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Johnston dived behind a barrel as the gigantic bullets of the heavy stubber smashed the metal of the wall behind him. Johnston held his autogun low, in his right hand, and peered through the murky gloom of the underhive to try and identify where the awesome weapon was.

Above him, two more gangsters hurried across a walkway, desperate to cross while the stubber was concentrating on Johnston. Their long trench coats billowed behind them. On the other side of the walkway was a low wall, ...