Unencumbered by my gun, I now had two hands free. My right was still weakened from the injury I’d taken in Colombia, but it was better than nothing. I got a hold on the roof, then grabbed the balustrade with my other hand. Kicking and digging with my toes, I finally found a seam in the wall and I pushed and pulled myself up and got my forearm over the edge of the catwalk. It was an effort to drag myself up onto it, and when I finally looked there was a broad smear of blood advertising my exertions. I lay there a moment, my view full of blue sky as I sucked in air.

Finally, I craned my head over the edge and peered down at Rink.

He grinned back at me, teeth just a shade whiter than his drained features. Rink worries about me, even though I tell him not to.

He was holding my SIG.

For a second I expected that he’d try to throw it back up to me. I pulled out my Ka-bar and showed him I was armed, so he jammed the SIG into his belt.

“Where is he?”

It was strange hearing my own voice. It came to me like an echo in a tunnel, another effect of adrenaline.

“Must have gone to the front. Forget him, Hunter. Come down, we can take him when he tries to make a break for it.”

I held up the knife. “Got to finish this, Rink. You know me, right?”

“Right. Except you’re bleeding like a stuck pig and he’s still got a gun.”

“What’s new?”

He shrugged, seeing the point. I’d been injured and outgunned before and when had that deterred me? Sometimes when the thrill of battle takes me I’m just too pigheaded for my own good, and it takes Rink to remind me. This time, he just held his peace. He knew this was our best chance of stopping the murderer.

Two troopers ran past Rink, heading for the front of the hospital.

Taking it that they’d been summoned by their colleagues, I had a good idea where Rickard had got to. Didn’t fancy my chances of making it up and over the sloped roof with my lame leg, so I set off along the catwalk, heading for the corner. Blood pulsed from my wound with every step.

Ideally I needed to staunch the blood loss and lower my racing heartbeat or I’d bleed out in minutes, but I guessed that reacquainting myself with Rickard was more imminent than that. I could hear the thuds of someone making their way along the roof just around the corner.

My first thought was, Maybe I shouldn’t have given up the gun after all.

Rickard had one and I didn’t.

That put me at a distinct disadvantage.