Jack decided he would stick with the original plan and continued on down the street. He paused in front of a small open-air restaurant while pretending to drink from the mickey and saw Hoodie quickly cross the street farther behind him. Jack swayed slightly on his feet and gawked toward Hoodie, who pretended to look out toward the river while waiting to see what Jack would do next.

Jack saw more figures moving amongst the shadows behind Hoodie and knew his cover team was closing in.

There was an empty lot leading up to the abandoned building and Jack made a show of trying to take one more guzzle of rum. He then shook the empty bottle as if discovering it was empty. “Wha’ the fuck!” he slurred, before tossing the bottle into the deserted lot.

As Jack staggered along the street, he could hear Hoodie’s footsteps quicken as he closed in.

Chapter Thirty

“Excuse me, sir! I am wondering if you could take my picture? Do you speak English?”

Jack saw a tourist standing inside the abandoned building. Damn it! Not now … He glanced back at Hoodie who was too close to pretend to linger and would be forced to keep walking.

“Sir?” asked the tourist.

“Uh, yeah, okay,” said Jack as he entered, but pretended to stagger and leaned over the railing facing the street as though he might be ill. Hoodie gave a furtive glance at the tourist, then kept his head down and walked past.

“Sir, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” snapped Jack. He didn’t want to strike up a friendly conversation and hoped the man would leave as soon as possible.

Conditions could not have been better for what he planned. He had opportunity to escape from the building and there were more than enough people on his cover team to subdue Hoodie. Martial arts would be no match for the guns that Pom and his men carried.

“Just a picture of me sitting on the railing with the river behind me,” said the tourist, extending his hand to pass Jack the camera.

Jack nodded and pretended to study the camera, while watching Hoodie cross to the far side of the street again and step into the shadows. It caused a problem for part of the cover team who were forced to continue walking past, but there was a bend in the street and Jack knew they would be able to double back and use some bushes for cover.

“You push the little silver button on the top,” offered the tourist, trying to be helpful.

“I know how to use a camera,” said Jack, sounding sarcastic. He took a picture and quickly handed the camera back.

“Oh, dear,” said the man, as he took the camera and turned and looked over the railing.

“What now?” asked Jack.

“My glasses. They were in my case and I had set them on the balcony. They must have fallen off. I’m practically blind without them.

Jack peered over the edge. There was some light reflecting onto the rocks below and a small path wound its way alongside the building to the rear.

“I’m nervous to go down there and look,” said the man. “Would you mind waiting until I get them? In case I fall or something.”

“You stay and I’ll go look for them,” said Jack.

Moments later, Jack paused near the front corner of the building, pretending to steady himself, as he stared at the path going down to the riverbank. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hoodie watching from the shadows farther down the street.

Good. Wait another couple of minutes and come back and join me. We’ll have a little surprise for you …

Once Jack was at the bottom of the path, he carefully stepped out onto the rocks and broken pieces of concrete that lined the riverbank. He was confident that Hoodie would wait for the tourist to leave before making his move, but still kept an eye on the spot where the path rounded the building.

Moments later, he saw the tourist round the corner and head straight for him. The tourist had an odd gait, seeming to bounce with each step. His eyes were focused on Jack and he moved with agility as he left the path and deftly leaped from rock to rock toward him.

Rabbit!

Jack had about three seconds before contact and knew that once alerted, it would still take his cover team at least thirty seconds to assist. To turn and try to run on the rocks would also leave him open as an easy target.

“This is a hell of a pickle!” yelled Jack, before stumbling and falling. He regained his balance with one hand and stood up as Rabbit closed in.

Jack tried to smile innocently, while swaying on his feet as Rabbit quickly drew back his fist in a classic karate attack. The stance was intended that the fists would work opposite of each other, while one drew back, the other struck.

Randy and Jim had managed to circle back and found a place to watch Hoodie from the parking lot of the Imperial Golden Triangle Hotel. The lot was directly across the street from the abandoned building.

Pom and two of his men had remained farther down the street past Hoodie, but had positioned themselves in some bushes that were close to him.

Randy heard Jack’s unexpected code word for help over his earpiece.

“Oh, shit! Jack’s in trouble!” yelled Randy.

As Randy and Jim ran across the street, Jim radioed Pom that help was needed immediately. Neither Randy or Jim waited for Pom as they ran down the path leading to the riverbank.

Pom and one of his men followed seconds behind. Hoodie, alerted by the yelling tried to run away, but was pursued and tackled by another man from Pom’s team.

Jack blocked the first blow that Rabbit aimed to his solar plexus. He believed that following a punch to his solar plexus, Rabbit would likely deliver a blow to the base of his neck, while simultaneously smashing his head back with his other hand.

Rabbit’s face registered a slight flicker of surprise when Jack blocked the first blow. Killing an unsuspecting drunk should have been easy.

“Rabbit!” Jack yelled, thinking his knowledge of his name would shock him and cause him to stop.

Rabbit’s face registered shock, but instead of slowing him down, it appeared to motivate his actions further. His opposite fist moved with lightening speed and he muttered, “You’re dead, you fucker,” as he directed his second blow at Jack’s groin.

Jack turned slightly sideways, absorbing the blow to his hip and striking back.

He only hit Rabbit once, but it was enough. The fist-sized piece of concrete Jack had picked up when he pretended to stumble found its mark on Rabbit’s temple.

Rabbit fell to the ground like his body was made of Jell-O. Jack quickly rolled him over onto his stomach and grabbed his arm, forcing it up his back to pin him in place.

“Guess what, asshole, I’m not the drunken wimp you expected!”

Rabbit did not reply and Jack realized that his body was completely limp. Still holding his wrist, Jack felt for the pulse in the carotid artery. There was none.

“We’re here!” yelled Randy, as he rounded the corner first, followed by Jim and then Pom, who aimed his gun at Rabbit.

“No need,” said Jack, standing up. He felt his hands trembling from how close he had come to being killed and folded his arms across his chest. He nodded toward the corpse. “That is one dead bunny.”

Chapter Thirty-One

With the time difference, it was only six o’clock Friday morning when Staff Sergeant Rose Wood answered the phone on her bedside table and listened as Jack explained what had happened.