Page 90 of The Chameleon

Ares spotted the man hobbling away toward the exit.

“I’m going after Grandpa Zitti,” Ares growled, slinking around the table, trying not to get his head blown off.

“Grab a gun, you idiot!” Matteo shouted, reminding Ares that he was bringing a knife to a gunfight.

“Shit. Yeah, thanks!” Ares called back as he frantically searched the mound of dead bodies, looking for another gun.

Ares grabbed an assault rifle and threw the strap over his shoulder. He paused for a moment before deciding to grab a second rifle from a man missing the left side of his face.

Sorry, buddy. No open casket for you.

Actually, there would be no caskets for any of them. Once Ares’s crew was finished terminating these assholes, he was going to have to light this place on fire, hopefully destroying any evidence of their presence.

Stopping just inside the door, Ares cracked it open slightly. He glanced around, taking in his surroundings. He hadn’t survived all these years by running unprepared, headfirst into danger. That was the quickest way to catch a bullet with your teeth.

Once he was certain the coast was clear, he slid outside, ducking behind a forklift that sat off to the side.

All around him, the world was at war. Glass exploded from vans as bullets missed their intended targets. Ares didn’t think that those bullets belonged to any of his men. His guys were trained killers. They hit what they shot at.

Screams. Crashes. Gunfire.

People ran, people hid, and people died.

Where was he?Ares scanned the darkness, searching for the greasy-haired Italian who dared to kidnap the guy he loved.

Oh! There you are, you piece of shit.

Ares spotted Massimo hobbling toward a black sedan.

The fucker is running away!

It was at that moment that Massimo shouted. His body went flying backward until he was lying flat on his back, staring up at the stars.

Ares stopped, startled. What the heck just happened?

“Fuck!” Massimo growled, covering his nose with both his hands. “You broke my fuckin’ nose!”

Patrick stepped out from behind an oil drum with the biggest smirk on his bloody face.

“Looking for this one?” he shouted at Ares.

Ares chuckled. He jogged over to where Patrick was standing over the laid-out mobster.

Patrick grabbed the snarling Italian and pulled him to his knees.

“Let me go, asshole! Do you know who I am?”

“Yeah, you’re the guy who’s about to get his balls cut off by the man coming this way.” Patrick winked at Ares as he came to a stop next to them. “Love seeing that vicious look in your eyes.”

“Can’t wait to tear into this bastard. It’s been a long time coming,” Ares snarled, standing in front of his lifelong nemesis.

Another explosion. Ares’s team of professionally trained killers took out each of the drivers trying to escape with vanloads of trafficked people. Peppered around the dock, angry young stripper boys kicked, punched, and even slapped frustrated burly Italians doing what they could to try and save those who had fallen victim to this heartless gang of trafficking monsters.

“They’re people! Not slaves!” Levi shouted as he beat a man senseless with what looked like an umbrella.

Levi had his legs wrapped around the torso of a confused gang member who was trying his best to block the blows Levi was striking at his head.

It was like watching a chihuahua attack a confused rottweiler.

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