“It’s go time,” Zeus announces, then looks at Draco. “You, Rooster, and Tank cover the front. Wait here until the fireworks start and dead anyone who tries to make a run for it. The rest of you get ready.”
The rumbling grows louder, and we huddle at the back entrance, weapons at the ready. I slow my breathing, both hands clasping my Glock in a firm grip. The engines cut and heavy footsteps can be heard crunching the gravel as our hapless prey file into the dimly lit warehouse.
“On the count of three,” Zeus whispers. “One, two, three.”
I storm through the door first, my gun drawn and finger on the trigger. The others quickly follow suit, fanning out around the spacious interior.
Our rivals freeze. Bear, the sergeant at arms, draws his firearm. Too slow. I release a single shot, putting a bullet hole in his hand.
I lower my weapon, aiming between his thighs. “Move again, and your balls are next.”
He winces in pain, holding his bloody appendage against his chest.
We outnumber their eight. They don’t stand a chance.
“Where’s Spider?” Zeus’s question echoes through the building.
He and his VP are conspicuously missing.
“He ain’t come tonight,” Bear grinds out. “You’ll never get to him.”
“Please don’t kill me,” a prospect blubbers, tears raining down on his chubby cheeks. “I’m only doing what—”
I empty two shells into his chest. “Shut the fuck up.”
Crying is for babies, children, and women.
Shock widens his eyes, and he crumples to the concrete floor, still as the grave.
“You son of a bitch,” Bear snarls, baring his teeth. “He was just an eighteen-year-old kid.”
“Now he’s a dead eighteen-year-old kid.” I smirk, turning my gun back on him. “Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.”
The guy to Bear’s left brandishes his piece with a roar and starts blasting. Everyone scatters, running for safety. I take shelter behind a steel column.
“It’s a good day to die, motherfuckers!” I bellow, spraying bullets across the room.
Zeus returns gunfire, diving for a large wooden crate. Cricket flips a table. He and another brother drop behind it, using it as cover. I’ve lost sight of Snake and Jigsaw, but spot a few other brothers ensconced in various positions.
From the corner of my eye, I glimpse Caesar centering his gun at Zeus’s head.
“Zeus!” I swing my arm around and fire at the gang leader, striking him in the eye and neck.
He still manages to discharge one shot but misses his target by mere centimeters. I knew we couldn’t trust those fuckers. Caesar falls to his knees and then topples over. His second comes at me with a hail of gunfire, grazing my left shoulder. I duck and roll into a low crouch, dispensing several slugs into his gut.
“Bye-bye, bitch.”
I sprint back to the steel column, pumping lead into Maniacs and Disciples along the way. We’ll be lucky to see tomorrow. A bullet whizzes past my head.
Fuck, that was close.
I quickly reload and rejoin the fray.
“Hold your fucking fire!” someone shouts above the din. “We surrender!”
“Gods, ceasefire, but stay sharp!” Zeus’s booming edict ends the shootout.
The silence hits hard, like someone yanked the sound from the air.
