Being a D.O. was one thing--getting into something solo was another. I could get killed, for all I knew, and maybe by a lawman's gun. That was a risk I ran on every job, but in this case, I didn't even know, yet, what was going on. The smart thing to do would have been to pass the word to my SBI contact, but that would take too much time. There was nothing I could do but dive into this mess head-on, and hope I'd have time to yell for help later. I was about to turn into another alley that ran back to the main street when I heard the coughing of a Saro airgun and the faint sizzle of a Colt in reply. Instantly, I was running silently up the alley. One hand unzipped the chest of my coverall, and the other one dove in and grabbed the butt of the heavy Sturmey that's my favorite man-killer. I reached the mouth of the alley and stopped abruptly in the shadows. A man lay in the middle of the street, unnaturally flat against the concrete slab. The street lamp up the block was dark, its base surrounded by shattered glass. The Saro went into action again from the roof of a building across the street. I saw the slugs chip cement from the railing of a flight of steps four doors up. A pale blue flare winked from behind the railing, and the man with the Saro ducked, but was up again as another gun raked the stairs from a spot on my side of the street. I didn't like that setup one bit. The Sturmey in my hand went _whoomp!_ and the man on the roof sailed out over the street and landed with a crunch. The other gun cut off abruptly. Two Colt beams probed for it from the stairs, and that clinched it. It was Pat, all right, and somewhere, she'd become a fair hand at street fighting. "Hey, Pat!" I yelled, and ducked away from the storm of bullets the other gunman flung at me. The result was what I'd hoped for. The man had exposed himself to Pat's fire by shooting at me. The Colts sizzled viciously, and the burst of Saro noise stopped in mid-clip. A gun clattered on cement. I poked my head cautiously around the corner. Silence blanketed Rocket Row, and then was tempered by a scuffing noise. Up the street, a leather belt was being pressed against the side of a building by the weight of a body that was sliding slowly downwards. I spotted a glowing dot that was a tunic smoldering around a Colt burn. "Ash!" "Yeah?" "You okay?" I grinned. She sounded a little worried. I sprinted across the street at a weaving run, and dove behind the stairway. "What happened?" I asked. "I don't know--but I've got an idea. I got about a hundred yards up the street when I spotted this guy tailing me. I yelled, and he ducked. At the same time, this other fellow started running toward me across the street. I burned him down, and ducked in here just as the bird on the roof opened up. That's it, until you came along." I swore. I didn't go for three men gunning one girl. I looked over the top of the railing. One or two people were starting to come out of doorways.