Two days later it was time to fight the hangover, and we returned to the empty rooms of our headquarters. There was nowhere else to go.

I was figuring out how to tell Matt about the Brit's ultimatum when the doorbell rang. I checked the security video and saw a well-dressed man with a heavy suitcase. Whad'ya know, it was the stiff Brit, come to splash some dough!

I opened the door, saying that the more they flapped their lips the less likely I was to sell them anything, when – blam! – he knocked me down with a whop of his suitcase right on my head! He drew a gun, so polished it gleamed, and pointed it at Matt, who looked like he was gonna piss himself. I was lying on the floor, thinking about the distance to my shotgun under the desk. But it was too far... for now.

Then, voila, the MegaPrimes boss walked in. I'd almost forgotten about that son of a bitch. "I told you I'd burn your business and spit on your dead bodies – it's time to keep my word!" He whacked Matt on the head with the butt of his gun and he blacked out; his gorilla did the same to me.

I could taste gasoline... I opened my eyes, spitting out the gas they were pouring all over the place, and all over us. I couldn't think, and couldn't muster the will to do anything... I was half-conscious at best... But I was trained to deal with these effects: I was not to think, I just had to move... But whenever I tried to stand up or even raise my hand, they stopped me and pushed me over. The drowsiness was too strong, and so was the pain...

I stretched out on the floor with one eye open. I could barely see through the vapor of gasoline. The door opened and a big guy came in with a crowd. But for some reason they attacked the others... I blacked out.

Someone stood me up and pushed me against the wall. I spewed up gasoline. My head lolled. I opened my eyes and saw the Brit – he slapped me awake. He was here to save my life...

"You know, if it was up to me, I'd throw down a match right now and watch you burn. But God help me we need you! We've been surveying you via satellite and a 24/7 task force across the road. Your rival's move gave us the right to intervene... But I see no computer here...

"Look, I saved your life, and your rival is going to jail. So can you let me see your algorithms? I doubt you'll get a better deal..."

I blacked out again, just for a second, and he shook me violently. I stammered that there was a key in the desk drawer that opens the computer room door. He pulled out the drawer, tipped its contents onto the floor, and searched through the jumble. He found the key, opened the armored door to the "Computer Room," and flowed into the stairwell with two hefty men in combat armor, each carrying assault rifles.

I staggered towards the armored door and locked it with a duplicate key that I always carried with me. I left the key in the lock kicked it hard, twisting it in the keyhole.

I rummaged around and found my shotgun, then with my free arm I picked up Matt, whose unconscious body weighed me down like a millstone. But I wasn't about to fall to three fucking Brits!