You duck your head under cover as a second burst of fire from the doorway sends bullets thudding into the side of the car. Rickenbacker remains standing, seemingly unperturbed by the danger as angrily he works the bolt of his gun back and forth. Cursing, he slams the mechanism against the front of the car and, to his surprise, the sudden impact is just what is needed to dislodge the faulty shell.
With a vengeful laugh, he snatches the gun to his shoulder and squeezes off a long burst of fire that leaves the clansman slumped in the doorway. As he stops to reload, you hear running footsteps above and behind you. You turn in time to see two clansmen rushing to take up firing positions on the roof of a nearby bank. You shout a warning and Rickenbacker spins around to face the threat. There is no time to take aim: he must trust to his senses if he is to survive this confrontation. Firing on instinct, he sprays the parapet of the roof with bullets and catches the two clansmen before they have you in their sights. With gurgling screams they tumble from the rooftop and crash onto the street below.
‘Are you OK?’ asks Rickenbacker with some urgency, as he kneels by your side.
‘Sure, I’m fine,’ you reply uneasily, feeling embarrassed that you let him tackle the enemy single-handedly.
‘I thought you’d been hit,’ he says. ‘You sure you’re OK?’
‘Sure, I’m sure.’
‘Mmm, all right then,’ he muses. ‘I guess we’d better check out the bodies, jus’ t’make sure they’re Outlaws.’ You nod in agreement and follow as he walks across the street towards the fallen clansmen.