Page 45

Chapter 44

Welcome aboard the USS Suckass

Big Al

T he rumble of the yacht’s engine pulsates from the soles of my feet up my legs.

We made it on board, seemingly undetected.

So far, so good.

Taking cover behind two oversized deck chairs, I scan our surroundings from this new vantage. We’re on a platform that juts from the back of the boat on the first deck above water level. A windowless exterior wall separates it from the main cabin. Along the wall is an outdoor stairwell leading to the upper decks.

I holster my rifle and switch to my SIG. Considering we’ll be navigating the boat’s tight corridors, I’d rather not whip a long fucking gun around like I’m in a big dick-waving contest.

“We’re coming in hot, Boss,” Aaron announces over the comms.

“Translation—they’re sprinting across the parking lot,” Mia tacks on.

“Copy.”

I’ll feel much better about our odds when we’re five-strong. Well, four plus Patterson. Not sure whether he’s an asset or a liability. My gut says the latter.

I snap at him to get his attention. “We need to keep the boat from leaving the marina. As soon as my team gets here, you and I will disable the engine.”

“Let’s go to the bridge instead,” he suggests.

Asinine.

I glare at him. “Are you trying to die?”

“If we can get up there undetected, I’ll force the captain and crew to hold the ship here.”

This guy is as useful as a soup sandwich. A box of dildos would have been a more capable partner. At least I could throw them at the enemy.

“Detective, has thinking ever crossed your mind? They won’t listen to you.”

“I have a badge that says they will.”

“Do you hear yourself? A crew bought and paid for by Lenkov won’t listen to a cop.”

He screws his face to the side, then darts his gaze around the port side of the boat. When he glances my way, he shakes his phone at me. “I’ll try to get an ETA on SWAT.”

Patterson’s annoying me so thoroughly that I almost miss the warning signals increasing in my gut.

I flash the okay symbol and crane my neck for a better view along the starboard side. “Mia, do you have the yacht’s schematic up yet?”

“Affirmative.”

“Where’s the engine on this thing? It’s gotta be close. I can feel it.”

“The stern end of the hull. One level below you and approximately ten feet toward the bow.”

“Great. How do I fucking get there? Do I have to go up to the main deck? It’ll be hard to do that without being exposed.”

“There’s a crew stairwell midship that connects all five decks, including the engine room level. However, there should be an access panel near you that leads down there.”

“Is the panel on the deck?”

“Hang on. This floor plan isn’t giving me what you need. Let me find another one.”

Henderson’s voice comms through my earpiece quietly. “Coming up on your six.”

I turn around, catching scant glimpses of them as they approach. A puff of pride swells my chest.

Take a look at that fucking stealth, Patterson. That’s how you fucking do it.

One by one, they slink onto the platform without making a sound. Henderson takes cover facing us, standing with his back to the wall under the stairwell. Aaron and Josh double up with us behind the chairs.

I gesture one finger in a sweeping arc between the detective and me. “We’re gonna take out the engine. As soon as we identify a clear path, you three need to find Katia and the baby so they don’t become hostages when SWAT gets here.”

Mia breaks in. “Boss, there should be a hatch on the wall near the staircase in front of you.”

Henderson gives me a thumbs up, verifying he sees it.

“Copy that, Mia.” I raise my brows at Detective Dumbass. “Did you get an ETA for SWAT?”

He shakes his head and slips his cell into his pocket. “Nothing yet.”

“Mia, do you know where SWAT is?”

“Sorry, Boss. The other op is going gangbusters again. They found more contraband on the cargo ship, along with Lenkov’s minions trying to deter them. Tomer and Klein are tied up with that mess. Nothing to panic about. I just don’t have the extra hands. I’ll ask Lettie and Sue to make some calls to find out.”

Shit .

I catch Henderson’s attention, motioning for him to open the door. “Is the hatch unlocked?”

He disappears under the stairwell briefly, then pops back up, waving me forward. “It’s open.”

Without delay, I grab Patterson by his vest, tugging him toward the hatch. He’s too much of a wild card to be left to his own devices. Aaron’s liable to shoot him in the leg to remove him from the equation.

Hold on now. Maybe I’m onto something.

Nah. I’ll just keep him with me.

I survey the tight space inside the open access panel. Aside from minimal safety lighting, there’s only a metal ladder running down one level. I listen closely, detecting only a much louder hum of the engine.

“Entering the hatch,” I announce in a hushed volume.

“I can see that on your chest cam, Boss. You don’t need to narrate everything. Unless you’re enjoying yourself, then by all means.”

“That one’s getting you added to the shit list,” I quip, allowing only that minuscule break from operator mode. Just a little something to break the tension.

I descend the ladder, careful to keep my contact with the metal rungs silent. Before my feet are exposed to the opening below, I pause to scan for hostiles. After removing a mirror on a telescopic pole from my tactical vest, I lower it into the opening beneath me and twist it in a circle.

Finding nobody lying in wait, I slip the collapsed tool back into my vest, lower myself to the bottom deck, and land softly on the balls of my feet. Patterson follows, attempting to be more discreet than he was earlier.

Attempting.

I’d blame his clunkiness on age, but he’s only got a few years on me.

“Bottom deck appears clear,” I inform my team.

Mia responds, “Although I could guide you, it’s probably easier to follow the sound of the engine. Shouldn’t be far.”

“Copy.”

Patterson and I advance quickly through a narrow corridor until it opens to a wider space. Our passageway intersects with another. After swiveling my head both ways, we cross swiftly.

Mia addresses the others, “Team, be advised: Boss just found a crew passage running perpendicular to his route. From where the ladder dumps, it’s about eight feet forward. Might be a viable route to help you move undetected throughout more of the ship. Stand by.”

“Roger that,” Aaron returns. “We don’t have any good options up here. Topside is crawling with tangos.”

The door to the engine room is on my right. Moving in close, I peek through a cutout window. I signal Patterson with one raised finger, indicating one person inside. He tightens his grip on his sidearm and tips his chin toward the door.

Swiftly and silently, I enter the engine room, creeping behind a man at the control panel. He doesn’t notice our approach, possibly thanks to the noise of the engine. I slip my arm around his neck and squeeze. Gasping, he grips my forearm, attempting to free himself.

“Shh. I’m not here to hurt you.” To prevent him from hitting an alarm or continuing to fight me, I yank him by the neck away from the console and press my SIG to his temple. “Do everything I say, and you won’t be harmed. Understand?”

Frozen in panic, he offers a paltry nod of agreement. More than likely, he speaks English.

“Hands up where I can see them.”

He complies immediately. Definitely speaks English.

Over the comms, Mia instructs my team to lower to this deck via the hatch and use the intersecting hallway to search for Katia and the baby. I tune it out to focus on disabling the engine.

Maintaining a firm grip on the engineer’s neck, I calmly explain, “We’re law enforcement. This boat cannot leave the marina. How do we shut it off from here?”

With a shaky hand, he points toward a large red lever. “Emergency stop.”

“Very good. What’ll happen when we flip that lever? Will someone come down here? Call you on the radio? Sound an alarm?”

Rather than answering, he offers a feeble protest. “If you’re the cops, why are you attacking me?”

I squeeze his neck tighter. “Because I don’t trust a fucking soul on this ship other than my men. Answer the question. What’s the procedure for emergency shutdown?”

“Alarm.” He nods, his voice shaky. “It’ll sound an alarm on the bridge. They’ll call me for a status.”

“You’re doing great. I’m gonna sit you down and release your neck.” I glance at Patterson. “Bring that chair over here.”

He follows my instructions, then helps me restrain the engineer with zip ties at his wrists and another tie to hold him to the chair. I don’t want to use Patterson’s handcuffs.

He’s gonna need them when we find Lenkov.

In this new position, I look into this frightened young man’s eyes. “When they call you from the bridge, is there anything you could tell them to buy us some time? Nothing that’ll have them sending people down here. Be honest. I’ll know if you’re lying.”

His mouth opens and closes wordlessly while he mulls it over. Eventually, he stammers, “No. I don’t-I can’t think of-of anything that won’t be suspicious. If it were anything routine, I’d have called them with an explanation by now.”

“New plan. Forget the emergency shutoff. What else can we do to disable the engine that will cause the captain to hold the yacht in place? Cut a fuel line somewhere? Sugar in the gas tank? What have you got for me, kid?”

He shakes his head, his eyes nervously pinging between the butt of my rifle over my shoulder and my face. “Fuel line has backups. Cooling system might be something. Uh...”

Henderson’s panic-tinted voice causes my spine to straighten. “Boss, you’ve got tangos incoming.”

Abandoning the interrogation, I dart the two steps toward the door. It looks clear from my limited vantage point.

“What’s wrong?” Patterson asks, reaching toward the emergency shutoff lever.

“We have incoming. Stay there,” I order him, then address Henderson through the comms. “I don’t have visual, Henny. What did you see?”

“I’m at the corridor intersection a few feet from you. I heard someone coming down the stairs and voices getting louder. It’s silent now, though.”

“If they try to get in the engine room, can you take them out?”

“Depends on how many there are. I’m solo at the lookout point. Aaron and Josh are midship, looking for Katia.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Mia?” I ask, hoping she has something for me.

“Aside from your body cams, I don’t have eyes down there, Boss.”

“Henderson, keep your ears open. If they breach the engine room, we’ll attempt to subdue them while you swoop in from behind. Hold fire unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

The last thing I need is a fucking blood bath.

“Wilco.”

After listening to my side of the exchange, the engineer suggests, “It’s probably crew members. Since we’re about to depart, they might be doing a routine check. Please don’t shoot them.”

Considering his words, tone of voice, and nonverbal cues, I find no reason to doubt him. But my gut is vibrating, growing more insistent as the seconds tick by.

“Guard the door,” I order Patterson.

I hustle over to the engineer, slicing only the outer tie to free him from the chair while keeping his hands bound behind his back. “Get up. To the corner. Move.”

There isn’t enough space to defend ourselves with this kid stuck in the middle of the room.

We’re two steps from the chair when three huge men barge in, slamming Patterson to his knees with the force of the swinging door.

The first two goons who enter don’t see me right away, given they’re focusing on disarming the detective. The third one sees me and attempts to shoulder past the others. Thanks to the tight space, he doesn’t get through immediately.

Using the delay to my advantage, I shove the engineer toward the corner to free up my hands. Operating instinctually, I grab the empty chair and swing it full force into the wall of henchmen. I catch two of them in the head with the heavy metal casters at the chair base, sending them to the ground.

The other tango turns from Patterson to me, advancing with a gun extended. Parrying to the side, I grab his forearm and twist it. With all my strength, I bring my elbow down onto his wrist. The satisfying snap of his bones reverberates through me. His weapon clatters to the floor, and I kick it across the engine room. I take him the rest of the way down with a boot to the gut. He collapses onto one of the other tangos.

Unfortunately, the third tango is on his feet again, moving toward Patterson. I draw my SIG right as the goon presses his gun to Patterson’s head.

Now we’re in a fucking face-off.

Son of a bitch.

I’m getting too damn old for this shit.

I should have taken out Patterson myself before we even made it to the dock. Hindsight.

“Boss, I’m moving in,” Henderson announces.

Well, it took him fucking long enough.

He and I are due for a come-to-Jesus meeting.

Keeping my voice steady, I attempt to buy some time with the tango. “Easy, comrade. Nobody needs to die today.”

As if the universe wants to refute my assertion, the familiar pops of gunfire come through my earpiece, followed by Aaron cursing up a storm. He and Josh must have found trouble instead of finding Katia.

At least Aaron’s swearing in anger instead of sounding pained. It gives me minimal comfort.

Still in a standoff with a dickbag who’s holding a dumbass hostage, I get an earful of chaos via my comms. The volume pierces so loudly it makes it difficult to focus on any one thing in particular. It’s like being in the Rangers again. The worst parts.

Time seems to accelerate as everything unfolds at once.

I detect sounds of a physical struggle. Metal clanking. Grunts and raspy groans. More gunfire.

“I’m hit in the leg,” Josh grits out.

Dammit.

Mia’s voice comes through next. “Henderson, take the shot.”

He does.

Two quick pops, and the tango holding Patterson collapses to the ground.

I release a haggard exhale, my shoulders sagging. Patterson doubles over in relief.

Henderson enters the engine room, his gun extended. He lowers it when he sees one unconscious tango and the other writhing in pain.

My frustration seeps out. “Where the fuck were you?”

Apparently, my patience pounded sand an hour ago.

He flings his thumb over his shoulder. “I had two tangos to neutralize first; they came in from the other side. I think it’s safe to say they know we’re here.”

“Sorry.” I wave him off. “Go find Josh and Aaron while we tie these two up. Then I’ll come to find you.”

He nods and departs swiftly. Mia directs his steps.

Patterson helps me restrain the two tangos who survived the fight. The one with the broken wrist isn’t too happy about how he’s being manhandled. Tough shit. He can file a complaint with my boss. Heh, heh.

I might need some fresh air; I enjoyed that thought a bit too much.

Before I depart to help my team, I face Patterson. “How about you stay here and guard the engineer and these two fuck wads? If the boat starts to move, hit the emergency stop.”

Finally acknowledging he’s in over his bald head, he lowers his chin in agreement. “Go save Katia and the baby.”

After I save my family.

I pat him on the shoulder and toss a parting dig. “If a hostile comes in, shoot them. Use either gun.”

This fucker is one step away from needing a coffin because he’s deadweight.

I double-time it from the engine room. “Mia, where am I going?”

“Take the hall on your left,” she answers.

Rounding the corner as instructed, I run smack dab into a solid chest attached to a beast of a man.

Before I can react, he grabs me by the neck and squeezes.

Very tightly.

He utters something in Russian; all I hear is the word pakhan .

Before this mammoth can choke me out, I jab him in the eyes, one then the other. His grip on my throat loosens enough for me to twist my frame, bring my elbow between us, and slam it down to break his hold.

I land in a sturdy crouch in front of him, which gives me the perfect inspiration. Without giving him time to react, I rear back and punch him in the nuts with full force. He falls like a sack of lard, slamming into the bulkhead as he thumps onto the floor.

Damn . I hit him so hard that it made me nauseous. If he ever had a chance of fathering children, he just swallowed them from the inside out. Balls and all.

Racing footsteps move away from me. I catch sight of the back of a well-dressed man fleeing, and my gut seizes.

It’s Nikolai.

The pakhan the giant was addressing.

Running from me like a coward.

On the floor, the ogre I made into a eunuch rolls into a ball and wretches out the contents of his stomach—most likely his future children. I grab his wrists and restrain them with three sets of zip ties. He’s a big boy. And I won’t be babysitting him.

“Patterson, come get this fucker,” I yell as I finish up the third tie.

As soon as he’s secured, I remove his sidearm and tuck it into the back of my waistband. I race down the corridor toward Lenkov, my legs pumping harder than they have in thirty years. Once I’m close enough to see the gray streaks in his jet-black hair, a burst of adrenaline propels me faster. He’s ten years my senior and was likely never as fit as me, so I gain on him rapidly.

Lenkov reduces his speed to turn toward a staircase, giving me an opportunity to catch him.

And I seize it.

Closing the remaining distance, I leap forward to tackle him before he makes it up the first step. With my body careening against him, he plummets to the ground, smacking brutally into the metal railing on the way down.

He lands splayed on his stomach.

His pained wails are music to my fucking ears.

As for me, his putrid body cushioned my fall nicely. Aside from being short of breath, I’m fine.

Since we toppled into this position, I’ll be able to easily restrain him like I did with the Andre-the-Giant wannabe.

For a split second, I contemplate rolling Lenkov over and pummeling his face.

It would be so fucking satisfying.

He deserves it. Who could blame me?

My nostrils flare and collapse with my riotous breaths. As he moans in agony, I grab his wrists and force them behind his back. I lend him no measure of tenderness.

He’s earned far worse treatment than this. But only one of us is a monster. It’s not me.

Too bad I don’t have Patterson’s handcuffs. The tight clink of metal locking into place would be as soul-soothing as his bellows. Sadly, the ties will have to do for now.

Once he’s restrained, I yank him to his feet. “Up you go, asshole.”

Despite my harsh grip on him, he stumbles and sways a few steps. Although he must want to cuss me out, he remains silent.

“Nothing to say to me?” I sneer, my hatred of this man bringing me to the boiling point. “Huh, asshole? Nothing? You had my daughter abducted and raped. You sent a hitman after me, shooting the woman I love in the crossfire. And yet, you have nothing to say to me, man to man?”

No response.

None.

If it weren’t for the visible lingering pain from the takedown, I doubt he’d have any reaction whatsoever. As it is, all he’s giving me are glimpses of his discomfort.

Letting myself indulge in the sweet victory of his capture, I peer deep into his eyes.

It’s cold and dark. No humanity. Only desolation and darkness.

His soul is an abyss.

“You’re going to prison, you sick fuck. And you’ll never hurt another person for as long as you live.”

I give him a shove toward the engine room. “Let’s go.”

Might as well use it as our pseudo-holding room while we round up the rest of the deviants.

Mia opens her mic, letting me hear the raucous applause in the lair. My shoulders roll back, and my chest puffs.

Forgot Maddie was watching. Good thing I didn’t turn into a fucking rage monster.

Lenkov lurches down the corridor at my prodding, unflinching from my harsh grip on his arm. When we reach the spot where I left the beastly man, he’s no longer there. His vomit, however, is right where I last saw it.

If Patterson got taken out by a restrained man, I’m letting nature run its course.

“Are you back here, Patterson?”

He pokes his face out of the engine room, locking wide eyes on us. Ever the astute detective, he surmises, “Holy shit. You got him.”

Captain Fucking Obvious reporting for duty.

Ha . Lettie would have liked that one. I’ll tell her later.

As Patterson approaches, I savor my last moment with Lenkov at my mercy.

I give him one last shove forward. “Detective, since the chief isn’t here, you’ll have to do the honors. Cuff this piece of shit and arrest him.”

Wearing an unearned cocky smirk, Patterson faces Lenkov. “Turn around, Nikolai.”

I lean against the wall and watch the pakhan of the Russian mafia get arrested. And damn, it feels fucking good.

Exhaustion sets in as the adrenaline flees my system. My eyes flutter shut for the briefest of moments.

It’s finally over.

Mia cuts through my revelry with more news. “Boss, the rest of the team is safe. All tangos are disabled. But there’s no sign of Katia. They found the baby, though.”

An unexpected sound causes my eyes to spring open.

It isn’t the clink of locking metal handcuffs.

Nor is it the detective reciting the Miranda warning.

Nope.

It’s the snap of plastic being cut.

Patterson didn’t cuff his wrists. He freed them. And now the traitor is pointing his gun at me.

“Hands up, Lancaster,” the weasel orders, his upper lip curled in disdain.

Slowly, I comply. With each inch my arms raise, my glare intensifies tenfold. So does the hatred I have for both these men.

All those warnings from my gut weren’t because he was risking the mission with his ineptitude.

This slimy motherfucker betrayed us.

Lenkov rubs his wrists, straightening his spine to appear taller. With an arrogant grace to his movements, he removes a handkerchief from his pocket, flicks his wrist to unfold it, and dabs at the blood lining his face.

The steadiness flees from Mia’s tone as she airs my failure over the comms. “Team, double-time it to the engine room corridor. Patterson has a gun on Boss, and he’s just freed Lenkov.”

Shit .

If Mia’s watching, Maddie can see me too.

I don’t want that for her. She’s known enough fear for ten lifetimes.

Patterson wags the muzzle of his gun at me, attempting to be threatening.

Attempting.

“Weapons. Slide them over. Nice and slow.”

I have no intention of rushing this. If I drag this out long enough, my team will arrive.

With the speed of an elderly snail, I retrieve my SIG from the holster. Keeping my left arm where he can see it, I pointedly lower the gun to the deck with my right hand.

“Now the rifle,” Patterson prods.

Continuing at a barely discernible pace, I repeat the process with my rifle. Once both firearms are on the floor, I raise to my full height.

Aaron relays their location, his breath choppy. “Hold on, Boss. Forty-five seconds.”

Oblivious to the ticking clock, Patterson orders me to slide my guns across the deck toward him.

One at a time, I nudge them in his direction.

Patterson glances from my guns to Lenkov twice. I have to stifle my laugh. He wants Nikolai to pick up the weapons, but he’s too chickenshit to ask him.

Lenkov makes no move to assist.

“Take two big steps back,” Patterson barks at me.

Ah . He’s come up with a new plan.

Get me farther away so he can bend down without receiving a boot to the skull.

Nice try. I’m still gonna smash his brains out the first chance I get.

After Patterson secures my weapons, he eyes me down over the barrel of his gun.

It dawns on me how little I’ve studied him. In all our past interactions, my focus has been on other individuals or things. Throughout today’s clusterfuck, I’ve had my head on a swivel to seek out trouble, never realizing it was walking in lockstep with me.

Lenkov clears his throat and shifts his focus to Patterson. He extends an open palm toward the traitor. “Give me his weapon.”

The first four words the pakhan utters in my presence are a pathetic disappointment.

Rather than forking over my gun, Patterson holds it slightly out of his reach. “After this, we’re good. Right?”

Lenkov snarls at him, ice coating his features. In a thick Russian accent, he seethes, “You didn’t bring him alone. You let him do this to me.” He gestures a stiff hand toward his bloody face. “And some of my men are dead.”

Finding an ounce of gumption, Detective Doublecross sputters, “The deal was that I’d bring him to you. And I did that. Here he is. Alive and unarmed.”

Avoiding a response, Nikolai restates his earlier order. “Give me his weapon.”

Through my earpiece, I hear the clear signs of a struggle. Fucking hell. More resistance.

I’m gonna go out on a limb and assume Patterson freed some of the men I left with him in the engine room, including the ogre. And they’ve found my guys.

Perhaps I can buy some time if I get them talking. “What’s your plan here?” I tip my head to the side, arching my brows at them. “If you shoot me, you won’t get away. We’ve incapacitated all your men. My people are surrounding the boat as we speak. The real cops are on their way or probably ready to board. There’s no way you win this. It’s over.”

Small bluffs. They’ll never know.

“Gun,” Lenkov commands in a thunderous voice.

Patterson folds instantly, handing over my SIG.

I don’t like that. Not one fucking bit.

Lenkov tests the feel of the gun in his hand, turning it from side to side. “I wait such a long time to do this.” He turns to me, one half of his battered face raised in a sneer. “Look at you.” He clicks his tongue three times. “All your life, you try to save everyone. Try to be hero. But you fail every time. Like you fail today.”

“You know nothing about me.”

“Oh, I do know you, Alan Lancaster.” He paces in the narrow hallway, only getting two steps before turning on his heel to repeat the motion. “Spent entire life trying to fix what you did. Replace what you lost.” He shakes his head, jutting his lip into a mocking pout. “No matter how many people you have around you. No matter how many you try to save from sad lives. You still want the one you never can have again. Because nothing can bring back dead brother.”

My chest seizes, and my vision grows hazy. There’s a tremble in my legs.

Logically, I know the boat isn’t moving, but it sways like we’re on the open ocean in the middle of a hurricane.

But the only storm is the one inside me.

“Oh, you are surprised I know about sweet, innocent Daniel?” Lenkov narrows his inky eyes at me. “Poor crazy Daniel. Killed because big brother trusted wrong person. Like today, yes?”

I want to scream no . Deny him and prove him wrong.

But he’s right.

Every damn word.

I’ve spent my entire life trying to care for damaged and broken people, gathering them up like orphans in need of a good home. All to make up for what I did to Daniel. To right the wrongs of my selfish past.

And to convince myself I’m not a monster.

Sadly, no matter how many children I have at Redleg, I’ll never have my brother back. Because I failed him when he needed me the most. For my own selfish pursuits and because I trusted the wrong person.

Visions of Daniel relentlessly assault me.

The way he looked crying at the door before I turned my back on him.

The sound of my name as he wailed for me, desperate for my comfort.

Painful memories scrape against the barrier of my subconscious. They pound and thrash at the surface, demanding I languish in their sadness.

Exactly the way Daniel did to the glass panel beside our front door.

As I walked away from him.

Patterson’s volume spikes, jerking me back to the present. “Do it already. His men will be here any second. If I’m getting you out of here, we need to leave now.”

Lenkov twists away from me, going chest-to-chest with his apparent getaway driver. “Don’t you dare order me, you pathetic fool.”

My eyes sweep from side to side, helping me get my bearings.

I’m on the fucking boat. And they’ve both lowered their weapons to have a pissing contest.

Reaching behind me, I wrap my fingers around the grip of the revolver. The one I pulled off the mountainous man.

In a more respectful tone, Patterson asks Nikolai, “Are you going to kill him, or should I?”

The bratva scum curses under his breath.

I’m distracted slightly by Henderson’s voice in my earpiece. “On the way, Boss. Had to take out the trash.”

They’re too late.

Still hidden behind my back, my index finger eases onto the trigger. Unfortunately, both of these fuckers are armed and seconds from firing at me. Who do I shoot first?

I clear my thoughts, putting all my faith in my gut instincts.

And I make my choice.

If I only get the chance to shoot one, it’ll be the one most deserving.

Staring me down over the barrel of my own damn gun, the snake hisses his parting words. “Say hello to sweet Daniel for me.”

In an equally scathing tone, I counter, “Say hello to Viktor for me.”

Three gunshots ring out.

Pop.

Pop.

Pop.