Falcon reached the street, sprinted for the nearest car, a decrepit-looking Ford. A bullet slammed into the vehicle, punching a hole the size of a man’s thumb in the door. Another shot blew out the passenger-side window. Something plucked at the shoulder of his jacket, something else buzzed past his ear. Falcon threw himself forward, into the shelter of the Ford, trying to tuck his shoulder under him for a landing roll. Not quite making it, he landed heavily enough to knock most of the air out of his lungs. He lay on the road for a moment, partially stunned, hearing bullets thudding into the car’s bodywork. A round passed through the car, shattered the driver-side window, showering him with fragments of glass.