I throw my weight into the garbage can. It falls over and spills across the street. The flash grenade blends in with the rest of the trash.

I turn my back and hear the electric pop-whine as the grenade discharges. For a split-second, the alley lights up bright as the sun. I hear a chorus of surprised screams.

Still ducked low, I swing around the corner to take inventory of my pursuers. Of the big, trench-coated men, all four are holding pistols. Three are on their knees, ...