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His quarry turned right at the end of the block, then right again, and again

Cursing, Garth pulled over and stopped ‘You crafty bloody bugger!’

As soon as his ne u-turn, turned left at the corner, left againjust in tilimpse of the other car as it disappeared into a back lane He left off all pretense of stealth now, and careened into the alley at forty-five hts flashed, a car fishtailed into a narrow alley on the left, he geared down just enough to execute the turn, sto the lane that no one happened to step out into his path

The unmistakable percussive sound of a car crushed like a tin can up ahead sent his foot for the break with a volition all its own To his right the air see, found the narrow lane to the right Fifty feet ahead he saw his quarry, broadside to hiainst a crumpled dustbin

Even frole of the driver’s neck that he was dead as a rat with its crushed neck pinned by a sprung trap