He noticed the old grey panel truck not because it lacked lettering along its sides, not even because it was new and carried Illinois license plates. But because of a slight hesitation in its approach, a momentary pause in the even note of the engine as it drew abreast. As if the driver was satisfying himself that he had arrived in the right street, at the correct address.
Or that the person he was passing was the one he sought. Premeir had the impression of heavyset men – he couldn’t tell their numbers – crowded into the truck. Men dressed in anonymous gray. Then it accelerated, sped up a slight rise and vanished into the dip beyond.
Premeir continued his unhurried pace. But the zipper of the plastic holdall was open now and his right hand was already inside, wrapped around the pistol grip of the 1911 .45
He saw the panel truck slewed across the road at the bottom of the depression as he breasted the rise. There was no other traffic in sight. Two men were crouched behind the hood. Two more were running for clumps of stone at each side of the road. A fifth appeared between the open rear doors of the truck. All of them were armed with Thompson machine guns.
Premeir didn’t wait for them to fire first. Maybe they had orders to simply get the drop on him and bring him in alive for questioning. At any rate the Thompsons did not open up the moment his head and shoulders appeared in view.
Premeir flung himself to the side of the roadway, finger tight around the .45's trigger. Fired from inside the plastic suitcase, the gun spewed out a blaze of death that ripped through the fifty yards separating Premeir from the truck so quickly that the killers behind the hood died before they had a chance to shoot. The diminutive .45 cal rounds drilled through metal, mangled pipes and hoses and wiring, and cored through human flesh. A cloud of blood sprayed through the air as the hardmen fell.
By the time the three others opened fire, Premeir was prone on the hill, his body shielded by the stone heaps.
Flame spurted from between the truck’s open rear doors. .45 ACP death bringers scuffed the tarmac at the roadside and whistled through the coarse grass above the ditch.
Premeir jerked the .45 cal from the carryall, snuffed out the smouldering edges where the gun’s muzzle-flashes had melted the plastic, and fired again.
He unloaded a clip of destruction hip-high across the doors. The gunner crumpled to the ground, with northern daylight showing through his skull.
Two hitmen remained in the ditches.
Premeir dropped the case, leaped to his feet and sprinted across to the far side of the road with the .45 in hand.
A stream of slugs struck sparks from the granite chips in the pavement as he ran. But the gunman on the far side had revealed his position. Flattening himself behind the opposite stone pile, Premeir hammered another burst low down through the tall grass. Small clods of earth fountained into the air and spattered the roadside. He heard a strangled scream. In the far ditch something flopped briefly among the grasses and then lay still. There were no more shots from that side of the highway.
Four down and one to go. Premeir crawled stealthily along the depression, inching his way downhill in the hope of seeing the last killer before he had a chance to fire. Figuring he could finish it with a single blast, the guy stood upright with a grenade in his hand.
He hadn’t reckoned with Premeir’s split-second reactions – or the .45 semi auto's rate of fire. Premeir caught him with the full force of a four round burst when the arm was still drawn back to throw. The bomber collapsed into a huddle of blood-stained rags. The grenade flew from his hand and exploded harmlessly on the  turf near the truck. Shattered glass tinkled to the roadway.

Premeir looked around and made sure the area was clear before emerging from his cover. He straightened his collar, picked up his plastic carry all and found his way to his car. Things were heating up and it was time to lay low. Premeir drove to the railyards and ditched his car. He hops on a train to New York , he has to find Deano, of all people Deano would have some answers of what just happened.