Kenny leaned back in his black leather executive chair while he waited for his computer to shut down for the evening. Looking at his watch warned him that it was nearing 7:30 at night. He decided he'd better call Janice and tell her he was leaving the office shortly, she liked having dinner ready and warmed by the time he got home. He sat up in the chair, picked up his cell phone and hit #1 on the speed dial. After two rings, his wife picked up.

The sound of her voice always made him feel better after a long day. "Hey honey. Getting ready to pack up and head out right now."

"I will. Love you."

He hung up the phone and started packing his papers into his briefcase. Tax season was always brutal. His 9-5, 40 hour a week job changed to slavery once February rolled around. The extra revenue his firm produced was certainly a perk, though. It was what allowed him and Janice to take their yearly vacation. They had decided on Morocco this year and Janice had already started looking for what she called "vacation clothes".

Before he finished packing he spotted the papers for his current return sitting on his desk nearing completion. He hated bringing work home, but it was a high profile client and getting them done faster with a decent return would probably net him some kind of bonus. He sighed and stuffed them into his briefcase before snapping it shut and turning off his office light. The half floor he'd leased out as his office space was dead silent; he'd sent everyone else home for the evening so he was all that was left. He locked the heavy composite wood door before making his way to the elevator. He considered the stairs but thought better of it, his allergies were really acting up as of late and taking the stairs would leave him coughing for the rest of the night.

He stepped into the elevator and hit the "G" button, the doors closed and Kenny felt that funny feeling in his stomach caused by that moment of weightlessness as the elevator begins to descend. He reached up and loosened the tie around his neck, it had been itching him all day and it felt great to finally loosen it. He wondered if anyone would notice if he switched to clip-ons.

The elevator chimed and the doors opened. It was starting to get cool, at least as far as Florida weather was concerned; his northern relatives always laughed at him when he complained about it hitting 40 degrees. Watching his misting breath billow out in front of him (the thought of him being a train always crossed his mind no matter how old he got), he walked briskly through the dark parking lot towards his car. He really wished they'd leave the lights on a little later. Kenny made a mental note to bring it up with the land lord next chance he got; he hated walking to his car in the dark.

As he got within sight of his car, he noticed that there were a few dark shapes all standing around it. He stopped and tried to decide if he should keep walking or turn around and wait for them to leave when he heard a smash and the jingling of broken glass hitting the pavement he was jogging towards his car hollering, "Hey! Stop! What are you doing?!" before he realized it.

The shapes all turned toward him as he got close; he would have turned around and run in the other direction had one of them not pointed a gun at him and yelled, "Quiet down. Keep walking towards us, slowly."

Kenny did as he was told and when he reached his car he saw the broken glass littering the pavement and noticed the four menacing youths all standing around the broken window, one holding the gun pointed towards him.

"Hands on the car," the guy with the gun said in a very unfriendly manner. He heard the other three mumbling amongst themselves but was too terrified to concentrate and try to listen to them. The one with the weapon had his complete attention.

"Late night tonight, huh? What's in the briefcase?"

Kenny took a deep breath and tried to calm himself down.

"Hey! I asked you a question, suit," the gun holder yelled as he pushed Kenny's head down onto the hood of his Lexus and pressed the gun to the back of it.

Kenny took another deep breath before answering. "Just paperwork. Tax sheets, W2s. Just papers." He heard the other three move around behind him and close in like wolves on a wounded animal. He heard one of them say "Have him open it."

"Nah, aint **** in there, he dropped it and pissed his pants soon as I pointed this at him." He emphasized this by pushing the gun in a thrusting motion against Kenny's head.

"Look, my wallet, in my back pocket. There's several hundred in there and my keys are in my left one, take the money, the car and please just go."

"Check him," ordered the gun holder and probable leader of the quad. Kenny felt rough hands reach into his back pocket and remove his wallet. He heard the money being counted then felt the hands again for his keys, first the empty right, then finding them in the left.

"Got em'" the reacher said jangling the keys.

"Good. Means we don't need him no more," was the last thing Kenny heard.

The mugger fired the pistol; gun powder exploded and propelled the bullet through the chamber and out into the crisp, cold night air. The bullet flew its short journey before lodging itself deep into the hood of the car, missing Kenny entirely.

Kenny continued the pivot which had moved his head out of the bullet's path before it was even fired and circled his own arm around and over the gun wielding arm of the would be murderer; securing it against his own rib cage and rendering it harmless. In the same motion, he had brought his left hand up and struck out and up with an open hand against the side of the gunman's throat just under the chin. As he continued the natural movement of the gunman's body, Kenny struck the mugger on his left with a quick snap kick to the side of the knee. Still moving with the falling body, he gave it a rough shove into the nearest thug to the gunman's right. With his now free right hand, Kenny snaked  out an open palm into the still unresponsive fourth target's chin, shattering the jaw and snapping his head backwards. By the time the third mugger had moved out of the path of his falling comrade and regained his balance, Kenny's left hand was just finishing its left to right swinging motion. The inside ridge of his hand struck the man in the side of the head and temple sending him down to the ground in a heap.

Kenny spun quickly to the only conscious man and made ready to move. Reality snapped back, sound finally retuned and time resumed its normal flow when he saw the man grasping his shattered knee and wailing like a hurt child. Kenny searched the ground quickly for the gun, he found it on the ground next to the crumpled body of the shooter. He reached down, picked it up and tossed it out into the parking lot noting its location for when the authorities arrived. Kenny took a moment to survey the scene.

The one with the broken knee was holding it, rocking around on his back and holding his broken, spaghetti like leg. Kenny's gaze moved to the gunman and the last man down. The gunman was lying facedown on the pavement; there was no rise and fall in his body signifying breathing. Kenny remembered where he'd hit him and knew the man was by now probably dead, the carotid artery having been collapsed with the strike. The other, lying only feet from the gunman, Kenny knew would have been dead before he'd even hit the ground. Striking the temple had fatally injured the man's brain.

Kenny looked towards the last man and just now noticed the pool of blood running down the man's face from the broken nose and shattered jaw. He watched his chest closely and saw a faint rise and fall as the man inhaled and exhaled. He was glad that he hadn't hit him harder than he did. A wave of guilt and sorrow washed over Kenny for the two dead men and his eyes misted. He told himself over and over that it was either him or them but that didn't make it any easier. He stumbled to his car and collapsed to the ground, his back against the hood. He sat for a few moments and got himself under control before pulling his phone out of his jacket pocket and dialing 911.

He explained what happened to the always nonchalant operator and was told the police and ambulance would be there shortly, and to please stay on the line. Kenny only remembered saying "My wife," before hanging up on the operator and dialing home.

By the time the police and ambulances had arrived, Kenny realized that he didn't remember anything of the conversation with Janice other than, "I'm sorry but I think I'll be late for dinner."

Keyword: Late for Dinner

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