Jack came home with a smile on his face. The headline had been good. "Hey Skitts. Did Racetrack do anythin'?"
"I don't know."
Jack frowned. "What do ya mean- 'I don't know'?"
"Just that. He left, and I wasn't sure whether to follow or not, so I didn't."
Jack growled. This was not the ending of the day that he wanted. "Well, let's go find him." He grabbed a couple of newsies from the Lodging House and assigned jobs.
"Mush, I want you and Blink to be the backup. If we'se dying, you'se gonna kill the enemy. Got it?" They nodded.
"Skittery, I want you to… stick with Boots, be a scout. Tell me what you see up ahead. I'll be the commander. Any questions?" No one responded, so Jack said, "Let's go."
Just a little closer…NOW! Race jumped on Sykes right when he passed by the hallway Race was hiding in. Race strangled Sykes the best he could. Sykes felt for his gun, but when he got it, he couldn't aim it at Race. Pulitzer grabbed the gun and aimed it at Race's head. Racetrack looked up, and jumped off Sykes as soon as Pulitzer pulled the trigger. The gunshot went off, and Sykes fell to the ground clutching his shoulder. Pulitzer dropped the gun in shock and turned to run to his office. Race knelt down and grabbed the gun, but Pulitzer locked himself in his room before Racetrack got a good shot at him. He heard Sykes stumble to his feet, and turned to point the gun at him instead.
"Don't move or I'll kill you!" Race screamed in rage.
Sykes held his shoulder, but stopped advancing on Racetrack. He held up his injured arm. "Hey kid, you don't want to do that. What did I do to you? I'll make it up, just tell me what I did."
Race spat at Sykes's feet. "Don't gimme that! YOU KILLED SPOT!"
"Spot? I killed your dog? Look kid, I'm really sorry, but dogs don't live forever. He would've died soon anyway, I'm sure." Sykes slowly reached into his back pocket for a knife. Racetrack's eyes widened.
"MY DOG? WHY YOU BASTARD—" Race tried to keep yelling, but he had to fight back tears. Sykes brought the knife forward. Race pulled the trigger. Sykes flinched, but nothing hit him. He looked back at Race and saw him pulling the trigger multiple times.
"Kid, can't you take a hint? It's empty." Then he lunged forward with the knife outstretched.
Race caught Sykes's wrist, but fell backwards with the impact. He kneed Sykes in the stomach, giving him time to roll away from the knife's point.
