How to Flirt With a Journalist without even Really Trying

Chapter Four

Decided to give back for my birthday. So from me to you, here's a present ya'll have been asking for...

"You stay here, Hazel." Tintin whispered, sliding the small paper in his wallet and reaching for a pistol. "I'll see what's going on." 

The brunette shook her head as she quietly followed behind. "Strength in numbers?"

Snowy yipped quietly, strutting through the door. The journalist shook his head and sighed. "Alright. But stay back."

While the door opened farther, Mrs. Finch's voice seemed irritated. Hazel had never heard the woman so flustered about anything before, much less a mug of cocoa and a decent book. Snowy's mannerisms had been a warning sign for them, and his growl again met Tintin and Hazel's ears. 

"Thank you, Mrs. Finch. I can look after this." Tintin politely chimed in. The landlady, unimpressed by the late company, turned and walked back into her flat.

"Hey, kid; is that you? Open the door." An american accent whispered through the chained door. Peering through the crack, Hazel noticed the dark moustached man leaning against the door. Brown eyes were wide and his voice was breathy. He wasn't as tall as Tintin - maybe a few centimeters shorted.

"What do you want?" Hazel wondered, her voice shaking. Of all the men she'd delivered parcels and letters to, she'd never seen this one before. She'd have to ask the boys back at the office about him.

Tintin gently pushed her away from the door, raising a finger to his lips. Annoyed, she obliged.

"The game is up; he's going to be back! We know he wanted those boats, but  I swear to God, I never thought he'd kill anyone over it." The american continued.

Snowy dug his head between Hazel's ankles and laid his head on the top of the toes. Her heart rate slowly calmed, but there was always a calm before a storm.

"Who are you talking about?" Tintin wondered, reaching for the pistol he'd pocketed. The parcel deliverer's heart jumped again at the sight. 

The american seemed agitated as his voice raised in volume, while trembling in fear. "I'm trying to tell you that your life is in danger!"

"Who?!" Tintin's once quiet whisper became a forceful one word. 

Without warning (but what weapon gives off a warning as it attacks), bullets barrelled through the door. If the balls of metal hadn't alerted the landlady, Hazel's short scream had. Both she and Tintin dropped to the floor, Snowy nuzzling under the deliverer. 

A clink of metal against metal ended the barrage. Staying low, still, Tintin cautioned the girl to stay down. There was no need for a second opinion.