Taking a deep breath, he let his mind cycle through how this could go down. There would be at least four men, maybe more, but he and the others had more than enough firepower to take them out. Plus, they had the element of surprise on their side.
The Luchesi men wouldn’t even see them coming.
It was strange there only seemed to be one vehicle when there was supposed to be two.
Mickey cautiously peered around the side of the forklift, and he counted five men coming up the ramp.
Not a problem.
The men unexpectedly coming from inside the plant behind them, however, were going to be a big problem.
Mickey didn’t even have time to call out a warning before he was being fired upon. He shot back, rolling to the other side of the forklift to take cover. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
The loading dock instantly erupted into chaos, the Luchesi men pinning them down from both sides. Crybaby and Duncan managed to shoot their way away from the door and retreat behind the pallets where Roger was hiding.
Mickey was still trapped by the forklift, and there was nowhere for him to go. He popped out, fired two shots, and the five men at the door became three.
It was only a small victory because there were at least ten more men working to surround them. The bastards were using the maze of pallets for cover and steadily advancing.
There was no way those men snuck in while Mickey and the others were here. They would have seen them. The only explanation was that they’d already been here, waiting for them inside the damn plant.
This was a fucking trap.
Mickey slid to the other side of the forklift, peering out to fire again. Another man dropped, and all of the Luchesi men’s firepower was now focused on him. He shrunk down, cursing loudly at the hail of bullets whizzing all around him. He was trying to think of what to do next, but then he heard Roger shouting.
“Eat this, you fuckin’ cunts!”
Mickey had no idea what that could be—
The pallets beside him suddenly exploded, and Mickey was thrown back by the blast. His ears were ringing, and he tasted blood in his mouth. Groaning, he fought to get up and find new cover.
He was totally out in the open like this, but the whole room was spinning, and his vision was fuzzy. He didn’t know which way to go for safety. He didn’t even think he could stand up.
Crybaby was still shooting, screaming, “Fuck! Somebody! Grab Mickey! Come on! Ahh,fuck!”
Mickey watched in horror as she went down, and he turned to see who shot her.
Salvatore Luchesi was standing right there, having stepped around from the protection of the pallets to make the kill.
“You fucker!” Mickey snarled, trying to focus his aim as he fired.
The bullet grazed the side of Salvatore’s face, and he fell back behind the pallets, howling in pain.
No!
Mickey had missed!
Fuck!
Mickey kept firing until his guns were empty, furious he had missed his target. He didn’t want to give Salvatore a little scratch; he wanted to blow his head off! He managed to drag himself behind another stack of pallets near the bay door to reload, and he grunted as the entire building rocked from another explosion.
Roger was suddenly right beside him, yelling, “What the fuck is happening?”
“It was a fucking trap!” Mickey shouted back. He blinked several times, trying to shake off the disorientation. “We were set up!”
“I’m almost out of grenades! I’ve only got one left!”
“Who the fuck gave you grenades?”
