Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
“Luca,” Tony says, looking out the back. “They’ve got on ski masks.”
“Russians,” I say, jumping across the seat. Niccolo tosses me a rifle as I kick open the passenger side door and hop out, bringing the gun up to my shoulder as a firestorm breaks across the quiet neighborhood.
My gun thunders in my ears. The Russians fire back but they’re surprised we’re putting up a resistance. I bet Denny told them we’d be vulnerable out here, lost and not paying attention, not thinking we’d get slammed from behind. He was right, but I got lucky—pulling over at that exact moment probably saved our lives. Instead of being thrown around, we were pushed a few feet forward, but left mostly unscathed.
I hit one Russian as he tries to rush our Rover from dick to forehead, splattering his blood all over the fence, and he drops. Tony fires on another, killing him, and I have to duck as a third tries to blast my head from my shoulders. We’re pinned down and I have no clue if the Russians are going to send another vehicle filled with killers or not, which means if we want to survive this, we’ve got to move.
It’s a risk, but we don’t have any other options. I roll out from my position to get a better angle on the shooters and open up from a prone position on the ground, my rifle kicking like a mule. I kill one, shoot the driver in the chest, and scramble to my feet, running at the truck like a psychopath.
“Luca!” Tony leaps out behind me and fires over my shoulder, so close I swear the bullet sheers off some hair and kills a shooter right as he raises his gun to finish me off. The bastard grunts and I put two more in his chest, finishing him off. I reach the truck and sweep the inside, but find only dead bodies, glass, blood, and silence.
The day goes quiet except for a nearby barking dog.
I yank the driver of the truck out. He’s very dead, his blood and gore all over the seat. I put it in reverse and let it roll backwards until it hits another parked car and stops.
“Come on,” I say, running back to the Rover. We jump inside and pull out, driving fast as sirens start blaring in the distance.
“What the fuck was that?” Giacomo asks, legs jostling, still brimming with adrenaline.
“Russians,” I say, teeth clenched as the Rover rounds the corner, dragging a piece of its bumper. I have to stop, get out, rip it off, toss it away, and hop back in. As I get driving again, it hits me: “Denny set us up.”
Niccolo and Tony are both quiet. My ears ring as I drive faster, getting the fuck away from the scene of the shooting. Watts is a bad neighborhood and people don’t like cops, but it’s not every day they see something so fucking crazy, and they’ll tell stories. People are people, they can’t help themselves, and nobody wants a bunch of gangsters shooting each other in their neighborhood.
Which means my stay in LA better be short and sweet.
I change up the GPS and take the direct route toward the Hills. I should never have trusted Denny to program our route like that, but I was too busy thinking about saving Kacia to imagine the slimy rat would ever bother trying to betray us. But it makes sense: sell me out, get cash from the Russians, keep my cash, and reclaim his guns and hardware, and get some good will from the big players in town. It’s a win-win situation for Denny.
Except I survived, and Denny’s not going to stay alive for long.
I find a decent neighborhood about ten minutes from our destination and check over the Rover. It looks like we got in a gun fight with a bunch of angry Russians wielding high-powered rifles, which is exactly what happened. I’d get another car, but I’m not a local and it won’t be easy. Besides, we can’t carry around all this gear without a vehicle.
“What’s the plan?” Tony asks as we stand there, staring at the wreck of the Rover.
“This operation’s fucked already. The Russians know we’re coming.”
“Their hit squad won’t check in, so they’ll know.”
I stare at Tony hard as Niccolo joins us. “This is your chance, both of you. Things are only going to get harder from here. The Russians know we’re coming and the cops are going to be out looking for a beat-up Rover covered in bullet holes. If we were smart, we’d get the fuck out of town before we get picked up. But I’m not smart.”
“I’ve been called dumb more than once,” Niccolo says, grinning.
“I’m serious. You two can turn and go, you don’t have to stay.”