Page 56 of KAI Tortured

“She has a fifteen to twenty-minute head start,” I say once the three of us are in the car.

“Should we drive faster?” Logan asks.

“We stick to the plan,” I say.

“Let’s hope we’re on time,” Kai mutters, staring out of the window.

About forty-five minutes later, I spot the house. The plan is to park out of their line of sight and stealthily approach, catching them off-guard. The Cartes will enter from the north, the Delgados from the southwest, and as for us, we’re entering from the east, the far end of the backyard, together with the Vitalis.

Fucking Maisy. I can’t believe I have to keep saying fucking Maisy. Why does she always have to go against our orders?

We leave the car and as planned, make our way through the backyards. Armed with my trusted Colt and a flashlight, I’m plowing through each property with everyone else following me when I notice a square mottled-stone memorial hiding in the grass.

“Careful not to trip.” I aim my flashlight at the stonework and nod to everyone behind me.

We make it through and now, up close to the house, we hide behind the bushes. I lead, with Kai and Logan next to me and a team of five men following us.

“Spread out,” I whisper, and point with my gun to the area I want them to cover.

As an unwritten rule, we are to use our guns as a last resort. We don’t want to warn the Slavs too early that we’re here.

From where I’m standing, I can see three men in front of us, standing watch. I tuck my Colt back into its holster as I wait for the right moment to attack. When the man closest to me turns his back, I jump out from behind the bushes and hook my arm around his neck, intending to suffocate him quietly. But he’s stronger than I anticipated, and manages to slide out of my grip and hit me in the stomach. Ha, he doesn’t know that’s my game, so I give him three lefts and a right to the face. It’s been a while since I sparred with anyone. He stumbles back with blood gushing from his nose.

Before the other two guards catch on to what’s happening, Kai swings into action and punches the backs of their heads, one then the other. But he drops and curls up like a shrimp, and I realize that a fourth person behind him is raining punches on him. Logan whips his blades quickly and a thud is heard soon after.

The two remaining men reach for their dropped guns, but before either can pull the trigger, one of our men manages to kick them away from their hands. Finally, Logan hurls more blades at them, fatally wounding both.

“About fucking time,” I hiss, and point to the house. “Proceed.”

Out of the blue, we hear machine-gun fire coming from the southwest, where the Delgados entered. Of course. All of them have short fuses and quick fingers.

I guess it’s started. “Shit! Eyes up, everyone! Maisy’s our top priority!” I pull out my Colt again.

Logan snorts. “I thought she pissed you off.”

“She does. And right now, you’re pissing me off too, asshole!”

Kai and Logan chuckle behind me, but stop when we hear shots fired from the north, where the Cartes are.

“Come on, let’s get inside!”

There’s a man lying on the ground outside the back entrance; we step over him and enter the building.

“We’re first in, be careful!” I warn.

The three of us enter silently amid the sound of more gunshots being fired behind the house. There’s some kind of commotion inside, too, and we run toward the noise.

“For fuck’s sake, KILL HER!” I hear Rosey yelling, and then I see them on the ground. She and Maisy are brawling over possession of a gun. Beside them lies a dead man, and another with a scar on his face stands with a gun aimed at them.

The moment he lays eyes on us, he panics and aims at us, although it’s clear he’s outnumbered. The three of us have our guns trained on him.

Rosey and Maisy are still wrestling on the floor. They grapple ferociously, each maneuver clumsier than the last, reminding me of sisters squabbling over something trivial. Maisy’s face is red and her eyes are watering from the strain. Just when Rosey seems on the brink of defeat, she reverses their positions.

With a huge effort, Maisy manages to wrench the gun from Rosey’s hand and throw it aside. It slides along the floor and stops directly in front of the scar face. He swiftly drops to one knee, snatching up the gun. Now he’s holding two.

Maisy and Rosey disentangle, their chests heaving.

“Thank fuck!” Rosey points at us. “Rob, kill them, let’s get this over and done with!”

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