"I have no need for Memory Recoders!" Lysandra screamed.
"Oh, but that's where you are wrong," Morpheus challenged, grinning.
"Morpheus," Simon began in a warning tone. "Maybe this is a bad idea."
"Bad idea?" Morpheus repeated. "Oh, Simon, you can be so spineless at times." With that, he took one hand away from Lysandra's shoulder and stuck it in his pocket. When his hand reemerged, it held a gun, which he then pointed at Simon's head.
Simon's eyes went wide and his lips parted in shock. "Y-you wouldn't," he stammered.
"Who says? Anyway, trying to protest is the only true bad idea," Morpheus said. "Try to escape this job and I'll put one of these precious few bullets straight into your head."
"Morpheus," Simon warned again.
"You agreed to this, Ferry," he snapped. Lysandra heard the gun's chamber click, the bullet lock into place. She shrank back against the wall, shaking. Morpheus's grip tightened on her shoulder.