into pitch black.
He covered his head with his hands. Gunshots popped off like firecrackers at a Canada Day celebration. Flashes of light interspersed with gunfire as the guards stood in their fortified positions and shot at whoever was attacking them.
Things quieted for a few seconds. Vincenzo patted himself down to look for wounds but found none. Moving blind in the total darkness, he flipped onto his back and listened. He detected movement to his left, about where that cocky bastard Phil had been. He closed his eyes and lifted his weapon. Listening as best he could, he moved his weapon toward the movement and fired.
A grunt told him he hit his mark. The thump of dead weight confirmed it.
He thrust himself forward with his feet, sliding along the hangar floor on his back, trying to get some room between him and the four chairs that circled the coffee table.
After another bout of heavy machine-gun fire from outside, Vincenzo made it to the outer wall, unscathed.
“You in there,” someone shouted on a bullhorn. “We have the hangar surrounded. Come out or we’ll storm the building. I repeat, you are surrounded. You have one minute to come out.”
Shit, shit, shit.
Someone grabbed him from behind. He couldn’t help himself as he shouted out.
“Shhh. Take this.”
A cold metal object landed in his palm.
“Put them on. You’ll see better.”
Vincenzo felt around the surface of the object in his hands and found the cloth backing strip. Goggles of some kind. He pulled the elastic-like cloth out and placed it on his head, the goggles over his eyes. Instantly, the blackened hangar came to light in a green haze.
“There’s a lot of men out there and we need everyone here to do their part,” the guard said.
“Their part?”
The guard with the M16 looked down at him. “Our orders were, if the meeting is interrupted for any reason, all enemies die. That includes the Gambino family members who are out there right now. The police had guaranteed we wouldn’t be interrupted.”
Gambino family?
“Why is the Gambino family attacking us? On second thought, why weren’t they invited?”
“Those are questions I can’t answer. I have no idea.”
Through the green lens, Vincenzo watched as the guard stood, aimed through a small hole in the corrugated metal wall and carefully aimed his weapon. Vincenzo searched the wall and found a similar hole. He stared out at the men lined up in pairs behind the cars and vans.
The guard beside him began firing. Boom, boom, boom . Just like that, men dropped one by one. A few lucky assholes ducked in time, but then the guard switched guns. Vincenzo saw that it was another elephant gun. As the guard fired, each round was like a cannon, and the vehicles were taking most of the hits.
A van exploded.
Vincenzo, blinded by the fireball, dropped to the floor and ripped off his goggles. After his eyes cleared, he placed the goggles back on and surveyed the hangar. Two other guards pumped bullet after bullet out of their respective holes in the walls. Three bodies were sprawled out on the floor by the coffee table.
The bosses of the other families are all dead. Holy shit!
The Fuccini family was the only surviving member of the peace accord, with the Gambino family making a major power play outside.
What the hell had happened? How did it get so bad, so fast? Now the four top crime families would be at war after all, and it was the Gambino’s who had started it .
He stopped the pity party, turned around and began firing his gun out through the hole in the wall. What a waste of bullets. He hit nothing and saw no one outside anymore.
He pulled his weapon back in. The guard three feet to his left was reloading.
Vincenzo aimed his weapon at the open area on the guard’s neck. He closed his eyes to avoid the blinding flash as he pulled the trigger. He opened his eyes again
He covered his head with his hands. Gunshots popped off like firecrackers at a Canada Day celebration. Flashes of light interspersed with gunfire as the guards stood in their fortified positions and shot at whoever was attacking them.
Things quieted for a few seconds. Vincenzo patted himself down to look for wounds but found none. Moving blind in the total darkness, he flipped onto his back and listened. He detected movement to his left, about where that cocky bastard Phil had been. He closed his eyes and lifted his weapon. Listening as best he could, he moved his weapon toward the movement and fired.
A grunt told him he hit his mark. The thump of dead weight confirmed it.
He thrust himself forward with his feet, sliding along the hangar floor on his back, trying to get some room between him and the four chairs that circled the coffee table.
After another bout of heavy machine-gun fire from outside, Vincenzo made it to the outer wall, unscathed.
“You in there,” someone shouted on a bullhorn. “We have the hangar surrounded. Come out or we’ll storm the building. I repeat, you are surrounded. You have one minute to come out.”
Shit, shit, shit.
Someone grabbed him from behind. He couldn’t help himself as he shouted out.
“Shhh. Take this.”
A cold metal object landed in his palm.
“Put them on. You’ll see better.”
Vincenzo felt around the surface of the object in his hands and found the cloth backing strip. Goggles of some kind. He pulled the elastic-like cloth out and placed it on his head, the goggles over his eyes. Instantly, the blackened hangar came to light in a green haze.
“There’s a lot of men out there and we need everyone here to do their part,” the guard said.
“Their part?”
The guard with the M16 looked down at him. “Our orders were, if the meeting is interrupted for any reason, all enemies die. That includes the Gambino family members who are out there right now. The police had guaranteed we wouldn’t be interrupted.”
Gambino family?
“Why is the Gambino family attacking us? On second thought, why weren’t they invited?”
“Those are questions I can’t answer. I have no idea.”
Through the green lens, Vincenzo watched as the guard stood, aimed through a small hole in the corrugated metal wall and carefully aimed his weapon. Vincenzo searched the wall and found a similar hole. He stared out at the men lined up in pairs behind the cars and vans.
The guard beside him began firing. Boom, boom, boom . Just like that, men dropped one by one. A few lucky assholes ducked in time, but then the guard switched guns. Vincenzo saw that it was another elephant gun. As the guard fired, each round was like a cannon, and the vehicles were taking most of the hits.
A van exploded.
Vincenzo, blinded by the fireball, dropped to the floor and ripped off his goggles. After his eyes cleared, he placed the goggles back on and surveyed the hangar. Two other guards pumped bullet after bullet out of their respective holes in the walls. Three bodies were sprawled out on the floor by the coffee table.
The bosses of the other families are all dead. Holy shit!
The Fuccini family was the only surviving member of the peace accord, with the Gambino family making a major power play outside.
What the hell had happened? How did it get so bad, so fast? Now the four top crime families would be at war after all, and it was the Gambino’s who had started it .
He stopped the pity party, turned around and began firing his gun out through the hole in the wall. What a waste of bullets. He hit nothing and saw no one outside anymore.
He pulled his weapon back in. The guard three feet to his left was reloading.
Vincenzo aimed his weapon at the open area on the guard’s neck. He closed his eyes to avoid the blinding flash as he pulled the trigger. He opened his eyes again
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