Patricia gasped, "Oh, no," dropped her bludgeon and sank into a chair, her head in her hands.
Ross, his face in dismay, came slowly to his feet. The redhead stared at the gunman, momentarily considering further attack. Larry, ignoring both Braun and Patricia, swung the gun to cover him exclusively. "I wouldn't," he said emptily.
Of a sudden, Ross' head jerked backward. His nose flattened, crushingly, and then spurted blood. He reeled back, his head flinging this way and that, bruises and cuts appeared magically.
Crowley's voice raged, "You asked for it, wise guy. How do you like these apples?"
The saturnine Larry chuckled sourly. "Hey, take it easy, chief. You'll kill the guy."
Ross had crumpled to the floor. There were still sounds of blows. Crowley raged, "You're lucky I'm not wearing shoes, I'd break every rib in your body!"
Patricia was staring in hopeless horror. She said sharply, "Don, remember you need Ross! You need all of us! Without all of us there can be no more serum."
The blows stopped.
"There will be no more serum anyway," Braun said shakily. The thin little man still stood before his chair having moved not at all since the action began.
Crowley's heavy breathing could be heard but he managed a snarl. "That's what you think, Doc."