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drip

drip

Max was staggered for a second; he didn't realize what had just happened until he brought his right hand up to feel his chest. Max looked up at the roofs and he didn't see anything at all. He didn't know where the shot had come from. He pulled his hand away from his shirt, the tips of his fingers were painted red. 

drip

"You okay?" Maggie asked him. She tore a strip of her shirt to field dress the wound. Max held his hand up.

"It's only a flesh wound," Max lied. "I'm okay."

"Don't you die on me," Maggie told him. "Don't make me fight the forces of hell to bring you back to me."

Max chuckled and that hurt. "I know it wouldn't be a pretty sight."

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"We better get you to see the doc," Frank stated. He rushed over and glanced at Max for a second and then started scanning the rooftops.

"I'm too busy to die at the moment," Max said. "Remember the mission."

"Fuck the mission," Frank said.

Max looked at Frank and he stated, "We knew the risk of what we are doing."

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Max sat down and shook his head. "Damn. I got cocky. Acting like a rookie."

Maggie held the torn strip to the wound. "Hold it here as tight as you can," she told him. "Frank and I will be right back."

Frank looked at her in disbelief. "You sure about this?"

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Maggie stood up and brought out her katana. She just nodded at Frank and Frank shook his head for a second time.

"Yeah, I'd say she is sure," Max quipped.