“What the hell?” Ray asked, whirled, and headed for the door.

But Stevens was closest. He threw it open and rushed out into the corridor, but before he could take more than a step, he tripped over something in the doorway and fell flat in the hall. The Angel, right behind Ray, looked over her husband’s shoulder, an expression of horror on her face.

“Jamal!” the Angel cried out.

“I’m afraid so,” Ray said. “What the hell is going on here?”

Jamal Norwood’s battered corpse had been laid out before the door to the captain’s office. There was no doubt that he was dead. His face had been smashed by either some object or a brutally powerful fist and one eye was hanging from its broken socket. The other was staring blankly. Ray hunkered down before the body, put his fingers on Norwood’s cheek as Lonnegan and Mendelberg joined them at the doorway. Stevens had scuttled back to his feet and was looking at Norwood’s corpse in horror.

“Sorry—didn’t see him, not at all—”

His voice stumbled to a halt as Ray looked around.

“He’s cold. Been dead for a while.”

His words were punctuated by gunshots. Louder now that they were out in the hall, and much more numerous.

“Nothing we can do for him,” Ray clipped.

He stepped over the body into the hall.

“Come on,” he said, and went down the hall. The Angel and Lonnegan on his heels, Stevens right behind.

It took only moments to reach the chaotic squad room. The Angel blinked. It couldn’t have been any different than it’d been the moment they’d left it. Armed thugs were squared off with knots of cops. Another suddenly fell from the ceiling and crashed onto facing desks, feetfirst. He staggered, dropping a bag, and coins fell tinkling to the floor, scattering everywhere. The newcomer rose reaching for a gun and before he knew it Billy Ray was on him. He had five inches and fifty pounds on Ray, but it did him no good. Ray took care of him while the Angel looked to the ceiling. There was a hole in it, as round and smooth as if it had been bored out by a corkscrew, and a head was looking down at the chaotic scene below.

Tesseract! The name flashed into the Angel’s mind. The American Hero ace who had already racked up an unsavory reputation as a thief, but had never yet been caught red-handed or even arrested. Had she killed Jamal?

The Angel ran forward three steps and called her wings to her and surged up into the sky, but the startled young ace snapped shut the portal before the Angel could reach her. Frustrated, the Angel did a snap roll and caught one of the gunmen from behind. He screamed as she lifted him up from the floor and threw him hard against a wall. Plaster cracked and rained down upon the donuts sitting naked in their boxes. A sharp burst of gunfire destroyed the coffeemaker and hot liquid spewed over that quarter of the room, sending combatants scurrying for safety from the boiling coffee. An scruffy-looking one-eared tomcat sat under a nearby desk and yowled, his tail blown up to the size of a bathroom brush.