Runner-up 1

“OK. You know what?” Falco said, his hands up and palms forward as he backed toward the alcove where his wife had stood a minute ago.

“Let her go. Evelyn wants to rescue three guys bleeding on my lawn; I can’t stop her. But you have got to get out of here. Now.”

“Oh, sure, you moron. Are you crazy?” Bonner shouted.

Ernesto tensed, the Beretta still trained on Genie’s back, his eyes fixed on the congressman.

“Best idea I’ve heard today,” Genie said, grabbing her white purse. “Who’s driving?”

“Think about it. In five minutes, all hell’s going to break loose,” Falco said. “Paramedics, cops, media, you name it.”

The room got quiet.

“Am I right?” Falco briefly locked eyes with each of them in turn.

“Don’t know about you Bonner,” Ernesto said. “Me and your wife here, we’re staying put.”

“And I’m not leaving without that little item of mine that is now in your possession,” Bonner said, his gun still extended toward Falco.

Bonner and the congressman were staring at Ernesto now like he’d lost his mind.

“Don’t be stupid,” Falco said, his voice nearly a falsetto. “The cops take that flash drive away, it ruins a lot of people’s lives, and it becomes instantly worthless to you . . .”

“How ‘bout you shut the hell up,” Ernesto said.

“Well, bite me,” Bonner said as he reeled backward against the hutch. “You’re a cop!”

Falco turned white and his jaw dropped.

Genie whirled around and said into Ernesto’s pockmarked face, “Nice work, scumbag.”

Falco disappeared through the alcove, Ernesto took two steps away from Genie as if to chase him and Bonner fired.

Genie screamed. Ernesto went down hard.

Karen Dale is a published poet.