Gerard is inside and his situation is grim. A pair of mafia tough guys have him tied to a rolling office chair and from the looks of him, they've spent the last thirty minutes working him over. He's got two eyes that look like swollen pink pufferfish and a nose pointing the wrong direction.

The two bruisers look like they'd be strong enough to break a horse.

Their leader Seamus seems to be surprisingly familiar. Turtle can't figure out where he knows him from until the realization hits him like a punch in the gut. That's because he looks just like Frank. Seamus is Frank! Looks like "Seamus" is his name in the mafia world. Ratty and Turtle both are shocked. It looks like everything Frank told Turtle before was a lie. Franks seems like a clever man. He didn’t trust Turtle when he told him Turtle is a writer. As expected, another failure gets included in the long list of Turtle's blunders.

But, one thing is clear. That is Frank does hate the Blue Dream bar. He's been trying to sabotage it from the start. That's not a lie.

The other guy is huge. The tallest, biggest mobster the Turtle has ever seen. His face looks like a middle-aged man's face that's been heavily scarred by small pox.

"We have to help him." Ratty says.

Turtle shushes him.

From an office at the back of the warehouse, a red head emerges wearing a suit that costs more than Turtle's entire wardrobe. Seamus AKA Frank has piled on even more layers of muscle since last Turtle saw him. For some reason, the belly fat remained unchanged. Odd combination indeed.     

He wheels a second office chair over and plants himself squarely in front of Gerard.

He gives Gerard a slap across the face and then takes a moment to adjust the cuffs on his silk shirt. "Now. Where is my money?"

"l'll get the money", Gerard says through swollen lips. His voice cracks and trembles. "Just don't hurt any more of the staff."

Turtle gives ratty a meaningful look.

Seamus spreads his hands. "What are you talking about? I don't go round beating on people. Sides, those staffs aren't the ones owe me money." Seamus leans forward until he and Gerard are nose to nose. "You owe me money, Gerard. You owe me a lot of money. And I'm tired of waiting." Seamus cuts him short with another slap. "Wise up. Your days as a business owner are over, Gerard. In lieu of payment you are going to sign the club over to me and I'l take over the day-to-day operations." He laces his fingers together and grins. "And the girls."

Gerard spits. It doesn't go far. In fact it lands in his own lap, but it's the thought that counts. He's got plenty of spirit for such a small-minded guy. Not that it will do him any good. Seamus doesn't look impressed. He stands and motions at his two enforcers. "I'm going to let Mungo and Billy entertain you. I'l be in my office. Tell them when you are ready to sign.

"You'll have to kill me," Gerard says. It's a resigned and broken statement. The mobsters might not believe him, but Turtle can hear the conviction in his voice. He's ready to die to protect the girls. Foolish, but noble.

Frank AKA Seamus gives another quick adjustment to his shirt before turning on his heels and strolling back to his office. The Middle-Aged Man claps his hands. "Right! And now we begin!"

Seamus goes to the office and closes the door. Mungo and Billy take turns using Gerard's face to work out their childhood issues. The first punch sounds like a meaty crunch.

The second sound like a mushy mess hitting the floor. By the time the third punch sounds, Gerard's teeth are chattering. Blood trickles from a broken nose. Mungo takes a break and hands the baton to his buddy.

"Go on, Billy," he says. "Beat the shit out of him."

Billy obliges, but it's clear he has no heart for this. He throws a few punches at the immobilized Gerard. When he finishes, he doesn't feel much better.

Turtle and ratty decides they had enough watching a man getting beaten to death. They prepare their weapons to attack them to save Gerard.

Ratty and Turtle takes formation. Ratty goes to a bit distance while Turtle hides for a sneak attack. Ratty starts screaming with his lungs out. It's a distraction method.

Turtle grabs a metal chair and waits for his opponent to come out. They might not be the Eastenders, but they know a dead man when they see one.

As the Middle-Aged Man comes out of the office, Turtle charges and smashes the chair over his head. The metal screeches as it crushes skull. Billy pushes Turtle with mighty force, sending him several feets back.

Turtle aims his slingshot and turtle shell shrapnel at the kidnappers. Ratty sprays them with mosquito repellent.

The pong of Turtle's pistol is unmistakable. By the time his shot is repeated, the Middle-Aged Man is stumbling around like a felled tree. A cloven hoof to the chest finishes the job. Turtle kicks the corpse in the face as hard as he can, shattering teeth.

Mungo pulls out his swiss knife.

Turtle shoots his sting-stun gas at Mungo's face. The gas knocks him over, and Ratty quickly check if he is still alive by puking on him.

"You crazy fucker want us dead?" Mungo wheezes. "You killed my friend."

"You were being an obnoxious dick." Ratty points at Mungo accusingly.

Mungo faints to unconsciousness.

"Well, I think that's enough murder for today." Turtle stuffs the swiss knife in his belt.

Hearing all the sound of fight, Seamus comes out of his office.

"What the fuck is going on here?" he asks as Turtle and Ratty bail out of the way to produce more distance.

"We're fine, Seamus." Turtle gives a mock salute.

"What the fuck's going on? You two? Did you defeat my men?"

"You might want to ask your men that." Ratty sneers.

Seamus throws a punch at Rat, but trips over Mungo's body on the way and falls face first into the floor.

"Ugh...very well, ask away." Rat shrugs.

Seamus glares at them both.

"I'm a private investigator. I want the best of care when it comes to my clients."

Seamus points at each one. "You crazy bastard Turtle there killed two of my operatives. and...what the hell is that anyway?"

"A rat." Ratty points out helpfully.

"I knew you were a troublesome turtle when you first came to my bar, lying to me that you are a writer!" Seamus adds "You fool! You are now dead meat." Seamus is a little on the trigger happy side.

"What do you mean? I'm not dead meat. I'm a PI."

"Yes, but not for too long. 'Cause within couple of minutes, you will be dead."

"Fuck you!" Ratty cries in warning as his voice shakes like he is about to tear up and his legs shiver.

Seamus flexes his heavy muscles and ready for a mighty attack.

It's time for the boss fight. Turtle and Ratty must overcome the wrath of Seamus and defeat him.

Seamus is a heavy muscle man and is fond of using brute force for murder. He has a heavy metal gauntlet at his disposal.

Turtle's projectiles of slingshot pistol are finished. Sting-stun gas spray is empty.

Turtle pulls out the boomerang. "Ratty, attack him while I'm keeping Seamus busy."

Ratty nods.

"Seamus, you are next!" Turtle screams out a battlecry. Turtle throws the boomerang as hard as he can. It flies straight into Seamus' neck. He puts his hands to the wound but only begins to bleed from the ears. 

Furious Frank chrages at them with a striking dash. 

Turtle barely dodges in time by rolling on the floor, but Ratty isn't so lucky. The old muscle man smashes right into ratty and they both go crashing to the floor.

"Hey! Watch it with my head, fat man!" Ratty cries.

"Stop callin' me fat!" Seamus smacks.

Turtle comes out of his roll and gets into a fighting stance. He's ready to defend his friends life.

Seamus gets up off of ratty, and rushes towards Turtle. Turtle moves to meet him, but instead trips over Mungo and falls down as well.

"Ha ha! Look at you!" Seamus laughs.

"Oh, you think this is funny? Watch it, creep." Turtle warns.

Before Turtle can even get up, Seamus has kicked him right in the face.

"Fuck!" Turtle groans.

Turtle is dazed and hurt on the floor. He's not getting up. "Well, it seems like you done it now, fat man."

Meanwhile, Ratty has finally gotten up off the floor and engaged Seamus in hand to hand combat. He's not doing too well for himself.

Seamus is a lot bigger and older than he is. He's also got a lot more experience fighting. Ratty has experience, has taken a lot of beatings fighting against stronger, older, and sometimes bigger opponents.

Seamus is taking advantage of every opening he gets. Ratty is getting the beating of his life, but somehow still standing.

Even with a broken nose and severe concussion, it isn't going to stop Ratty from fighting back. Not until he gets to eat that special cheese cake made by the secret cheese society. Soon, his entire face and head is swollen shut with blood pouring down his face. Still, he fights on. He knows Seamus won't stop attacking him until he's dead.

As for Turtle, he's slowly getting up as well. Though he's got a laceration on his forehead, and a bloody mouth.

"Hey fat man! You done?" Turtle taunts.

Seamus gets mad.

Seamus charges at him, and Turtle barely manages to get out of the way and just narrowly avoids a hit into the wall with a splatter of gore.

Furious, Seamus jumps high and grabs Turtle's head with both hands. He begins to squeeze and smash it against the wall.

The assault goes on for some time.

Ratty swings his bat to hit Seamus in the back. Seamus spins around and hits Ratty with his gauntlet.

As Seamus goes to swing a second time, Turtle surprises him by punching him in the crotch. This time, Seamus falls to one knee with a baby-cry.

Ratty charges at him and hits him again in the back with his bat.

Seamus begins to laugh manically. "I've been waiting for this punch to my crotch all my life." he says. "I'm still gonna crush your head."

Ratty charges again. This time, Seamus blocks with his gauntlet. He uses the metal to block the attack and send Ratty flying into a table.

Turtle pulls out the swiss knife from his belt that he took from Mungo. "This'll work." he whispers.

Quickly, he stabs Seamus in the neck. Seamus falls to the ground. He grabs the knife and begins to twist it. Blood squirts out and hits the wall.

"Ha ha! I'm not dead yet!" Seamus laughs. "But you will be soon." he says and dies.

Turtle sighs a breath of relief.

"Let's get out of here."

Footsteps can be heard, followed by loud screaming of more mafia men. Probably men Seamus rushing after hearing all the noise. Sounds like there are 3 of them heading towards here.

"Wait! Untie me," Gerard urges. "Quick."

Turtle races to free Gerard but whoever tied him up really knew their knots. It's going to take time to loosen these ropes and time is not a luxury he can afford.

"What's taking so long?" Gerard asks. lgnoring him, Turtle gives up on the ropes and starts wheeling him, chair and all, toward the exit. It's not going to take those mafia men long to figure out they were duped.

Ratty whispers : "Turtle! I found another secret exit door. Quickly!" Ratty leaves the place through the exit door in a hurry expecting Turtle to follow.

The wheels on the office chair rattle and squeal as Turtle hurry Gerard toward the exit. The wide open loading bay door and the salty sea air beckon. His heart pumps electricity to his arms and legs. He just wants to be out of here. It was another dead end and the culprit he was hired to find is still out there, even now cooking up some new devilry.

As that thought crosses his mind he hears an ominous whisper on his left. A large yellow cage, padlocked and full of propane tanks stands against the wall.

The shadows in that corner of the warehouse seem to coalesce and shift, like creeping black fingers. One of the tanks inside the cage vibrates and jerks like some invisible force is sending a current through it.

This tells him three things; 1: He is most certainly dealing with some form of black magic. 2: Lady Kelso isn't the only target. He is now on the list as well. Oh joy. And 3: He has just seconds to get out of the warehouse before it explodes.

The propane tank hisses and rattles and knocks around inside the big yellow cage like a kid on a sugar high. It causes a hell of a racket, drowned out only by the sound of his heels drumming the concrete and the blood pounding in Turtle's ears as he races for the exit, pushing ahead of him Gerard in his office chair. The other propane tanks pick up the vibration. The entire cage is rocking and rolling now, doing the shimmy-shimmy shake across the warehouse floor. It's going to blow any second. Wheeling Gerard along is slowing Turtle detective down.

He feels bad leaving the guy there, but survival is his first priority. He races through the loading bay door and a concussion hammers his ear drums. A split second later he feels the force of the explosion at his back. The resulting shock wave scoops Turtle off his feet, throwing him off the dock.

He goes head over heel and then impact the dark waters of the bay with a splash and a gurgle. Water rushes around his ears. Black envelopes him. The last of his air escapes through his open mouth. The bubbles race toward the surface in the form of silver jelly fish.

He followes the bubbles. His lungs scream for oxygen. His arms and legs feel like lead. His clothes try to drag him back down. The surface of the water is lit by the fire. Orange light dances and shimmers overhead. He will himself upward, desperate for air, sure he'll never make it and then his head breaks the surface.

He gasps and coughs, spitting out sea water in exchange for precious oxygen. It was a close race and for several seconds it's all he can do to tread water.

The warehouse is a fiery conflagration. Bits of burning debris float atop the water. Gerard and the office chair are nowhere to be seen. Poor bastard. Mafia men probably got caught up in the explosion too and are blown to bits.

Turtle paddles to the dock and sling one tired arm up, grasping for a hand hold. Fingers lock around his wrist. Ratty is looking down at him. He helps to Turtle back onto dry ground.