Page 40 of The Greek's Retribution

Zar glances over at me, then replies, “I want the both of you to show us what our family from across the water can do.”

There is a long pause before a laugh both cruel and sinister floods our ears.

“As you wish,” Yiorgos cackles as we pull up to the building.

Two men were standing outside, trying to seem like pedestrians but from the bulge from weapons under their shirts, we know they are Santiago’s men.

“Drop ‘em, then drag ‘em,” Zar commands as we exit the SUV.

By the time the men notice us, death is already upon them as the bullets from my silencer hit their marks. Alistair quickly opens the door as Hendrix and Frankie grab their arms, then drag them inside the building.

“Héctor, qué coño era ese ruido (Hector, what the fuck was that noise?)” a guy shouts, coming from around the corner but is silenced when Yiorgos raises his gun, shooting the man in the neck. He grasps his throat as he falls back into a glass table. From the loud sound of the glass breaking echoing around the warehouse, I knew it would catch the attention of the other men.

“Party time,” Alistair chuckles as we fan out.

We crouch down behind the outdated furniture as more of Santiago’s men emerge, shooting at us. The sudden sound of rapid shooting and men crying out in pain has us looking over at Yiorgos and Basil. Basil’s standing unprotected as he lets off round after round from his TEC-9. I side eye Zar, who is smiling with pride.

“Well, you told them to show us what they could do,” I laugh.

He shrugs his shoulders. “It’s still early in the game, either one of us could’ve done that.”

“Yeah, but did you bring a Tech-9?” Alistair smirks, raising his eyebrow.

“Shut up, Alistair,” Zar sneers, peering at his brother. “Let’s move.”

We move from our positions, using large crates for protection as we return fire. This reminded me of when Zar, Alistair, and I were younger playing laser tag, only this time there’s live ammo instead of the red lasers being directed at us.

Rounding the crate in front of me, I duck just in time as a guy swings the butt of his automatic gun at my head. I ram the barrel of my gun into his crotch, pulling the trigger. A piercing scream leaves him as he drops his weapon, then grabs his bloody pants. His legs buckle, causing him to fall to his knees. I listen as he curses and prays to God at the same time. Having no sympathy for him, I put him out of his misery with one shot to his temple.

As more of Santiago’s men come in from the back, probably being pushed our way by Mike and his crew, I glance around to see Zar with both arms extended out in front of him, shooting men as they enter along with Hendrix and Frankie. Alistair has his knife out, shanking a man repeatedly like he was in prison. Yiorgos is putting hands to a guy as if he was his personal punching bag and Basil is kneeling over a guy bashing his face in with the TEC-9.

When Santiago’s men see that they are surrounded with no escape, they lower their weapons, then raise their hands in defeat.

As Venom and Blade kick their guns away from them, Mike and Lethal usher the remaining five men to the middle of the room.

“This is your party,” Zar says to me.

I nod then look over at Mike. “That one,” I state, pointing to the guy third from the last in the row. I remember him being one of Santiago’s guards at the meeting in Bermuda.

He tries to fight as Mike and Lethal snatch him from the line, then move him closer to me before roughly pushing him to his knees. As the other men are preoccupied watching and wondering what’s going to happen to their comrade, Alistair, Basil, Hendrix, and Frankie have walked behind them unnoticed. On my cue, they instantly kill them execution style.

After their bodies hit the floor, I casually walk over to the guard.

“Where’s your boss?” I question.

“I don’t know,” he lies.

With all my might, I punch him hard in the face, hearing the bones in his nose crack. His head jerks to the right as blood instantly begins to spew.

“Where’s your boss,” I ask once again. I don’t have time for this bullshit. Either way he is going to die but I want answers first. “You were in Bermuda, where did he go when you all left there?”

The man shows defiance as he spits blood on the floor, staring directly back at me.

“Hold his arms and head,” I instruct Mike and Lethal.

He makes a move to stand but before he can, Lethal drops down, putting him in a position that has his legs wrapped around the man’s torso and his arms locked behind his back. Mike with his big meaty hands braces the man’s head so tight, the guy can’t even move it from side to side.

“Alistair,” I call, holding my hand out to the side. Moments later, I feel the handle of his bloody knife in my palm.

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