"Is that you, my friend?" A pause. "You are like the cat with nine lives, and until a second ago you had used only eight. I assume your ninth got you through my colleagues' burst of impetuosity just now. But I want to see you before I kill you."
"Your counting system needs work," Vance said, still in shock. He gingerly pulled himself up off the floor, fully expecting to be shot then and there. The thought made him giddy, feeling like a Zen master living as though already dead. "I've got eight and a half left."
"So it is you." The accent was unmistakable. "Don't make me sorry I didn't let Wolf here finish you just now. However, this matter is personal. I want the satisfaction of doing it myself."
Vance stepped into the light. "Sabri Ramirez. I can't really say it's a pleasure to meet you." The giddy feeling was growing. "I feel like I'm going to need a shower, just being in the same space."
Ramirez stared at him, startled. "How do you know who I am?"
"I'll bet half the bozos who came with you don't know, do they?" Vance looked him over, feeling his life come back. Stand up and take it like a man. "Back from the dead. It's a miracle."
"Yes, I am back. But you soon will be entering that condition, and I doubt very much you will be returning."
Vance's mind flashed a picture of Ramirez strafing the Navy frigate, shooting the SatCom technician. Not to mention, he was planning to detonate a nuclear device somewhere in the world. Not a man given to idle threats.
He was also known to love torture, part of his personal touch.
"Incidentally," Ramirez went on, "perhaps you should pass me that Uzi. I assume the clip is empty, but it's liable to make my friend Wolf here nervous."