Luke pulled his trigger and the sound was loud in his ears, deafening. His ears rang and it was like his head was inside a helmet stuffed with cotton. The only sound was the ringing. It went on and on, as if someone had hit a bell with a hammer and then let the vibrations play out, like ripples on a pond.

The shot had hit Parr in the center of his chest.

No body armor for Parr. He was the king of this castle, and he probably hadn’t planned on going outside today. A spot of blood appeared on his shirt, then began to spread. Soon it became a lake.

He looked at his chest, then looked at Luke. His left hand reached up and touched the blood on his shirt. His fingers came away red. His jaw hung slack. His eyes were wide with surprise.

His gun was still pointed at Luke.

“Don’t you dare pull that trigger,” Luke said.

Parr looked at the gun in his hand.

Ed Newsam was standing again. He suddenly walked over and took the gun away. Parr stared at him for a second and then fell to the floor. His head made a noise as it connected with the stonework. To Luke, it seemed as if he could almost feel the impact through his feet.

Ed turned and pointed Parr’s gun at Luke’s head. It was a large caliber handgun. The end of the barrel was a gaping maw, a tunnel you could drive a truck through.

He did it so quickly and without hesitation that for a split second Luke really thought Ed was going to shoot him.

“How’s it feel, man? You like that?”

Now they pointed their guns at each other, Parr on the floor between them.

Luke gestured with his head at Parr. “Check him.”

“I can’t believe you just did that,” Newsam said. “Are you crazy? First you didn’t signal me in any way that you were going to make the arrest, even though I asked you to. You put my life at risk. Then you nearly shot me in the head. I felt the breeze go past my scalp. I’m not a piece of furniture, okay? You want to risk someone’s life during an operation, risk your own life.”

Luke looked at him. He lowered his own gun. If Ed wanted to shoot him, so be it.

“Check the subject,” he said. “Tell me if he’s dead or not.”

The gun wavered.

“Do something. Check him or shoot me. I don’t care.”

Newsam kneeled and checked Parr’s pulse. He shook his head.

“He’s gone.” He looked up at Luke. “But you and I need to talk.”