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sets of co-conspirators who have to take some of the blame.
engine suddenly increased as it picked up speed, turned and started heading down the dirt track towards the BMW. Stewart broke into a run as he saw the motorbike kill its front light. He could see the motorcyclist outlined against the lights of the city now. He appeared to be pulling something out of his jacket. “GUN!” shouted Stewart, and started to draw his own from the holster under his left arm. As his hand, slick with sweat and rain, fumbled at the clasp, his right foot made contact with something. The smooth sole of his left shoe betrayed him on the soft earth. He
