Pure White - The Wheelman

THOSE S.W.A.T. GUYS DON’T DICK AROUND, SAUGHERTY thought, as the smoking flashbang grenade pistol twirled once and slipped out of his hand. It didn’t have far to fall. Saugherty was already flat on his back on the concrete floor.

He sniffed blood, briefly noted that his eyes felt like burning charcoal briquettes, then passed out.

But not before he had one more thought: Shit, I’d hate to see the other guy.