Page 72 of Azrael

“Azrael!The bastards are using armor-piercing rounds!”one of the Prospects shouted from the rooftop.“Check the club truck.Through and through.”

I glanced at the trucks and saw he was right.The bullets tore through the vehicle like a knife sliding through butter.

Balal’s men had positioned themselves behind their vehicles, using the engines as cover.Smart, but not smart enough.I spotted gas cans in the bed of a pickup parked near the clubhouse.

“Cover me,” I called out, then sprinted toward the vehicle.Bullets whizzed past my head, close enough that I could feel their heat.

From my position, I had a clear shot at the gas cans.I ran to the truck, grabbed two of the cans, and tossed them toward the gate.Then I aimed, exhaled slowly, and squeezed the trigger on my gun.The explosion rocked the compound, sending two of Balal’s vehicles airborne in a ball of flame, and our gate flew off, landing more than ten yards away.Screams filled the air as burning men staggered from the wreckage.

I used the distraction to move closer, ducking behind a battered Chevy as more gunfire erupted.My brothers were returning fire now, the rapid staccato of automatic weapons drowning out the screams of the wounded.

Chaos appeared at my side, his face smeared with blood that wasn’t his own.“One of the Prospects isn’t going to make it,” he said, his voice flat.“Took one through the neck.”

Anger surged through me.Just a kid, probably no older than twenty.“Which one?”

“Damien.”

I nodded, committing the debt to memory.Balal would pay for every drop of blood spilled today.Jesus.Damien was just a kid.Not even eighteen yet.“Where’s Balal?”I asked, scanning the battlefield.

“Haven’t seen him.Probably letting his men do the dying for him.”

A grenade sailed over our cover, landing a few feet away.I grabbed Chaos by his cut and hurled us both behind a club vehicle as the world exploded.My ears rang, and dust filled my lungs.I spat blood onto the ground, not sure if it was from my mouth or my lungs.

“You good?”I asked, checking Chaos for injuries.

He nodded, though his eyes seemed unfocused.“Just ringing,” he shouted, probably unable to hear his own voice.

I patted his shoulder and peered around our cover.Three of Balal’s men were advancing, taking advantage of the grenade’s aftermath.I lined up my sights and dropped them one by one, clean shots through the head.No need to waste ammunition.

The rain that had threatened all night finally broke, falling in sheets that turned the asphalt and gravel slick with blood and water.I used the downpour as cover to move closer to the main gate, or where it used to be.Most of Balal’s forces had concentrated there.

From my new position, I could see across the compound to where several of my brothers had taken refuge.They were pinned down, taking heavy fire from a group of Balal’s men who had somehow flanked them.

“Chaos,” I called out.“Southeast corner of the compound.Our boys need help.”

“On it,” came the immediate response.

I watched as Chaos and three others broke cover, moving in a coordinated pattern toward our trapped brothers.They were good, but Balal’s men were professionals.Two of my brothers went down before they reached the building.

“Fuck,” I growled, adjusting my position to provide covering fire.My finger tightened on the trigger, sending a spray of bullets toward Balal’s men.One dropped, then another, giving Chaos the opening he needed to reach them.

A bullet ripped through my arm, the hot pain momentarily stealing my breath.I twisted around to find one of Balal’s men standing just a few feet away, his gun trained on my head.I rolled as he fired again, the bullet embedding itself in the ground where I’d been.I came up with my knife in hand, driving it deep into his thigh.He screamed, his gun wavering just enough for me to grab his wrist and force it upward.His final shot went into the sky as I slit his throat in one smooth motion.

Blood sprayed across my face, warm and metallic.I wiped it from my eyes with my sleeve and retrieved my rifle.The wound in my arm throbbed, but the bullet had passed clean through muscle.I’d live.

An explosion rocked the compound, sending debris flying.For a moment, my heart stopped, thinking of Chaos and the others.Then I saw them making their way toward the clubhouse, dragging wounded brothers with them.

Movement caught my eye.A tall figure in an expensive suit stood observing the carnage, flanked by bodyguards.Balal.The old man hadn’t even bothered to arm himself, so confident was he in his men’s ability to handle us.

Our gaze met across the battlefield, and even at that distance, I could see the cold calculation in his gaze.He wasn’t here just for Mazida.He wanted to send a message, to crush anyone who dared stand between him and what he considered his property.

I started moving toward him, no longer caring about cover or caution.Rage propelled me forward, each step fueled by the memory of Mazida’s bruised face.By the Prospect bleeding out.By every brother who’d fallen today.

Balal’s bodyguards noticed my approach and raised their weapons.I didn’t slow down.Bullets tore through the air around me, one grazing my cheek, another ripping through my side.I barely felt them.All I saw was Balal, his composed expression finally showing a flicker of concern as I closed the distance.

One of his bodyguards moved to block my path.I shot him point-blank in the chest, not even breaking stride as he crumpled.The second guard was smarter, aiming for my legs, but I was moving too fast, too erratically.His shots went wide, and then I was on him, driving my knife up under his chin.The ten-inch blade scraped bone before finding the softness of his brain.It looked like he’d used his intelligent muscle for the main fight and kept the weaker ones beside him.Big mistake.

By the time I looked up, Balal was retreating toward one of the few intact vehicles, a sleek black Mercedes.I raised my gun, but a burst of automatic fire from my right forced me to dive for cover.When I got back to my feet, the Mercedes was already speeding away, leaving half his men to continue the fight or die trying.

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