He aimed his heater and exploded the gas tank, the flames whooshing out into the closed space.
"You didn't think we were actually there, did you?"
He fired again and then a steady shower of concrete chips that sprayed his elbow made him glance at the pillar, alarmed. It had been cut entirely away at the top and now it was being chewed away at the bottom, ready to topple over on him.
He set his heater for a fan-shaped ray to cover his movements and scrambled out from behind the pillar, desperately trying to dodge over to the line of cars.
Something spanged into his shoulder and spun him around. He fell heavily to the pavement, the pain briefly paralyzing his nerves. He waited a split second for the pain to lessen, then tried to scramble for his heater. The cement in front of him exploded into dust and chips that cut his face and almost blinded his eyes.
"Get up!"
She stepped out from behind another pillar. A tall, black-haired woman with wide cheek-bones and cold, green eyes. Her face was hard and she carried her hand weapon with all the assurance of one who was thoroughly familiar with it. Two men came with her. They were capable looking men but not the grim, hard-eyed professionals that Stan was used to working with.
The woman walked over to Stan and slapped his face—hard—her nails digging bloody furrows in his skin.
"How does it feel to be a traitor? How does it feel to sell out your native planet for nothing at all?"