I took control of his knife hand and bent the wrist hard. Living beings move away from pain. So the guy tried to get away, but I kept the pressure on, pushing him back towards the side street. He groaned. His eyes rolled back in small sockets. The Spyderco clattered to the street. I adjusted my body weight and twisted quickly, pushing the trapped hand back towards the arm and up. The little scaphoid bone in his wrist snapped like a dry chopstick. He gave a little shriek.

Shouldn’t have taken the knife out.

There was another high-pitched shriek from my left. Which turned out to be a uniformed policewoman blowing on a whistle. We made eye contact. Hers were hazel with green flecks. She had a police cap on. Her ponytail came out the back. She had little stud earrings, made a couple of steps towards me and grabbed my shirt. “Stay there.”

I relaxed and let my hands hang down, unthreatening.

Chapter Two

The policewoman was too close for her own safety. I could have done anything. I had total freedom of action. French cops use a Sig-Pro. Polymer grip. 9mm Parabellum. It’s alright. Decent bang for the buck. The gun was tucked away in a leather holster at her waist. Although a little thumb snap over the grip made sure she’d never be able to pull it in a hurry.

She dropped the whistle on its lanyard. Her fist clenched my shirt at chest level. Her hair smelled clean and good. She pulled a tactical radio from her shoulder and called backup. Then she looked at me, unflinching. She was way too close.

The policewoman wore a blue polo shirt with a name tag sewed in above her right breast. It said, ‘Nazari.’ The top button was undone. Officer Nazari was in her late twenties, early thirties. She had been in the sun recently. Her skin was gold with freckles below the throat. I looked back at her. She blushed.

I said, “What did you see?”

“I saw you injure two men in an unprovoked attack.”

“Which men?”

She darted her eyes over, but the thugs were gone. The people on line for the bakery gawked at us.

“There were three guys. One of them had a knife. They tried to rob me. Now they’ve gotten away. But it’s not your fault.”

She looked uncertain. I got it. From her point of view I had attacked a couple of guys. She hadn’t seen the knife. Hadn’t seen the leather jacket guy in the crowd. Just the two out in the street.

I said, “It’s alright. Do what you have to do. You can let go of me, I’m not going to run away.”

Nazari relaxed, but she didn’t let go. I liked her. I started feeling the adrenaline afterglow. My hands shook and I felt cold. I said, “Can I take off the backpack?”