He went to the head of the alleyway and looked left and right for a second time.

Still clear.

Björn held up his finger and spun it in the air, giving the signal to move. He clutched his weapon, stepped out and crossed the street with the others close behind.

They didn’t get far.

There came the crack of a pistol from somewhere down the street. Stucco exploded from the side of the house to Björn’s right.

“Get back!”

Another shot rang out and Björn heard a grunt of pain. He backed right up, bumping against La Bruja and pulling her with him. They fell back to the passageway from which they had just emerged. A third shot chased them there, this one cracking into the wood of a telegraph pole.

“I’m hit.”

Eight was slumped against the wall, clutching his stomach with both hands. Blood had already saturated his shirt, and now it was pouring over his fingers. A gut shot, in a place like this, under circumstances like this? He was as good as dead.

* * *

Chase pounded the hood of the car behind which he had taken cover. La Bruja was there. He had seen her, taken a shot, and missed. The woman had been at the back of the group, and she had been pushed back into the cover offered by the narrow alleyway.

“Hey.”

Chase swivelled around, bringing the gun with him, but saw that he wouldn’t need it. It was Hicks. The Englishman kept low, slipping into the cover offered by the car and putting his back against the wheel arch.

Chase glanced up over the hood.

“They’re in there,” he said. “The alleyway.”

“How many?”

“Two men, two women.”

“And her?”

“Yeah. I took a shot. Missed her. Think I got one of the others, though.”

Hicks nodded. “Ziggy,” he said, cupping the microphone closer to his mouth. “Where’s Milton’s tracker?”

“Just across the street from you,” he said.

Hicks muted his microphone. “Milton wasn’t there?”

“I didn’t see him. You think he planted the tracker on them?”

Hicks nodded.

“What are we going to do?” Chase said.

Hicks sucked his teeth. “They can’t go back,” he said. “The soldiers are on the other side.”

“So?”

“We wait. We stop them coming out this way. Flowers is on top of this. We wait for the soldiers to get here and leave it to them.”

Chase felt a flash of anger. “No. Not good enough.”

“She’ll be arrested.”

“And you think that’ll stick?”

Hicks didn’t reply.

“It won’t,” Chase said for him. “She’ll be out on the street again in a week and you know it. That’s not justice. I didn’t come all the way here for that.”

110