A voice behind me said, This.

Something hard slammed into the back of my neck and dropped me into the street. That's when I realized the kid had not been trying to get away. I had not trapped the black Toyota in the cul-de-sac. He had trapped me.

Chapter 15

THE NEW man was a muscular young guy with high and tight hair, bleached-grey eyes, and the brutal tan of a man who lived in the sun. He had the back of my shirt, dragging and spinning me to keep me off-balance, and punching down hard as I tried to roll away.

The man who hit me knew what he was doing. He moved fast to stay behind me, controlling me from behind as he punched me in the head. I didn't reach for my gun, and I didn't try to get up. You have a gun in a situation like this, you have to protect it; if the other guy gets it he will shoot you to death. And if you try to get up, you can't defend yourself, so I fought from the ground. Picture the detective as a crab on its back.

The kid from the truck shouted something I couldn't understand, then he was kicking me, but he wasn't as good as his friend. He stood over me like a light pole without bothering to move. I hooked a round kick through his ankles, and swept his feet from under him. The kid landed on top of us as the blue Mustang flashed into view.

When the kid fell, I dragged him closer, trying to roll him onto the first guy. The first guy clawed me backwards, but the kid bucked up and broke us apart. I turned to get the first guy in front of me, but he drove into me with his head down like a linebacker. The Foo Fighter was running toward us to join in the fight.

I went over backwards again, but this time I tied up the first guy and pulled him in close. He should have kept driving through me, but he jerked backwards, trying to get away. He was pulling back so hard that when I let go he popped up like a target. I hit him in the throat and the mouth, then hooked the kid high on the cheek with an elbow. The first guy was getting up when the Foo Fighter slammed into his back like a battering ram. The first guy went down face-first, but the Foo kept going. Pike powered him through the first guy and along a graceful arc into the side of my car. His collarbone snapped.

Then Pike had his .357 and I had my gun, and all of it stopped.

Pike said, Guess these guys aren't cops.