“Time limit is up,” one of them said. “Dulaq didn’t get him.”
“Yes, but he didn’t get Dulaq, either.”
The first one shrugged. “The important thing is that now Dulaq has to fight Odal on his terms. Dulaq couldn’t win with his own choice of weapons and situation, so—”
“Wait, they’re coming out.”
Down on the floor below, Dulaq and his opponent emerged from their enclosed booths.
One of the newsmen whistled softly. “Look at Dulaq’s face ... it’s positively gray.”
“I’ve never seen the Prime Minister so shaken.”
“And take a look at Kanus’ hired assassin.” The newsmen turned toward Odal, who stood before his booth, quietly chatting with his seconds.
“Hm-m-m. There’s a bucket of frozen ammonia for you.”
“He’s enjoying this.”