There was a pause in the gunfire.
I figured I knew why.
The windows had been opaque from all the cracks, so the gunmen hadn’t been able to see inside until the glass was blown out.
A voice yelled something thatsoundedlike Italian, but wasn’t.
“Nun stanno dinto!”
I had no idea what the fuck the literal translation was, but I guessed it wasThey’re not in there!
In Italian, that would’ve beenNon ci sono!
He was speaking in some other language –
Probably whatever they used in Naples.
I heard theclack-chunk!of a sub-machinegun magazine slamming into place as the other guy yelled,“Sarranno a ll’ato lato d’a machina!”
Machinameant ‘car.’
I figured he was saying,They must be on the other side of the car –
Even though in Italian that would’ve beenDevono essere dall’altro lato della macchina!
I didn’t have time for the finer points of grammar, though.
I had a brief second –
And I used it to my advantage.
Opening the car door and shooting through the blown-out window on the other side would have taken too much time –
So I stood up at the rear of the car, my Glock aimed at where I’d heard the nearest voice.
In a split second, I took everything in.
One guy – an ugly motherfucker with an AK-47 – was on the other side of the car, directly opposite me.
The second shooter was closer to the Mercedes’s hood. I registered him in my peripheral vision.
The first guy’s eyes widened as he saw me.
His AK-47 was pointed inside the car’s shattered window.
He tried to swing it over to me –
Too slow.
I double-tapped him –
BLAM BLAM!
– and ducked back down as his chest exploded red.
A half-second later, the second shooter opened fire.
He was smarter than his buddy, though.
