Someone in the shadows opposite cut loose with something automatic, something silenced so efficiently that there was only the machinelike burr of a slide working, and the stitching sounds of bullets. Both Fontaine’s windows vanished instantly, and the glass front of the counter as well. Rydell found himself on the floor, unable to recall getting there. The gun across the street stopped abruptly, having chewed its way through a full clip. He saw himself down in the basement range at the academy in Knoxville, ejecting a half-moon clip from the stock of a bull-pup assault rifle, pulling out
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