Page 312 of 7+Us Makes Nine

The guy was looking around, his head snapping from side to side, gun held in a tight two-handed grip. His gaze rested on my car. I froze.

I could see his eyes narrow at the car and hoped his vision wasn’t great. He looked away, walking towards the entrance of the warehouse. He poked one of his thugs in the chest and waved him towards my car.

Shit.

I sat there as still as I could, holding the binoculars as the guy swaggered lazily over to the opposite sidewalk. A pistol was held casually at his side, and he was rubbing a fat hand over his clean-shaven head.

Well, I guess now’s as good a time as any. Let’s do this.

I took out my cell and wallet, everything in my pockets that would hinder me, and put them in the passenger footwell. I unclipped the pistol holstered to my hip and slowly lowered the binoculars. The guy was approaching the car, eyes narrowing as he spotted me.

I clicked open the driver's door and rolled out, coming to a kneel behind the door. I was mostly obscured from the thug’s line of sight, and any inaccurate bullets were likely to ricochet harmlessly off of the metal.

“Police!” I shouted, loudly and firmly. “Freeze, you’re under arrest! Put your hands where I can see ‘em!” The guy froze for a second, then brought his gun up to aim lazily at me.

“Fuck you!” Then came the moment I was waiting for. He shot at me, the bullets hissing high and wide above my head and to my right. The bangs echoed loudly from the building behind me.

Well, he’s just signed his own death warrant. Don’t have to justify shooting a guy that’s just shot at me first. Or any of his friends, for that matter.

In less than a second my gun was in my hand, and I clicked the safety off. I popped up out of cover, gun rising to my eye level as I aimed at his head.

I squeezed the trigger, and his head snapped back, arms convulsing as he dropped to the floor with a loud thud.

A moment later a head was peering out of the front door, looking over to see the commotion. A few gunshots rang out from the doorway, going harmlessly wide. The door was closed hurriedly as I slid over the hood of the car and began to sprint across the road towards the van, which was parked haphazardly between me and the building.

Perfect cover. Idiots.

My eyes were on the van as I approached, checking there was no one hiding in waiting. The front seats were empty and a brief glance into the back told me that was empty, too.

An empty van. So they came here to grab something in a hurry. Looks like Conall is cleaning house, but unfortunately for him he’s a little too late.

I was one step ahead of him, but I had to act quickly. The element of surprise was in my favor, and I didn’t want any more backup to shoot me in the ass before I could act.

I weighed up my options and decided on a plan of attack. The front door was probably locked and guarded, guns trained on it. I’d have to find another way in and fast.

I jogged quickly to the wall of the building, head low. I was out of sight of the camera as I reached the tall, corrugated metal wall. I rested my back against it and chose a direction. I headed right toward the side of the building. I popped my head round to find a figure standing at the doorway, head swinging from side to side. He didn’t spot me.

“Ain’t no sign of him, Cathal! Where the fuck is he?” he shouted angrily.

I heard a muffled shout in response from the building, followed by the bark of another. A third voice shouted something inaudible in response.

“I ain’t going out front! You go! Who put you in charge, anyway?” the guy shouted, head looking back into the building.

A voice sounded from the other side of the metal wall behind my head. I could just about make out the words.

“Conall put me in charge, mon! Now get out dere before I fuck you up!”

The guy swore in response, foul language spilling out in a torrent. I heard him turn to head my way.

I took a breath and popped out from cover, raising my gun as I turned to steady myself.

Surprise, you ugly scumbag.

I shot him in the chest as I raised my gun and once in the centre of his forehead. He dropped to the floor, eyes wide in surprise.

I didn’t give myself time to think, acting on instinct. I ran to the open door as voices started shouting from within the building. I guessed there were four more of Conall’s men inside, at least.

I risked a peep through the door, seeing figures heading for cover around old, grey metal industrial equipment. A large, solid looking unit sat a few feet away from the wall to my left, and I couldn’t see anyone near if. It was about four or five feet from the doorway, I guessed.

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