He heard soft footsteps behind him. That didn’t bode well. Who would follow him, late at night and in this narrow alley in the middle of the notorious waterfront? Especially now that he had shot the thing of his life and was about to leave with the loot!
Had one of his countless colleagues had the same idea, watched him and waited, only to relieve him of the fruits of his labor? Or did the footsteps behind him belong to one of the myriad lawmen in this city, and the steel eight around his wrists was about to snap shut? He could already hear the request to stop.
Haunted, he looked around. Suddenly he caught sight of a slim passage. In a flash he turned right and disappeared between the two buildings. He almost fell over the overturned garbage can that lay in the middle of the path. He tried to feel his way in the darkness and froze: apparently there was no other way out of this small courtyard than the passage he had come through. The footsteps got louder and louder, he saw a dark shape coming around the corner. Feverishly, his eyes wandered through the night darkness, looking for a way out. Was it really all over now,