‘What’s happened?’ demanded Yeomans.
‘The fight’s over,’ said Filbert.
Even his friends could not believe that Dagg had won the fight. When he was down on one knee and being throttled, it looked as if he was going to lose but the Black Assassin had reserves of power. As the grip tightened on his throat, he hit the side of Johnson’s head with a punch of such ferocity that it made his opponent release him and stagger back. Dagg leapt to his feet and hit him from all angles, exploring his paunch, flattening his nose, opening up another gash on his face and attacking him with such bewildering speed that he was unable to defend himself. After pinning Johnson to one of the boards, Dagg completed his assault with an uppercut that caught him on the chin and sent him sprawling into the sawdust. The champion had been defeated. It was a highly unpopular victory and some of the patrons tried to get at the winner in order to vent their anger on him. While O’Gara defended his friend, Fallon went off to collect his winnings. Johnson remained unconscious on the ground.
The warehouse was a scene of utter pandemonium. When Yeomans arrived with his men, it was impossible to pick out the fugitives at first. Dagg’s colour eventually gave him away. It was Ruddock who spotted the Black Assassin and pointed him out to Yeomans. The Runners pushed their way through the crowd to get at him and his friends. O’Gara and Dagg were still fighting people off when Fallon came charging over to them.
‘We’re leaving,’ he yelled. ‘The Runners are here.’
‘Moses is exhausted,’ said O’Gara. ‘He needs a rest.’
‘Then you’ll have to carry him out, Tom, or he’ll be resting in prison.’
‘I’ll be fine,’ said Dagg, looking at his bruised knuckles. ‘I’m used to pain.’
‘Let’s go,’ ordered Fallon. ‘They’ve probably got men at the doors but I know another way out. Follow me.’
He made his way towards a staircase in the corner of the building, throwing anybody brutally aside if they got in his way. The Americans went after him, O’Gara helping Dagg along. Though he’d won the fight, the Black Assassin had taken a fair amount of punishment and was aching all over. His body was awash with sweat and covered with the blood of his opponent. Ruddock came out of the swirling mass and grabbed him around the neck, only to be lifted bodily by Dagg and hurled away like a rag doll. Filbert got even shorter shrift from O’Gara. When he tried to arrest him, he was felled instantly with a punch between the eyes.
The person in real difficulty was Fallon. Yeomans had him in a firm hold. Having had the Irishman pointed out to him by Nathan Egerton, he’d caught him at the bottom of the stairs. Fallon fought back but Hale arrived to help his colleague. Between them, the Runners overpowered him. When O’Gara and Dagg reached the stairs, they saw that he was unable to escape. Ready to attack the Runners, their intervention proved unnecessary because Fallon’s dog came to the aid of its master, biting Yeomans and Hale in turn and forcing them to release their grip. While the animal kept the Runners at bay, the three men went up the stairs and ran along a landing until they came to a window. Though it was a long drop to the ground, they jumped out fearlessly and rolled over as they hit the flagstones below.
‘Meet me back at the ship,’ ordered Fallon.
‘Where are you going?’ asked O’Gara.
‘I’ll lead the Runners astray.’
‘Thanks, Dermot.’
O’Gara fled into the darkness with Dagg. The dog had now appeared at the window and was yapping away. Fallon gave the command and the animal hurled itself out, landing safely in his master’s arms. After hugging the dog, Fallon patted the full purse at his belt. It had been a very profitable night.
There was considerably less profit for the Runners. Though they scoured the river bank for the three men, they were unable to catch any of them. All that Yeomans and Hale had to show for their efforts were some shredded clothing and some nasty bites on their legs. Ruddock’s coat still bore the marks of Dagg’s sweat and Johnson’s blood. All three of them paid a second visit to The Jolly Sailor. Ruddock was ordered to pay for the drinks. While they were quaffing them, Yeomans issued an edict.
‘Nobody must ever know about this,’ he said.
‘We ought to tell the Home Secretary,’ suggested Ruddock.
‘He’s the last person to be told.’
‘I don’t see why, Mr Yeomans. After all, we did track the three of them down to that warehouse and we did tackle them. We showed intelligence and courage.’
‘What use are they for a dog bite?’ said Hale, sourly.