Out Of Time

The Drekoni

It was raining when Sam and Arthur rapidly and loudly knocked on Clint's bungalow door. It took a few minutes of pounding before Clint opened the door sleepily. He rubbed his face with one hand and looked at them both with his eyes only half open. "Sam, Arthur...what's goin' on?"

"We were attacked at the hotel," Sam said hurriedly.

"Shit." Clint sighed and opened the door more. "Come in."

The couple walked in and Clint closed the door before turning on the lights. "I'm sorry, we didn't know where else to go."

"Were you followed?"

"No," Arthur replied. "I made sure of that."

"Good." Clint walked through his living room to the kitchen. "Go ahead, have a seat." The Morgans looked at the bamboo sitting chairs and they sat down. The place was small and a little run down, but was mostly built with wood. Sam and Arthur had been here many times over for dinner. Clint returned to the living room with a bottle of scotch, three glasses and some towels. He set them down on a table and poured the alcohol into each glass before giving them to Arthur and Sam. "How many guys?" Clint asked before taking a drink from his own glass.

"Five men," Arthur said after taking a drink. "Not sure if they were countin' on me bein' there, I showed up a few minutes before." Arthur and Sam grabbed their towels and started drying off.

"Hmm." Clint sat down with a groan. "Did you get a good look at any of 'em?"

"No," Sam said, drinking her scotch.

"Who shot first?"

"We did. Why?"

"Well, if they weren't there to kill you, they were there to kidnap you...that kinda narrows down which gang they may belong to."

Sam blinked at Arthur before looking back at Clint. "There are gangs here?"

"Of course there are. God, what rock have you been living under?"

Arthur held Sam's hand. "Sorry, but we've been, well...it's complicated," Arthur explained.

"I understand," Clint said, nodding his head and throwing back some scotch. "If your marshal buddy hired some people to kidnap you, he probably hired Metua's boys."

"Metua? Who's that?"

"He's the head of a crime organization called the Po Taata."

"The Po Taata?" Arthur asked, looking confused.

"Means "night men"."

Sam gulped down the rest of her scotch. "Well, how sure are you that we got attacked by the Po Taata?"

"Not a hundred percent, but they're the best gang to go to."

Arthur sighed and drank more of his scotch. "So, what do we do?"

"For now, you two can stay here and sleep. I'll go in the morning, see if I can find out who's after you guys."

Arthur blinked. "You can do that?"

"Sure. Didn't Sam tell you who I used to be?"

"No, she didn't."

Clint smirked at Sam who raised up her hands. "It wasn't my place to say, Clint."

Clint gave a low chuckle and poured Sam some more scotch. "Well Arthur, prepare yourself for a tale of epic proportions."

After Clint explained to Arthur about his past, the Morgans called it a night and slept for a few hours until the sun came up. By then, Clint had already left, but he wasn't gone for very long. When he came back, he had grim news. It was not the Po Taata who had been paid to kidnap Sam; it was the Drekoni.