The Blood Money - Freeport One Edition -

[Haste]

A security guard tapped Martin on the shoulder, and pointed towards the bar.
He sighed. "Not again. I went here to have a quiet evening."
Standing up, he turned his face to the guard. "Thanks for the heads-up. I'll handle it."

Andrew appeared to be coughing up small amounts of blood. Martin quickly and silently approached the aggressor; although making less noise than the crowd forming around the scene wasn't much of a challenge. Just before he reached the man, he had a good look at him. A nasty abdominal wound, from the looks of it. Not in any shape to be beating up a Reaver.

He took out his sidearm, carefully aimed, and fired a single shot. Andrew's reaching for his foot, as well as his screaming in pain confirmed a hit.
Martin shouted at the three guards approaching: "Get him to the clinic! After he sobers up, I'll speak to him."
"And now for you," Martin said angrily, as he walked up to Johnson. He holstered the sidearm, and clenched his right fist. Before the other man could react, a punch to the abdomen forced him to the ground in pain.

"That.."
Another punch. The wounded man had trouble catching his breath.
"Is not.."
One last punch.
"How you behave here."

Martin loosened his shoulders and stretched his arms, then offered a hand to help the man up. "Now that that's clear, let's discuss things like adults, shall we?"

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