"Nate I..."

The sound of glass shattering was the first thing they heard. Then came the gunfire. Michael bent forward taking cover behind his seat, pulling Nate down with him.

"What the hell?" shouted Nate.

The wing-mirror by Michael exploded, shattering the window. Glass rained down on him.

"We've got to get out!" he shouted back at Nate.

He pushed his brother away from him, keeping his head down low. Nate didn't need telling twice. He fumbled for the door handle and flung the door open. Staying down low he crawled out. There didn't seem to be anybody on this side of the car. Taking the opportunity and trusting that Michael was right behind him, he made a mad dash for some cover.

Michael watched as Nate ran away from the car, the gunfire continuing. Michael felt the car drop, the tires having been blown out. He had to get out of the car and fast. Who knew how long he had until one of the bullets hit the gas tank?

Crawling into the passenger seat, he looked out across the empty space. Keeping low, he ran towards Nate who was crouched between a dumpster and a fence.

"It's Johnny and his crew," said Nate when he came to a stop next to him. "Why the hell is he shooting at us?" he said, outraged.

"'Cause Fi blew up his car."

"I say again: why is he shooting at us?"

Michael didn't dignify that with an answer. He peered round the dumpster to see how many were shooting at them. He could see Johnny and the two men that were with him the other night. There were also two other men. Five in total: not the worse odds he'd had. Of course, they were all carrying sub-machine guns and all he had was his SIG, plus whatever Nate was carrying. Which would do them little to no good, their best chance of survival was too run. Or a tactical retreat for better words. Coming back behind the dumpster, he looked at the surrounding area. No cover from here to the end of the street. They'd be sitting ducks. Their only option was to get over the fence that blocked off a housing development.

Crawling forward, Michael kicked at the wooden panels until some of them came loose. Pulling them out of the way until he had made a hole big enough so they could both squeeze through.

An explosion ripped through the night air, the gunfire coming to a halt.

"Go," ordered Michael, pushing Nate through the hole. He followed through quickly. With any luck Johnny would believe they were dead and leave it at that. Of course, the likely hood of that happening was slim to none.

He was running to catch up with Nate when he heard shouts coming from the other side of the fence, followed quickly by engines revving and tires squealing. Guess Johnny didn't believe them to be dead.

He picked up his pace, overtaking Nate and leading them down an alley that would take them another street further away from Johnny and his crew.

"You think we lost them?" panted Nate as they slowed to a walk five minutes later.

"I hope so," Michael answered still looking around, hyper aware of the area. He was leading the two of them back to the main road. Even if Johnny did catch up to them he wouldn't do anything. Even Johnny wasn't stupid enough to fire his MAC-10 in public, or so Michael hoped.

"Actually I'm going to go with no," said Michael as he came to stop as a car pulled out of a side street in front of them, blocking their path. Johnny grinned at them from the passenger seat, his gun already pointed at them. They had no escape. They couldn't run forward or backward down the street. They'd be mowed down.

"Time for a shortcut," said Nate as he ran to the nearest fence. Leaping up, he grabbed the top and pulled himself up and over and into the back yard of the nearest house. Michael didn't question his brother, only followed after him. He heard Johnny shouting again. He couldn't help but smile until he heard the car doors being opened and slammed shut. Guess they were coming after them on foot this time.

Nate was already climbing over the next fence, going into the neighbouring garden. He was up and over before the first of Johnny's crew had made it over the first fence.

"Do you know where you're going?" Michael called to Nate.

"Kinda," Nate grunted in return as he pulled himself over the next fence. Michael could see his brother was starting to tire. Hell, he was starting to tire. They wouldn't be able to keep this up forever.

Gunshots were being fired again. Michael dropped into the next garden just as the fence exploded into splinters as the bullets shot through it. He couldn't help the involuntary cry as the wood pierced his back. Hundreds of splinters tearing through his shirt and embedding in his skin like needles. Staggering forward his knees gave out as the pain raced through his back like it was on fire. Crouching on the ground, he screwed up his eyes as he tried to control his breathing. But every breath sent more pain through his back.

Nate stopped running when he heard Michael shout. The gunfire had stopped. Had they shot Michael? Rushing back to his brother's side he couldn't see any gaping wounds. Yet Michael was knelt on all fours gasping for breath. Kneeling down, he got a closer look at his brother with his shredded shirt and the spots of blood.

"Shit," he muttered to himself as he realised what had happened.

Looking back to the fence, he saw it wobble with the weight of the guys following them. They had to get going. Pulling out his own hand-gun from the back of his jeans he fired a few quick shots at the fence. That should slow them down, and with any luck he might of actually hit someone or at least give them something to think about,

"Come on, the Charger is only a few blocks away." Nate hauled Michael up to his feet, ignoring his brother's sharp intake of breath. He dragged Michael forward and guided him into an open garage. Letting go of Michael he pulled the door down behind them, blocking Johnny's path. The distance between them and Johnny was getting smaller and now that Michael was injured that distance would only keep on decreasing. He needed to slow Johnny down. But using the rest of his bullets wasn't really an option.

Michael was already making his way towards the back door of the garage, only a bit slower than before. Putting his gun away, Nate pulled down the standing shelves behind him, making as many obstacles as possible for Johnny to cross.

The garage door was starting to slide open as Nate rushed out the back door. Slamming it shut he then grabbed a discarded box and threw it against the door. He doubted it would slow Johnny down for long, but they needed as much head start as they could get.

Michael was back to running, well, jogging was a more accurate description. Nate ignored this. If he dwelled on it, started to think how hurt his brother could be...

Brushing that thought aside before he could finish it, he was just thankful Michael was still moving. He ignored the amount of holes in the back of his brother's shirt and ignored the spots of blood that had grown in size in the short amount of time. He even ignored the fact that Michael was slowing down rather than keeping the pace, or better yet, speeding up.

They were back to heading in the direction of the main street. Nate could already hear the traffic, and if he wasn't mistaken he could hear sirens. He smiled. He never thought he'd be happy to see cops. He urged Michael to pick up his pace. They were nearly there. He could here Johnny and his crew shouting, their footsteps getting closer.

Michael gritted his teeth as the splinters in his back pulled at his skin. Every time he moved it was like a cheese-grater slicing into his skin. Taking that bit extra off him. His shirt felt like sand-paper as it moved across his back, pulling at the wood still embedded in his skin. If they just made it to the main road they'd be okay. He kept repeating that same phrase over and over again in his head. If they just made it to the main road they'd be okay. Anything to take his mind off the pain.

He had to keep going, for Nate. He would not, could not let his brother down again. He looked back over his shoulder to see how close Johnny and his crew were. Too close for comfort. Turning back he could actually see the red and blue flashing lights of cop cars. Ignoring the feeling off his own blood sliding down his back, ignoring the shearing pain in his back as the splinters tore at his skin.

Putting on that last bit off speed, he almost ploughed straight into to one of the police cars as it skidded to a halt in front of the alley entrance. He jumped and slid across the bonnet, stumbling slightly as he landed.

"Police! Freeze!"

Michael ignored the cop as he just about avoided another cop car skidding to a halt. The amount of shouting that came from the police officers was deafening. He crouched on the floor, but when no one came over to him he looked up to see four cops shoving Johnny and his crew to the ground, kicking their guns away.

Trying to hide the amount of pain he was in, he slowly followed after Nate who was already blending in with the growing crowd that were watching the bust. The cops hadn't noticed him. They had been too focused on the gang with sub-machine guns running into a crowded place. With slow controlled breaths he moved further into the crowd. This would not be a good time to scare the tourists and get unwanted attention.

A third car, an unmarked police car, pulled up to the scene. Michael turned to look who got out and was not surprised to see Detective Paxson. He was even less surprised when she started to look over the crowd first instead of her newly acquired law breakers.

He grinned at her when she spotted him, before disappearing into the crowd completely. No doubt he'd receive a visit from her in the morning. But right now he just wanted someplace safe where he could collapse.

-BN—