Sudden screams from outside the alleyway drew the ginger cop's attention; he glanced away, across the street, lowering the gun a fraction from Hawk's face.

"What the hell--"

In one fluid movement Hawk grabbed the arm that held the gun at its wrist, yanked the cop forward, and--neatly--delivered an uppercut to the man's jaw. If he was going to be stupid enough to look away from Hawk--

The cop felt back flat on the concrete, stunned if not out cold, blood running from the corner of his mouth. Hawk turned his attention to the second cop.

"Okay," he said flatly, "I have walked too damn far just for you to put a bullet in my face."

But the second cop had already pulled out his own gun, glaring. "...Well now you deserve this," he grunted. Hawk lunged, gathering a fist in the man's shirt, and pulled his other fist back, just as the cop brought the gun up to his head.