Burke took yet another sidling step—a step that brought him within arm's reach of the Smith & Wesson. Clumsily, he poised, readying himself to spear out for the butt with both hands as one.
A groan escaped Theseus as he wrenched at the reluctant bar with all his might. Little by little, the heavy metal bent.
Burke snatched for the gun.
Only as he did so, incredibly, the weapon wasn't there. His hands slapped Theseus' sweat-greased side instead.
Simultaneously, a fist like a maul smashed him full in the face: The Athenian's harsh laughter rang in his ears. He crashed back against the sewer-pipe's wall like a doll flung aside by an angry child. Words hammered at him; Theseus' words: "I wondered when you'd try that, you outlander dog!"
It was all Burke could do to keep his feet, let alone answer.
The Greek snarled, "Now's a good time to tell you the rest of it, too, rack you!"
Burke tried to blink away the haze between them. "The rest of it—?" he mumbled.
"That's right; the rest." His captor gloated openly now. "You didn't think I dragged you through this hell-hole just for entertainment, did you, when all I needed to do to get rid of you was hand you over to Minos?"