As Van descended the stairs, he had no real thought other than to get out of sight of the rest of them, and swallow some more of the painkillers. His arm was throbbing badly, after the exertion of the shooting inside the apartment, and he didn't think he'd be getting any sleep anytime soon. As Van pulled open the door at the bottom of the stairs, his good hand was already ratching in his pocket for the box of pills. The last thing he expected when he opened the door was to see Albulka, the gang boss himself, standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at him. For a moment, both men froze, and simply stared. Then the boss turned and ran, and Van's hand went to flick back his coat. He pulled out a Colt revolver, compact size making it easy to draw, and got off a shot, clipping Albulka's fleeing figure as he ran down the stairs. The shot knocked the gangster sideways, but he was up and continued running down the stairs. Van gave chase, calling up to Ford.
"He's here! Albulka's here!" Then he was running down the stairs, away from the safehouse and out into the city night, with only his issued revolver and Ford at his back to protect him.