You are halfway there when a hail of bullets shatters the red brick wall only sparse feet from your head.
Your heart panicking with a flutter, you reach the corner end of the alley and explode into an open car park. A sign above a distant gate reads, "In pound Yard", with more cars then Trusty Vince's Car-O-Rama, optimism hits you as you dive behind cover and start getting as far away from the alley as possible.
After a few hundred meters of crawling in zig zag patterns from mud splattered pickups to dented old station wagons, the alarm has recede to a thin wail. Crouched against a hubcap, you take a moment to hustle a bit of breath into your lungs.
Now your only problem is what to do now?
Stand up and have a look around