The shootout would certainly soon draw the actual police and the cameras above meant Pitcher’s ID was no secret. The bodies would be pinned on him and JDC would become his home again – at best.

Of course his assailants got orders from somewhere, and they still stood. Hooligan’s was now blown and Pitcher had to get out. The hallway was empty, quick inventory check:

Pistol with 16 rounds
Holotablet
USNE Credit Ring – obviously traced now
Clothes on back
Incriminating bloodstains
Fleshwound to right tricep – controllable bleeding

He’d been in worse, but not much.

Juno Station was now dead man’s land, the underground was his only hope. He had to exit Hooligan’s now and disappear. His quarry was still out there – Ishikawa. Time was a luxury Pitcher didn’t have.

The goons and the shooter could not have come from his current employers, so who else wanted him dead? That list was long and stale.

The end of the hall had a small window. Pitcher was through it and down to the shadowy alley below in 30 seconds.