I peeked around the corner. Two sharp cracks and the bricks exploded in front of me. I whipped back around, sweat dripping down into my face. I gripped my weapon tightly, I could feel the veins in my hand throbbing.

I cursed softly and stepped out from my cover. I brought my weapon to bear and tightened my finger around the trigger. With a roar the weapon jumped one, two, three times. I heard a cry, and a clatter.

Blowing some of the sweat off my lips, I cautiously moved forward. My target was curled on the ground, the pistol a few steps away. I kicked the pistol to the side. I took aim, knowing if I didn't pull the trigger, I'd find a bullet in my back.