“Geoff, go out the front! He’s running!” I shout as I enter the room with Bryan.
Logan is halfway down the fire escape when I leap onto it. The rickety metal shakes as we storm down it. Logan fires, the bullet hitting and sparking a few inches from my hand. It doesn’t stop us. Nothing will. Bryan returns fire, missing too. Logan hits the ground first, sprinting down the narrow alleyway as he fires wildly before rounding the corner onto the street.
When we reach the street I spot him crossing Ditko Ave and disappearing behind the shops. The police cruiser does a U-turn, lights flashing. Geoff runs out of the building and the patrolmen jump the curb to stop him. He can take care of himself. I stay on Logan’s tail. No way in hell I’m losing him.
We haul ass after him for three blocks, gaining ground, until he goes inside a bodega. People inside the store stare as we run through. I can tell his path by the fallen food in the aisles. He went out the back, the door slamming shut as we enter. Logan’s about halfway down the alley when we run out. At the same time an SUV skids to a stop on the street, cutting off his means of escape. I’d be thrilled if I didn’t recognize the car as one parked down the street from Logan’s apartment. The gun pointed out the window doesn’t help my general “Oh, shit” feeling.
Dodd sees it too. He stops dead, holding up his gun at the car. It takes me all of a split second to figure things out. Bryan pulls me back into the store. Logan and the men in the car fire at the same time as he runs for cover behind a dumpster. Dodd hits the side of the car, but the assassin misses. The passenger leaps out of the car as he opens fire. At the same time the driver fires as well. Two against one. When the passenger starts running toward Logan, who is huddled behind the dumpster, too afraid to move or fire, I can’t wait a moment longer. I know it’s a stupid move the moment I make it. I run out, shooting at the men to cover my ass. Logan could easily hit me, but he just watches as I race toward him. Prison or death, he’s picking the right one. Bryan is right on my tail, returning fire too. There are so many gunshots I lose track.
I’m just about to reach Dodd when an invisible truck hits my chest, knocking the wind out of me. I spin around and fall behind the dumpster. I don’t know if it’s the shock or adrenaline but I feel no pain, just pressure below my right breast. There’s a flattened gold slug in my coat. It burns my fingers when I pull it out. I have the wherewithal to point my gun at Logan, whose own hangs limp in his hand. He’s in shock too.
Bryan runs toward the car and I hear tires squeal as the car drives away. There are no more shots. A moment later, my bodyguard returns, gun pointed at Logan. “Drop it,” he commands. Like a zombie, Logan does. “You okay?” Bryan asks me.
“I’ll live,” I say, still having a hard time breathing. “The men?”
“One’s dead, but the other got away. I couldn’t get the license plate.”
Sirens come closer. My brothers in blue. I look at Logan, who stares into space with his knees pulled into his chest like a small child. I almost feel sorry for him. “Logan Dodd, you are so under arrest.”
***
All it took for me to get back on the case was a gunfight and bullet to the chest. Small price to pay. I’ll have a bitch of a bruise, and be in pain when I turn, but the bullet broke nothing. I got shot and only have a bruised rib. Thank you, Justice. They wanted me to go to the hospital, just in case, but there was no way in hell I was missing a minute of the drama I set in motion.
Cam arrived first as I was being examined by paramedics. I gave him the Cliffs Notes version of the events and after a minute of screaming at me, he went off to take charge. Geoff wouldn’t leave my side, even when I had my shirt off. I did convince him not to call Justin. I don’t need that right now. I also instructed all the first responders not to mention names, so the press doesn’t get wind of the Alkaline connection. Right now this is nothing more than another shooting in the Ward.
Poor Bryan was taken away in handcuffs to be questioned. I gave Mirabelle and Kowalski my statement, so Bryan should be released by tonight. If this isn’t justifiable homicide, I don’t know what is. The poor guys drew the short straw and have to investigate this mess. I don’t envy them, or me for that matter. Internal Affairs is going to kick my ass.
Kowalski is still going over my statement as I sit in a patrol cruiser with ice on my ribs when Harry lifts up the crime scene tape and sprints over to us. A tech tries to stop him to ask a question, but he waves her away. It takes effort, but I get out and stand. Without a word Harry takes me into his arms. It hurts, but I don’t let on. I squeeze him back. “Are you okay?” he asks.