they're just about--
Solo swings the door open feeling the way skull careens against it.
Save a bullet there.
The next one he fires from behind the safety of the door, flashing out for a moment to line the shot up within seconds. It's practically a party. How many men did they fit into that clown car of a milk truck? ]