“I had some tucked in my underwear!”
“What the fuck! You’re not wearing any!”
“Where’s Crybaby? I don’t see her!”
Sirens blared in the distance, and Mickey roared furiously. “Now we’ve got fuckin’ cops? Fuck!”
“Where is she?” Roger demanded. “Did you see her get out?”
“Where’s Duncan?” Mickey quickly countered, ducking around the pallet to return fire.
“He ran, the little shit! After the first grenade, he just took off! I don’t know where he is!”
“We’ve gotta go.” Mickey closed his eyes and tried to steady his breathing. “If we stay here, we die or the cops will nab us.”
“What the fuck do we do?”
Cold had told them to memorize escape routes, and Mickey’s first plan would have been to retreat into the plant and leave through the front door. That was impossible, which left his second plan—cutting through the parking lot and grabbing the van.
Wait, shit, no. Crybaby had the keys.
Okay, new plan: cut through the parking lot and go over the fence.
Not his favorite idea, but they were out of options.
“Give me your fuckin’ grenade and cover me!” Mickey holstered one of his guns and snatched the grenade from Roger’s hand. He took a big breath and stuck his head out from the pallet.
Two men were still firing on them by the bay door, and the rest remained hidden in the pallets a few yards behind them.
Mickey ducked back down, grabbing Roger’s arm. “Are you ready?”
“Ready!” Roger bared his teeth. “Go!”
Roger started shooting wildly, and Mickey quickly stepped out. He was exposed like this, totally vulnerable, but he knew he was fast.
He had to be.
Mickey pulled the pin and threw the grenade toward the cluster of men behind the pallets. He ducked back down with Roger, grimacing at the wave of bullets raining down on them.
“Listen to me!” Mickey pulled Roger close so he could hear him over the noise. “When it explodes, we run! Okay? We’re gonna go over the fence! We run as fast as—”
The building rocked again, and the shooting stopped, the silence filled with frantic screams. Mickey leapt up like a bolt of lightning, charging forward to take down the men at the door with two quick shots each. Roger was right behind him, turning around to fire to cover their escape.
Mickey looked back only once, and he got a glimpse of Crybaby sprawled out on the ground.
She wasn’t moving, and there was no sign of Duncan anywhere. One of Roger’s grenades had somehow ended up inside the truck with the guns, and the entire trailer was now engulfed in flames. Another fire inside the plant was spewing out black smoke, and the sound of sirens was getting closer.
This entire night was a total disaster.
Chapter 11
The sirens were still wailing as Mickey and Roger bolted toward the fence. None of the Luchesi men seemed to be coming after them, but Mickey sure as hell wasn’t going to stick around and give them a chance to catch up.
He unzipped his jumpsuit, stepping out of it quickly and tossing it up over the barbed wire. He skillfully scaled the chain link, sliding over the jumpsuit to avoid the barbs and dropping to the ground on the other side.
“Fuck, hang on, Jackie Chan!” Roger grumbled, climbing up the fence after Mickey. “Shit, I am gonna break my fuckin’ neck!”
“Come on!” Mickey hissed impatiently. “We have to go!”
