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cry.
    At Cole’s side, she whispered, “Come on.” She fought a stab of dizziness. Halfway between her and the street stood a cluster of dumpsters. “Let’s see if we can make it to those trash bins.”
    She rose to a crouch. He followed her example, and they crept to the wall, one painfully slow step after another. A disturbance in the shadows a few feet to her left caught her attention. She leaped forward, hands fisted. The shadow shifted. Jesse punched, hitting a hard mass of stomach muscle. Her opponent fell back a pace. Then he leaped, kicking with his left then his right. He missed her by a good inch and Jesse kicked in a tight arc, missed his jaw, but hit the nose. The thug cried out in unison with Cole’s loud grunt.
    She turned and sprinted for Cole. A woman suddenly appeared in her path. Her fist crashed into Jesse’s jaw, snapping Jesse’s head back. Jesse hit the woman in the ribs with a left then a right. Ribs cracked, but the woman didn’t cry out. Leave it to a woman to take pain better than a man. Jesse thrust an elbow into the woman’s stomach and nearly struck her scrawny spine. The woman groaned and collapsed. Her companion had been right. She was a bitch.
    Jesse whirled to see Cole jump back from a knife slice at his midsection. The thug drew back to stab. She clamped her hands together and raised them. A wave of dizziness, this one stronger than the last, caused her to clench her teeth. She brought her fists down on the thug’s neck. He jerked, whirled, and swung at her.
    She blinked at his blurry form. He jabbed, and dull pain stabbed her outer thigh. Jesse grabbed his wrist, twisted under, and heard the bones crack. The knife clattered onto the asphalt. Cole landed a kidney punch to the man’s abdomen and he fell to his knees. He tried to rise, but Cole kicked him viciously and the man landed on his back with a meaty thud.
    Jesse looked at Cole. “Not bad.”
    “Let’s get out of here.” He grabbed her wrist and dragged her toward the street.
    “Wait.” Darkness shimmered like a heat wave through her. “There’s another one.”
    “You said two,” he replied without halting.
    She tried focusing on the alley. Where was the tranquilizer gun? There had been an eighth man. “I-I was wrong,” she slurred “There’s another one, the shhhooter.”
    They’d nearly reached the street and no shooter had materialized. Maybe the dart had come from a single-shot model which lay in the alley with one of the attackers. Lamplight spilled into the alley entrance, and Jesse breathed in relief a second before someone yanked her out of Cole’s grasp from behind. She spun and struck a wall as her attacker caught Cole in a chokehold and pressed a Steyr nine millimeter special purpose pistol against his temple.
    “You should have come quietly, Jesse,” the shooter said. “If not for our friend here,” he jerked Cole back, “we would’ve had you.”
    Jesse looked past Cole’s broad shoulder at the shooter, who stood five nine, with a little flab on his arms and the beginnings of a spare tire around his waist. The guy talked tough, but his fear cut through the air. In any case, if she made a move, Cole would die.
    “You can’t kill him and shoot me before I get to you,” she told the guy.
    His gaze flicked to the gash in her arm, then back at her face. “The drug’s already working. In twenty seconds, you won’t be a factor.”
    “You’ll kill him anyway.” Jesse saw Cole’s fists clench, but kept her focus on the shooter, hoping the cowboy had sense enough to keep cool. “Leave no witnesses.” It was a shot in the dark, but maybe she’d strike a nerve.
    The man’s mouth twisted in an arrogant smile, and Jesse flicked a disgusted look at his Steyr nine millimeter. The fool thought he could play with the big boys. He didn’t understand that Lanton’s leave no witnesses rule would eventually come to roost on his doorstep and he’d never see it coming.
    “What do you want?” she