Page 103 of Working for the Mob

A low male’s voice cut through the night air. “You see ‘em, Walt?”

“Shut your trap!” a whispered shout responded. They couldn’t have been more than twenty yards away. “You want them to know we’re here?”

“I think they already know,” the first man said.

Footsteps scraped against the pavement behind us; they no longer cared about staying quiet. Genevieve’s eyes widened even further and we both stayed stock still. One movement could immediately give away our positions and the newsstand didn’t provide much cover.

We were in a jam.

“I think there’s just two of them,” I told Genevieve in a whisper. I threw off my jacket and stashed my wallet into a side pocket. “I’m going to stand up and start firing to get their positions. I need you to stay under cover.”

“Behind this newsstand?” she asked, and I nodded. It would have to do.

I jumped at a loud clang that sounded like a pair of trash cans hitting the asphalt, accompanied by a few choice cuss words. Now they would know we were aware of them, and would have to be more cautious.

“Unless you have a gun hidden somewhere between your bosoms, I need you to stay down,” I said, “I’m going to pop up on three.”

I shifted to a crouch to get ready. “One … Two …”

“Wait.” She grabbed the collar of my shirt and pulled my face down to hers. She kissed me more fiercely than I could imagine.

Usually kisses don’t do much for me, but this one made me see stars. Her ardor sucked me in. I almost forgot that we were in the middle of an ambush. This is the woman I loved. The woman that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.

She pulled away and the whiplash hit me like a ton of bricks.

“Three …”

I popped up and fired blindly in the direction of their voices. Movement caught my eye thirty paces behind us, as a man took cover in an alley.

A flash of light against the darkness caught my attention as shots rained around me and into the newsstand. I snapped my gun across the street and fired.

I kept firing until my revolver clicked empty. I crouched behind the newsstand and reloaded the chamber, with a swiftness that my father had drilled into my fingers.

“I never even saw them,” I said.

Worry creased Genevieve's forehead and filled her eyes. I felt the same. If I couldn't even locate them, how the hell was I going to shoot them? I shook the thought from my head. I needed to stay focused.

I raised above the newsstand again, gun out, but the two men were upon us. Both their rifles were fixed on me. I had time to release one shot and I dropped without seeing if it hit, and I was rewarded with a scream. One down.

Bullets drove into the dainty newsstand. I prayed no bullets would break through the wood. When this was over, I was going to have to buy this guy a new kiosk and take out a subscription of one of everything for a year.

I waited for the click of an empty magazine, and once I heard it, I dove out from behind cover and aimed. I only needed one shot, but released the whole chamber for good measure. The dark figure crumpled to the ground with a thud.

Chapter 31 – Art

My ears rang. I would have trouble hearing anything for a week. But I brushed that aside. I needed to make sure I completed the job.

I marched up to the first body: six clean hits. The next lay on the ground some feet away with a single bullet straight through the forehead.

Satisfied they weren’t going to be bothering us anytime soon, I returned to the newsstand. Genevieve curled behind the poor bunker and shook like a field mouse.

“Are you okay?” I asked her.

She looked up with frightened eyes. “Is it alright to come out?”

I nodded, and she leapt into my arms. I was surprised someone her size could even hug that tightly.

“Please, never let that happen again,” she said, and dug her head into my shoulder.

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