Page 17 of Sip
I yank out my Glock when the back door swings open. I guess we’re doing this now. I fire off the first shot, shattering the window and dropping the guy attempting to slide out of the sedan under the protection of the beige metal. Not happening today. They will be annihilated.
The other three doors burst open, and I draw out my other gun. Shooting from both hands I step closer and closer ignoring the bullets whizzing past me. Just like the old saying goes, when you have nothing to live for, you’re not afraid to die. I empty my cartridges until all the occupants are dead.
Then I reload and turn my attention to the Range Rover barreling toward us. Aiming directly into the windshield, I let loose, and the vehicle swerves hard to the right. Our men back us up with their 47s and flames shoot out from under the left fender after they hit the gas tank.
Acrid smell of burning brakes wafts through the evening air as they screech to slow down. A few more sparks pop from the under carriage, and the entire frame ignites. The men dive for the ground as the vehicle rolls into the grass. Instinct sets them free temporarily now that they’ve only jumped more clearly into our sights.
I enjoy picking them off one by one. A bullet to the temple. A slug to the chest. Just to be an ass, I take out one fucker with a blast in each knee and let him writhe on the ground. From the pictures, Niall and Conor provided, this bastard is the one who likes to prey on kids. If I’m mistaken, I don’t feel guilty. He deserves the punishment for any of the other numerous crimes he’s committed against us.
His wails of agony mingle with Niall’s laughter. My cousin pats me on the back before imitating my earlier double handed attack.
“That was fucking sick, man. Like out of a movie. Bam. Bam. Bam. You just needed the black duster coat billowing behind you.”
He mimics me for way longer than beyond annoying, and I shake my head, turning away from his childish antics. Conor meets my eyes. Confirming his brother’s immaturity that I’ve questioned since the get go. I nod to him. Conor will be the one who I set up as the boss.
A weird sensation rumbles through me from the idea that the younger brother rules over the older. I force myself to ignore the traitorous thought. That’s not how the family works except in death or incompetence. Shane’s very much alive but Niall is definitely unqualified to lead.
“Niall!”
He spins around from my irritated tone. I point to the idiot attempting to army crawl away, ripping his pants against the concrete and scraping the skin from his legs in his desperate yet futile attempt to escape. “Load him up. We need to get some answers out of him.”
Niall’s expression explodes with pure ecstasy. He’s nuts as well as sadistic, making this an easier transition than I anticipated. He will be perfect for the punisher role. He rams the butt of his gun into the injured man’s mouth to shut him up and then throws him in the back of our vehicle while Conor calls for a clean-up crew. Bodies are such a pain to dispose of. People really have no idea.
After he hangs up, Conor and I stride in amiable silence to the Mercedes. I take shot gun so I can fuck with my damn phone. Finally the messages load although I just care about one of them.
Grace:I guess everything happened too fast for you to say good-bye. So I wanted to tell you I hope you have a good trip and safe travels.
Emotion only she can generate floods my chest. Here I am slamming Niall for being crazy when obviously there’s something wrong withmetoo. I feel absolutely nothing for just helping annihilate eleven men, ready to torture another one until he breaks. All without an ounce of guilt or remorse. Then I read her sweet words and I come alive.
I infer from the phrasing how hurt she is that we didn’t speak before I left. Yet she still ensures I know she cares about me. Less than twenty-four hours since I’ve been gone, and I miss her already. I’m a fool.
Which reaffirms my reason for being here. I have to be anywhere she’s not. I scroll through the rest of my texts and update Shane on what I’ve accomplished so far. Keeping my mind on my work is the only thing that will keep me sane.
Blood coats my hands when I pull Niall off Keenan’s corpse. He’s in his zone and doesn’t realize the fucker died five minutes ago. If I didn’t intervene, my cousin would keep slicing him up until he carved all the skin from his nasty body. “We’ve got more interrogations to conduct so keep your energy for them.”
Niall starts from my voice, coming out of his head and back to reality. The maniacal grin fades when he takes in my red fingers. Frowning at the stains, he’s well aware I hate when he loses himself in his work to the point of waste.
He hangs his head. Ironic how pitiful he is when he’s reprimanded despite how deadly he is. “Sorry boss.”
I glance at Conor to make sure he’s watching— and learning from— our interaction. Pleased that he is, I turn back to Niall. I have to rebuild his confidence to keep him going. “Really good work though. You got out of him what we needed.”
My praise restores his smile and his motivation. With a cheerful whistle, he picks up his tools and carries them to his work area. As much as he enjoys the carnage, he’s just as fanatical about starting clean with every victim, literally and figuratively. I let him work through the methodical process that refreshes him, so he’ll be ready for the next bastard.
Now that we know who sabotaged the hack on the ISE, we can kill him and implement our plan. If we have the power to shut down the exchange, we have the power to control the country beyond just this city.
“I’ll have Brody go pick Declan up.”
I nod my approval to Conor’s remark. Glad that he’s telling and not asking me. In the month I’ve been here, he’s already surpassing my expectations. Leadership seems to be inherent in him. He’s decisive and purposeful in his actions. Soon he won’t need me anymore to guide him.
While he makes his call, I slide out my phone too. Torture I inflict on myself to read her messages. I rarely respond back. My lack of answer never deters her. She still texts me, smiley faces and explanation points and all of her abundant joy radiating through the screen.
Grace:My sister’s coming for the weekend!!!
I can’t help myself and type a reply back to her. Eager for my pixie girl’s sweetness after just witnessing Niall’s brutality.
Me:Only her?
Grace:Hi!!!I’m so glad you’re there! No, she’s bringing Hudson. Carl has to work.
