time to think
about it. His long shot had paid off and there was still a chance he
could get Costa out of the trap he had let him walk into.

The lights had burned an after-image into his retina. Before it faded he
reached out and felt his fingers slide across the dusty ground into a
patch of wetness. He scrubbed at it with his sleeve, soaking up the
blood, wiping the spot fiercely. With his other hand he pushed together
a pile of dust and dirt, spreading it over the stain. As soon as he was
sure the stain was covered he slid forward, groping for the second
telltale splash.

Time was his enemy and he had no way to measure it. He could have been
lying in the rubble of that alley for an hour--or a second. What was to
be done, had to be done at once without a sound. There were silent,
deadly men coming towards him through the darkness.

After the second smear was covered there was a drawn out moment of fear
when he couldn't find the third and last. His fingers touched it
finally, much farther on than he had expected. Time had certainly run
out. Yet he forced himself to do as good a job here as he had with the
other two. Only when it was dried and covered did he allow himself to
slide forward into the cellar entrance.

Everything was going too fast. He had time for a single deep breath
before the shriek of a whistle paralyzed him again. Footsteps slapped
towards him and one of the searchlights burned with light. The footsteps
speeded up and the man ran by, close enough for Neel to touch if he had
reached out a hand. His clothing was shapeless and torn, his head and
face thick with hair. That was all Neel had time to see before the guns
roared and burned the life from the runner.

Some derelict, sleeping in the alley, who had paid with his life for
being in the wrong spot at the wrong time. But his death had bought Neel
a little more time. He turned and looked into the barrel of a gun.

Shock after shock had destroyed his capacity for fear. There was nothing
left that could move him, even his own death. He looked
quietly--dully--at the muzzle of the gun. With slow determination his
mind turned over and he finally realized that this time there was
nothing to fear.

"It's me, Adao," he whispered. "You'll be all right now."

"Ahh, it is you--" the voice came softly out of the darkness, the gun
barrel wavered and sank. "Lift me up so I can get at this door. Can't
seem to stand too well any more."

* *