[b]Desperado Casino, New Reno[/b]
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A shot flew past his him as Brimble takes cover behind the ruined walls of the Desperado; the former headquarters of the Mordinos now no more than a drug den. Dying chirps of old slot machines and flickering lights ring in the background of this rundown cesspit of a casino. Not like it mattered much anyway because beggars can’t be choosers and Brimble needed to find a Bird’s Nest if we wanted to make it out alive. As he cycles his weapon, a quick burst of lead whizzes through the air and Brimble hears the reassuring click of an empty weapon.

Seizing the opportunity, Brimble pops out of cover and takes aim at the Bishop goon; an ugly git missing his two front teeth and squeezes the trigger. Pink mist!

While eliminating Little Bucket in the lavatories wasn’t his most subtle move, Brimble had no idea why the Bishops would take offence to that. All he did was eviscerate the arsonist, murderer and card-game cheater and remove his finger. It’s not like he damaged the loo in anyway. But of course, times have been hard for the Bishop family with the grip of the Wrights and the Van Graffs along with other setbacks like that one singer who got away or their war with the Mordinos being a waste of resources.

“Move your ass you fucking snook!” said one of the Bishop goons as they prepare to bullrush Brimble from the only entrance into the building. Rank amateurs thought Brimble to himself.

As soon as the first goon pops his head into view, Brimble adds another kill to his name. “Piss off you blimey tit!” taunted Brimble as he cycles his weapon ones more before taking another shot, this time through the heart.

Enough is enough Brimble thought to himself before he ducks back to cover as the lead goon sprays another burst into the main lobby, hitting everything but Brimble. Deciding now is the time to fall back, Brimble arms a Plasma Grenade; a little something he picked up at The Hub. Flinging that can of plasmic death, Brimble legs it to the stairs holding on to his hat and precious rifle as he hears the detonation in synch with the quick distorted screams before the eventual silence.

Dropping his rifle on the side of the hallway, Brimble quickly shuts the door and pushes a bookcase along with anything else he can find to make sure the thing stays shut. 

Pressing his back against the door, Brimble takes a deep breathe to collect his thoughts on the situation; especially on how the hell is he going to get out of there with Little Bucket’s finger and if the Regulators are dandy with Brimble pickling Little Bucket’s finger in scotch. The very thought of scotch makes Brimble’s mouth water; he could use shot of Blood & Sand with some crackers right about now.