A picture paints … well, as many words as you like. For instance:
“You go straight ahead, I’ll take the side street and we should catch him before he escapes.”
“You go straight ahead.”
Jenkins was about to prove why he should have been left back at the base. It was not the first time he displayed insubordination.
“I gave an order, Jenkins. Move out.”
He didn’t. He stood in front of me, truculence written all over his face.
“I’ll go,” Wallace said. “We don’t have time for this.”
I shrugged. He was right. Bently was getting away while we dithered.
To Jenkins, “You take the side street. I’ll back Wallace up.”
He seemed more at ease and left.
I’d taken no more than ten steps, Wallace just in sight ahead of me, when I heard the shot, loud and clear, followed by an echo off the close walls.
I double back, carefully headed up the side street, till I came across Jenkins’ body.
If only …