Six men lay dead, three at his feet, and one hung over a rail next to him. Another lay on the steps below, his body twisted in an impossible angle. The sixth man had fallen. Well he’d actually been thrown three floors to his death. What a waste, Ian thought. These people had no idea how precious life was, or they didn’t care. But he did. Ian had warned them. He told them that he just wanted to leave, that he didn’t want any trouble. Only they didn’t listen. They’d fired on him with the intent to kill. What they didn’t know was that he wasn’t going down without a fight. He wasn’t going down, period. Ian quickly climbed three more floors and pulled open the stairway door that led to the main lobby. He was surprised to see that it was empty. He was about to turn and go check the front of the building when he heard a gun go off. It came from below him. He backed up into the stairwell again and bolted down the six flights of stairs, practically yanking the door off the hinges.
