The Hood of Justice Read Online Free

it smelt like fly spray, but sweeter. If that helps."
    Casey piped up, "It's an Armani fragrance, I'd bet."
    "Whatever you say. I have no clue." The man was now near his serving bench. Other attendants were bringing out the food. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some poor folk to feed."
    Bruce offered a slight bow. "You've been most helpful…mister…what was your name, I didn't catch it?"
    "Alistair. Name's Alistair McMillan."
    With that, Bruce led Casey out of the soup kitchen. One of the helpers went with them, but such a gesture wasn't to escort them out. The kitchen was open and the line of the underprivileged shuffled into the large room, single file and without words. Casey felt sorry for each and every one of them. Even more so for the many who would miss out. No wonder the sharks preyed on them. Ten bucks and a guaranteed hot meal was a life saver when someone had absolutely nothing except an empty stomach. Such an incentive would make anyone do almost anything.
    When they left the kitchen, Bruce said, "What shop sells that sort of perfume, anyway?" They were heading back toward the car. No sooner had he finished his sentence, and before Casey could answer, he stopped. Casey caught his breath. When Bruce got like this, he knew to listen and listen good. He had also grabbed Casey by his shoulder to emphasise in no uncertain terms he wanted his full attention, too. Casey was all ears. "Do you get the feeling we're being watched right now?"
    "No…I mean, I don't really know…why?"
    In that second, Bruce bolted to a sprint, running toward an alleyway between the Salvation Army building and a rival thrift shop, screaming, "C'mon, Casey, move it. I think we've found the eyes which were scoping us out."
    Casey didn't waste any time. He ran, too.
    Everything happened so fast. Minutes became seconds. Casey ran and ran, his heartbeat loud in his ears, his breaths deep so he could keep his body from getting oxygen deprivation. The alleyway was long and dark, yet, with the aid of the moonlight, he noticed someone running up ahead. 
    Bruce had almost caught him up. That's what Casey loved about Bruce. Besides the fact he was a great big hairy bear with a cock that could choke him to Nirvana--the locker room saw to it they knew what they all wore under their uniforms--he was as determined as a dog with a bone when it came to getting his crim. Bless his heart. 
    The air no longer clung to the cold, perhaps because Casey ran so hard, exerted all of his stamina to get to the perp, he no longer noticed or no longer cared. Either way, he was pounding the ground, running as fast as he could to not only get to the man, but to aid Bruce as well. He dodged cans and rubbish, jumped over fallen debris which seemed to be strewn everywhere. He even had to hurdle over what he believed was a shopping trolley, but couldn't be sure. The thing was covered in so much filth and rubbish.
    There was a scream.
    Casey's heart skipped a beat and he cursed himself under his breath for being slow off the mark when his partner told him to run. Was Bruce okay? Did the perp have a weapon? Would he be able to get there in time?
    All these questions wheeled around in Casey's mind as he ran on, faster and faster, sweat pouring out of every pore, his lungs bursting to try and get more and more air into his strained body. He ached. His vision tunnelled as his focus fell on one thing and one thing only, to get to the perp, no matter what.
    Casey could see the man they pursued was cornered. The alleyway blocked by a burnt out car. Sure, he could have jumped to scramble over it, but if the man felt half as exhausted as Casey right now, then such a feat would have been a tall order. Casey was fit. The man wasn't. 
    The perp had a knife.
    Bruce kept his distance, but was threatening to un-holster his gun if the man didn't do as he demanded. He was being ignored. Casey had an idea. He shouted, in the most forceful voice he could manage considering he had just done