RICK TOOK THE STAIRS two at a time, crashing out the door seconds ahead of Tony’s men. The chase drew no attention from the few people lingering around the closed bodegas. He hadn't expected it would. Not in this neighborhood, not at this time of night.
He ducked into an alley without glancing back. Ahead was a locked chain-link gate. Without breaking stride, Rick leaped up and scrambled over. The men were rushing toward him. He fled. A few inches ahead of him a bullet struck the wall. He picked up speed. Another chunk of brick exploded near his head.
Rick looked for a place to hide. The surrounding buildings were a no go, all locked up tight. The next alley over had a fire escape. He couldn’t reach the ladder so he stepped back and took a running start, kicking off the wall to grab the last rung.
On the landing above he crouched in the shadows, heart pounding. If only he hadn’t seen the things he’d seen, been forced to do what he’d done. A quick, panicked check assured him the flash drive was still in his pocket. He had the evidence, but who could he trust?
