Reginald flipped onto the roof of the skyscraper, but Fierce was close behind, and jumped onto the roof, sword held high. The blade slammed down hard on the roof as it missed its target, and Reginald quickly slid beside Fierce and put the pistol to his head.
“Will you stop swinging that damn thing for a minute?” Archer growled, agitated.
“Like hell!” Fierce said, spinning and knocking Reginald with the flat of the blade, knocking him back. Fierce swung down on Archer’s arm, and Reginald was nicked, the gun flying out of his hand.
“Damn!” Archer shouted, and tried to dodge the incoming onslaught, taking an additional grazing blow in the process. Fierce swung wide and provided an opening, and Archer ran to where his gun was lying, some 15 feet away. He raised a leg high and with a perfect arc kicked the gun straight over the railing, and the sidearm plummeted to the street below. Fierce was right behind him when he did this, ready to swing when the odd event gave him pause.
The pause was all Archer needed as he reached back into his jacket and pulled out the same pistol, fully-loaded and cocked, and let loose two bullets into the side of the massive blade, destabilizing Fierce’s grip and with a kick to Fierce’s hand sent the broadsword to the ground. He pointed the muzzle straight into Fierce’s face.
“Ahem.” Reginald cleared his throat, his composure returned. “Now then.”
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