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The bastard rounds the corner, dodging out of sight along the side of Mom’s apartment but I’m still following, the snatched-up Glock in my hand… Pelting around, I skid to a halt, ducking back as a shot Pings at my feet. Dodging back out of sight, I flatten against the sheltering wall, pistol at the ready as I peer round the corner. PingsThe gunman is at the end of the passage, Cara held against himself as cover, retreating as, gun aimed behind, he backs off. My own weapon held at the ready, I hesitate. Dare I fire? I’m simply not a good enough shot. Breathe… Breathe… … then try again. And he’s vanished, taking Cara with him. Another shot. Another Ping. And Cara’s retreating wail. Ping.Fuck! Swiping at my eyes, for the third time, I try. This time, there’s no answering fire as I