Dirty Harry 09 - The Killing Connection by Dane Hartman

police to run the killer to ground. Otherwise they’d be nothing better than a lynch mob.
    Having finished his speech, Steele left his low podium to move among his people on the floor. He stepped off to his left first, walking right up to Kim and her partner, taking one of each of their hands in both of his. After a quick firm handshake, he moved on, clasping hands with many others.
    There was a sea of people between Harry and the SAFE leader so the cop moved forward as the crowd surged around Steele. Judging by his rate of progress, Harry could catch up to the man halfway toward the door. Both men kept pushing their way through the mass, each intent on a different purpose. Steele was smiling, waving, and handshaking like a winning politician, while Harry was only intent on catching up.
    He didn’t worry about Byrnes. She had gotten decent instructions from Wu on how to act. She’d be friendly and open, but reluctant to go further than that. Her story was she had just broken up with a lover and wasn’t ready to get into anything serious. If the partner became too insistent, Byrnes could tell them about the death of her best friend. That would cool anybody’s ardor.
    Callahan turned his head to take a last look at Byrnes before he approached Steele. Over the bobbing heads of the others pressing to reach their leader, he could see their table was now empty. Harry’s head whirled around, but he couldn’t spot Kim or her companion anywhere. It was possible that he had lost them among the masses in the smokey interior.
    Suddenly worried, Harry pressed harder to reach his quarry. He was able to break through the general audience, but then he came up against a circle of Steele’s cheerleaders, who acted, in this case, like Secret Service men. They weren’t professional guards, however, so Harry was able to move around toward the front to circumvent them. He was just a few heads away from Steele, his hand already outstretched, when he heard a gasp coming from the left.
    He looked in that direction just as Steele was about to clasp his hand. “Oh my God! It’s him!” he heard a strident voice say. “It’s Harry Callahan!” He saw the words emitting from the mouth of an overweight bearded young man with glasses. As the words reached his ears, he thought he vaguely recognized the boy.
    That made no difference to Steele, who automatically gripped Harry’s fingers, not comprehending the meaning of the bearded man’s words. But when the kid saw that, he jumped forward, shouting “No!” He pushed their two hands apart and stood protectively in front of his leader, pointing at the undercover cop as if he had the plague.
    “Don’t you understand?” he all but shrieked. “That’s Callahan! Inspector Harry Callahan. He’s the one who shot our four brothers.”
    The cop recognized him now. The bearded man was one of the many people who crowded the Justice Department steps, camera or tape recorder in hand. He was a reporter. His shout and push was enough to stop Steele’s parade right in its tracks. Callahan saw that when the SAFE leader heard the word “police,” he went deathly white.
    The scene remained frozen that way for what seemed like minutes. But then the reporter put a more potent cap on his interruption by saying, “Watch out! He might have a gun!”
    Steele was suddenly pulled back, his protectors surging toward the surprised policeman.
    Harry moved quickly. He certainly wasn’t interested in taking on the entire San Francisco chapter of SAFE. He turned and charged toward the door.
    His way was blocked by four beret-topped SAFE men. Just as quickly as he tried to run, Harry spun back and opened his coat to show them that he carried no weapon. No sooner had he revealed that than somebody punched him in the stomach.
    The woman in the middle of the SAFE guards had stepped forward and let Harry have it as hard as she could. He doubled over, his arms wrapped around his waist. The girl moved in to kick him in