Joe looked to his left to see knots of antifa gathering under the lights of an open park. He looked to his right to see the small square behind the hotel.
The headlights of the Yarak van swept the square as Geronimo turned in to reveal Axel standing next to it with an armful of long rifles and shotguns.
“That’s him,” Geronimo bellowed. “You ready?”
Joe nodded, but he wasn’t sure he was ready. Ready for what? His mouth was too dry to speak.
Geronimo steered with his left hand while he grasped his shotgun from the console between the seats. Joe reached down to assure himself where the safety was located behind the trigger guard of his Remington Wingmaster, even though he’d been familiar with it for a dozen years.
“Don’t hit the van or shoot up my birds,” Nate said from the back.
The Yarak van’s front tires bounced over the curb into thesquare and Joe held on. Geronimo positioned the van to block Axel’s vehicle from the front, then slammed on the brakes.
“Go,” Geronimo said as he opened his door and jumped out.
Joe looked up to see Axel frozen in place in the headlights, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly parted. He’d been caught by surprise.
Joe bailed out of the passenger side, racking his shotgun as his boots hit the pavement.
Axel still stood there. His eyes narrowed.
Joe said, “Lower the weapons and put your hands behind your head.”
In his peripheral vision, Joe saw Geronimo to his left with his triple-barrel shotgun trained on Axel. Geronimo said softly to Joe, “Aim low. He might be wearing body armor.”
Axel said, “You don’t know who you’re messing with.”
“Oh, I know.”
“Here’s your one chance to get back in your vehicle and drive away.”
“Where’s your friend?” Geronimo asked Axel. Joe was glad he did. He’d forgotten that Axel wasn’t alone.
Axel chinned toward his van. “Inside. Dying.” He said it with contempt, and Joe felt a chill wash over him.
“Lower the weapons,” Joe said.
Axel sighed theatrically. “Oh, all right.”
Instead of placing the guns on the pavement, Axel dropped them and they clattered at his feet. In his right hand was a large revolver. He raised it quickly.
There was a massiveBOOMfrom behind Joe that made himduck instinctively. The slug from Nate’s .454 caught Axel in his left shoulder and spun him around 360 degrees. Somehow, Axel managed to stay on his feet.
Simultaneously, Joe and Geronimo pulled their triggers. Both had aimed low and the combined blasts blew Axel’s knees back the wrong way. He screamed and dropped, his revolver falling from his hand.
Joe ran forward and kicked the gun away. Axel’s legs were folded under him in such grotesque angles that Joe had to look away.
Axel starting moaning and his eyes were clenched tight.
Joe looked over his shoulder.
Nate had pulled himself up so he could fire between the frame of the van and the open door.
“Not bad for left-handed,” Nate said with a grimace.
Geronimo ran up along the passenger side of the transit van while reloading. He kept low until he reached the door and then rose up with the muzzle pointing inside the cab. After a beat, Geronimo lowered his shotgun.
“His buddy’s gone,” he said. “Axel let him die.”