A man shows you his weapon in his hand, he's a fool if he doesn't mean to use it.
I drew out the pistol I'd been carrying in my pocket all this time, wrapped in plastic. I got it out of the damned bag pretty quick while the man was looking crazy-eyed at Angel and bringing his piece up.
It was no trouble at all to fix him in the notch. Couldn't have been more than thirty feet.
But going down he gets one off, and I feel like somebody pushed at my left calf. Then I'm rolling. Drop my pistol, too. I end up smack facedown on the hardtop, not feeling anything yet.