Chapter 87
“D C POLICE! Everybody put the guns down. Do it now! We’re police officers. Guns down on the ground.”
Sullivan saw the cops, and they looked like detectives, two buff-looking black guys in street clothes.
They were coming up behind the Mafia hoods who were standing near Thirty-first Street and trying to figure out what the hell to do next, their next move.
So was he.
What a sight the two cops were, though, and Sullivan wondered, Could they be part of the task force put into Georgetown to catch the rapist, to catch him?
Hell, he’d bet a bundle that’s what they were, and if it was true, he was the only one in the alleyway who had figured it out so far.
One of the cops was already calling in for help. Then the two mob guys near Wisconsin just turned around ? and they walked away.
The detectives had their guns out, but what were they going to do? Realistically, what could they do?
Sullivan almost began to laugh as he turned slowly and walked toward Wisconsin too.
Then he began to run, a full-out sprint toward the busy street. Madman that he was, he started laughing his ass off. He’d decided to brazen it out, just run. Like in the old days back in Brooklyn when he was a kid making his bones in the game.
Run , Mikey , run. Run for your life.
What could the DC metro cops do? Shoot him in the back? For what? Running? Being the potential victim of four armed men in an alleyway?
The cops were yelling, threatening him, but all they could do was watch him get away. Funniest thing he’d seen in years, maybe ever. The cavalry had come to the rescue ? his.
Huge mistake.
Theirs.