Savage made a wild grab for the door but found it locked. He ducked instinctively as Colt thunder erupted beneath him. A bullet burned his forearm as Savage yelled to Angela to open the door. But it remained steadfastly shut while a badly-leaking Johnny Dukes was doing his level best to knock him off the landing.
Only one thing left to do.
Getting his back against the wall, Savage braced his boots against the heavy rail, summoned every ounce of strength and bad temper, and heaved.
For several seconds, with the Texan still firing at him like a fool, it seemed the stairs were going to hold. Savage gave it the last of what he had. A tearing sound was followed by the groan of protesting timbers and next moment Savage was hanging by one hand to a brass door handle as half a ton of staircase plummeted thirty feet into the alleyway below.