Cole started to argue. Something about the whole thing was making him nervous. This had blown itself up into a lot more than an arrested purse snatcher com mitting suicide. Thomas Holliday’s street connections obviously went deeper than just snatch and grab.

But Rick was already out of the car. Cole sighed, patted his jacket just to assure himself that his gun was in place, and crawled out of the car.

“Watch yourself,” Cole warned. “I’m going to tell these kids to make themselves scarce. Wait for my signal before you come in the back.”

Cole’s quiet orders sent the children scurrying into the closest house. The once-noisy neighborhood was suddenly quiet.

Cole waved to Rick and then headed for the front door.

Rick nodded and started around behind the house to get in position.

Then a single gunshot rang out.

Everyone exploded into action. Rick grabbed the hand radio from his belt.

“Shots fired! Shots fired!” he yelled. He quickly gave their location and began to run.

As he ran, he ducked, and using the heavy, untrimmed shrubbery for cover, he made his way toward the front door. He dared one quick glance through the window. The thin curtain gave away only the faintest hint of a man moving through the front room.

Cole crouched, tested the doorknob and, when it turned freely, shoved the door open wide.

“Police!” he yelled. “Come out with your hands up.”

A round of bullets sprayed through the open door way, gouging huge chunks of concrete out of the porch. Cole’s heart sank. It figured. The criminals always had the high-powered stuff, while the police were relegated to using regulation weapons that were often outmatched.

Footsteps pounded, running through the small house…running away from Cole’s position. He quickly ducked inside the house, his gun held in position, his eyes searching the dim depths of the house for the assailant. He got one quick glimpse of a man lying on the floor. Jackie Warren?

The man was heading out the back. And then Cole remembered the bullets. He shouted at Rick as he ran.

Rick heard Cole yell. He positioned his gun and stance and waited for the door to open. Cole kept shouting something about bullets and cop killers, but he had no time to react to the warning.

The door was kicked open. The man exited on the run, his semiautomatic spraying the entire backyard as he made a dash for the high fence surrounding it.

Rick squeezed off one shot. It hit high on the man’s leg. Just for a moment, he staggered, and Rick made his mistake. He stepped out of concealment.

Wild with pain and desperate to escape, the man turned. Rick felt the first bullet catch his side. There was no pain, only surprise. And then nothing at all.

Cole saw it happen. He came through the back door in time to see the man hit and Rick move.