Patrick ran out of the undergrowth and back into the parking lot. He just had time to catch a glimpse of Scott chasing Don into a road that led through the trees.

He knelt down and removed the empty clip from his pistol. He thrust a new one back into the butt of the gun and followed. Patrick ran into the forest, and sped through the road through.

Eventually he reached a place where a steep road led down a hill to a dock. He could see Scott returning from the dock and guessed what had happened. He was wiping fresh blood from his sword.

He ducked back into the thick bush.

"I have to get him onto the dock," he whispered to himself, smoothing out his Beatle-haircut. "I have to get him away from prying eyes, and kill him."

He wiped a fresh lake of sweat from his forehead and hid himself between two thick oak-trunks. He waited for Scott to come around.

Scott walked slowly and sinisterly back up the slope. His work was almost finished: he just needed to kill the last of George's allies and his vengeance would be complete. There would be no trouble finding flesh for his sword to cleave on that man.

He drew his sword through his cloak, wiping Don's blood from it and continued upward.

After about thirty seconds, Scott strode into view. Patrick had a perfect shot, it was so easy...Scott could not see him. He was continuing on past the forest, away from the hill. He moved out of sight.

The time was nigh. Patrick leapt from the bushes with a purposefully loud rustle and began tearing fast down the steep road.

There was a noise in the bush. Scott swiveled around in time to see the last man fleeing down the hill, back to the docks. Scott whipped after him, his cloak flying and his sword held high.

Patrick stopped running and skidded to a halt right at the start of the unsafe-looking dock. He spun around. Scott was in hot pursuit, and he was ready to kill. Patrick pointed his gun and fired – he believed he was out of sight of anyone.

It seemed to work; Scott flew backwards a foot and fell down on the ground. He lay motionless. But Patrick was a cautious man, and continued to point his gun.

Just then, Scott stood, a cunning grin on his face, and started towards Patrick. Terrified, Patrick ran onto the dock.

He stopped in the middle of the pier and turned around. Scott was right next to him. He fired a shot, but Scott dodged it. Scott swung his sword down at Patrick. He blocked the attack with his gun.

Patrick shot again, and missed once more. Again and again he shot until he had but two bullets left. He blocked several more fierce attacks by Scott's blade and then punched him in the stomach. He keeled a bit, but was still capable of dodging. The time was not right to attack, so he ran down to the ramp.

He took a quick glance over the left railing, seeing Don's body floating in bloody water, before running down the ramp. Scott leapt on after him.

Patrick ran onto the floating docks and ran over to a small building. Scott jumped close to him. The agile and skilled killer leapt right up next to Patrick.

Scott swung his weapon sideways, attempting to decapitate Patrick. His victim ducked and then ran around the building when Scott span around and attempted to decapitate him. Without sight of Patrick, Scott ran around the other side of the building.

Patrick came out onto the open dock, pointing his gun, as if expecting to see Scott. He was not there. He walked over, into open ground.

He was so close...in a few moments, Patrick would be dead.

The man was walking on the dock, looking around to see if he could spot Scott. He would not be seen.

Patrick turned around and looked in the same direction as Scott was. Now was the time.

Scott grabbed the edge of the dock and silently lifted himself out of the scummy seawater and onto the dock. He made as little noise as a centipede through the grass.

He crept up behind Patrick, positioning the sharp blade in the centre of Patrick's head...

Patrick heard something behind him. It was the faintest noise, that only an assassin could pick up. But it was there.

He twirled around and pulled the trigger of his pistol. Yes, Scott was there, and yes, he had been shot. There was a gaping hole in his chest.

Scott gave a loud, short scream the instant he was shot. The sword fell from his hand and fell through the crack between the wooden planks of the dock. He fell to his knees.

Patrick put his gun right up to Scott's chest once more, a little higher than before, and fired again. He stood back. Scott gagged, falling forward, and hit the dock with a loud I thud /I . He was dead.

Patrick blew the smoke from the barrel of his gun away, put on a set of flash shades, and casually walked away down the dock, as though nothing had happened.