#33: Mandible’s Manoeuvre.

Checking the magazine of his gun, Drake saw that he was down to his last bullet.

“Drat,” he said, pushing the magazine back into place. He had to make this shot count.

Drake crouched, muscles coiling like particularly taut bedsprings, ready to spring, silently counting to three.

On three, he launched himself out into the open, squeezing the trigger.

The bullet hit one of the robbers, who was wearing a flack-jacket and was flung backwards.

Drake, still mid-leap, stretched out his right arm to cushion his fall. Hitting the ground, he rolled behind the next pillar and came up in a crouch.

A potted plant standing next to his column was swept up and heaved at the robbers.
The gunmen panicked and shot it to pieces, showering them with soil and shattered pottery.

As they coughed and spluttered, trying to brush the dirt out of their eyes, Drake leapt to subdue them...