The Chicago Ascendant
The man in the alley was dead before he hit the ground, but Jack O'Malley didn't know that until the blood had already soaked through his shoes. He stood over the body for a moment, watching the rain dilute the red on the cobblestones, and felt something he hadn't felt since he was fifteen and running with a gang on Halsted Street: the cold, clean clarity of a man who has just made a choice he...
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