Lance slammed on the brakes and brought the Volvo to a stop facing the sidewalk and entrance to the alley. The headlights picked up a puddle of blood and the smear of tire tracks where he had backed through it.

“I didn’t feel nothin’,” said Lance. “He ain’t hung up underneath.”

“You fuckin’ missed him!” yelled Rolly, clenching his knife.

“Out of the fucking car!” screamed Wizard, waving his gun in all directions.

The three men scrambled from the car and looked at the blood.

Wizard pointed to a trail of bloody marks along the sidewalk. “He’s gone this way, and you can bet he hasn’t gone far.” He stepped out on the street to look behind some parked cars.

“He’s got to be right here somewhere,” said Lance. “He hasn’t had time to make it to the end of the block,” he noted, while following splatters of blood to the edge of the curb.

The piercing scream of a police siren cut the night air, followed by screeching tires. The flash of a red light reflected off the wall as it approached the opposite end of the alley.

“Let’s get the fuck out o’ here!” yelled Wizard.

All three men scrambled back into the car and sped off in the opposite direction. Five minutes later, they pulled into another alley.

Lance retrieved a container of gasoline from the trunk and doused the car. He lit the rag on a beer bottle half-filled with a mixture of gas and oil and threw it on the car. Seconds later, the three men drove away from the blaze in another car.

“Get hold of the boys,” said Wizard. “I want someone at every hospital and clinic there is. If this rat-fucker doesn’t die first, I want him dead before some fucking doctor gets his hands on him!”

“Will do,” replied Rolly.

“You and Lance cover off the nearest hospital and clinic. Get reinforcements. Try and whack him before he enters. Be less witnesses to take care of.”

“Where ya goin’?” asked Rolly.

“Red. She’s a loose end. If the rat makes it to the cops, they’ll know she helped set ’im up. I’ll let The Suit know what happened, too. Just in case he hears anything.”

chapter twenty-one

The tires of Danny’s car screamed as he rounded the corner into the alley. There were no other cars in sight and he realized that the Volvo had backed out the other side.

He stopped briefly by the Dumpster and was relieved not to see Jack’s body. He jumped back in his car and continued on. At the end of the alley he saw a fresh patch of blood smeared by tire tracks. Fear ravaged his body as he slammed on the brakes and leapt from the car. His knuckles were white as he gripped his gun.

Seconds later, Jack crawled out from under a parked SUV. Danny helped him into the car, and Jack fell over on the seat and hit the switch under the dash. The siren stopped instantly. Jack yanked the light off the dash.

“What the fuck are you doing?” yelled Danny, scrambling into the driver’s seat. “You’re hurt! I’m taking you to the hospital!”

“No! I’m okay. They think I’m a rat! Let them keep thinking that.”

“You’re bleeding like a stuck pig! I’m taking you to the hospital.” Danny hit the gas and the car shot out of the alley and onto the street.

“It was Wizard and two others. I recognize their faces from the pictures but can’t remember their names. If you take me to a hospital or clinic they’re liable to finish the job. I don’t want them to know what happened to me.”

“Jesus Christ! I knew this would happen! You keep usin’ the fuckin’ alley — how am I supposed to protect you? Now you’re telling me not take you to the hospital! Goddamn it!” Danny hit the brakes and pulled over to the side of the road. “Turn around, I’m takin’ a look!”

Danny pulled up Jack’s sweatshirt and he yelped in pain.

“You’ve been stabbed in the back!”

“Did you teach them that?”

“Jesus Christ! Your arm! Looks like a bullet hole! You’ve been shot, too!”

“Went clean through. Lucky break.”

“Yeah, you’re real fuckin’ lucky,” said Danny sarcastically. “I’m taking you in. Then I’m calling in the troops and we’re going to find Wizard.”

“The hell you are! Putting him in jail won’t help!” Jack grabbed for the cellphone.

Natasha Trovinski looked in the mirror and quickly brushed her hair. She was pleased that Jack had finally called, asking if he could drop by.

She hurried into the living room, grabbed some books from the coffee table, and replaced them on the bookshelf. Would she have time to vacuum before he arrived?

The apartment security buzzer answered her question.

Moments later, she tried to hide her disappointment. Jack hadn’t mentioned that Danny would be with him.

“What a pleasant surprise! Come on in, you two. I’ll put some coffee on.”

Natasha looked again. They’re arm in arm. Jack is staggering…. Have they been drinking? Jack’s sweatshirt — it’s stained with blood!

“My God! What happened? Get him in here!”

“I just want to make it clear that I did not fall on broken glass,” said Jack.

“He’s been shot and knifed,” said Danny, as soon as she closed the door behind them.

“You fools!” said Natasha harshly. “I’m calling an ambulance. You should have gone to the hospital!” she added, rushing to the telephone.

“No! Don’t do that! It’s not that bad,” Jack insisted. “I don’t want anyone to know I’ve been shot. At least not now. I need time to figure this —”

“A hospital or clinic might not be safe!” interjected Danny. “It might be a policeman responsible for Jack getting shot! Please! You’ve got to help him!”

Natasha stared at the two men, then hung up the phone.

“Okay, let me take a look,” she said calmly. “Sit on the kitchen chair.”

Natasha quickly retrieved a first-aid kit from her bathroom vanity. She used scissors to cut off Jack’s sweatshirt, then she examined his wounds closely.

A purplish line bored its way from near the centre of Jack’s back up across his rib cage, where it disappeared. A small puncture hole in the back of his arm looked black, but the flesh had closed in around the wound and there was little bleeding. Natasha gently raised his arm to expose an exit hole on the opposite side that was still oozing blood.

“It looks like you were only shot once. I think the bullet reflected off the left side of your rib cage before travelling up through the biceps on your arm. I take it you were bent over at the time or in a prone position?”

“I tried to make as small a target as possible, while running like hell.”

“There’s another injury, exposing part of your left shoulder blade. You were slashed with a knife.”

“That happened first. I didn’t really feel it much then, but I do now.”

“So it’s not too serious? He’s going to be okay?” asked Danny, sounding hopeful.

“Have you been coughing up or spitting up blood?” she asked, ignoring Danny.

“No, but it hurts like hell to talk. Even breathing causes pain.”

“You should be x-rayed. I’m sure you’ve got some fractured ribs. The humerus, too, but it’s your ribs I’m concerned with. A fractured rib could puncture your lung. The slice across your shoulder blade is going to require quite a few stitches. How long has it been since it happened?”

“About half an hour,” replied Danny. “It was a policeman who did this?” asked Natasha, as she cleaned the wounds in preparation for the dressings.

“Not exactly,” replied Jack. “I set up a couple of City narcs to think I was an informant. Three bikers tried to kill me, thinking I was an informant. They don’t know I’m a cop. Someone is leaking information. Could be one of the narcs, or maybe a secretary in their office. They were also dealing with our Homicide Unit, so it could be someone out of our building.”