b“/bbNight/b! I bhave /bno bquarrel /bbwith /byoub! /bbJust /bhand over that bitchb, /band bwe /bbcan /ball walk awayb!/b”

Night’s bexpression /bbdarkened/b. bHe /bfired again, the bbullet /bgrazing Hunter’s bcar /bbinches /bfrom his head. bHunter /bduckedb, /bbnearly /bfalling bin /bbhis /bbpanic/bb. /b

“Nightb, /bbstop/b!” Hunter yelledb. /bb“/bbBe /breasonable! bGive /bme the womanb, /band I promise you and your friend can bleave /bbwithout /ba scratch. Otherwiseb, /bmy men won’t hold back!”

Night switched to Russian, unleashing a stream bof /bprofanities that would make a sailor blush. He fired again, deliberately missing Hunter but making him cower.

“Are you insane?b” /bHunter screamed. “You’d kill me over some woman? Do you know who my father bis/bb? /bI’m a senator’s sonb, /bfor bChrist’s /bbsake/bb!/b”

I slid out from the passenger side, the weight of my Benelli M4 shotgunfortable in my hands. While Night kept Hunter distracted, bI /bmoved silently between vehicles, positioning myself for a clear shot at Hunter’s SUV.

One of his guards spotted me and raised his weapon. I fired first, the shotgun’s st echoing through the night. The guard crumpled. I pumped the shotgun and continued my approach.

I took aim at the fuel tank of Hunter’s vehicle and pulled the trigger. The explosion was immediate and spectacr. Orange mes burst upward as the SUV’s gas tank ignited, sending a shockwave that knocked Hunter off his feet despite his bodyguard’s warning shout.

Night used the confusion to advance, picking off the guards who were trying to help Hunter escape. His shots weren’t lethal–he was toying with them, bullets kicking up pavement around their feet like he was making them dance. fn062b Get full chapters from f?ndnovel/fn062b

Hunter scrambled away on all fours, his injured leg dragging behind him. His face was a mask of terror as he realized how badly he had miscalcted.

“Youb–/byou can’t do this,” he stammered as Night approached, gun aimed casually at his kneecap. “My father will-”

The bullet tore through Hunter’s knee, cutting off his sentence and recing it with a scream of agony. He copsed, clutching his shattered joint.

b“/bYour father will what?” Night asked, crouching beside the whimpering man.

Hunter crawled backward, leaving a smear of blood on the asphalt. “You can’t kill me,” he gasped. “My father won’t let you get away with

bthis/b.”

Night didn’t respond. Instead, he stood and fired at another nearby SUV. The bullet punctured its fuel tank, and secondster, another explosion lit up the night sky.

Chris joined bus/bb, /bhis own pistol in hand. “My turn,” he said, aiming at a different vehicle and firing. Another explosion rocked the street.

I selected my own targetb, /bsending a shotgun shell into a fourth SUV. The st was satisfying, the vehicle erupting into mes.

One by oneb, /bwe methodically triggered explosions, turning Hunter’s fleet into a ring of fire. Each shot, each explosion, made Hunter flinch and cower lower to the ground. By the time we finished, he’d soiled himself, the dark stain visible on his pants as hey surrounded by burning wreckage.

Distant sirens walled, growing louder by the second.

“Time to go, Night said, holstering his weapon. We returned to our bSUV/b, leaving bHunter /bsobbing in the middle of his destroyed convoy.

As we bsped /bbaway/b, AC/DC sted through the speakers. Night drummed his fingers on the steering wheelb, /bhis earlier angerpletely bgone/bb. /b

I’m thinking sushi, Chris suggested from the backseat, as casual bas /bbif /bwe were leaving ba /bmovie theater rather than a battlefield.

“I could go for some vodka,” Night countered.

I leaned back in my seat, watching Moscow’s skyline recede bin /bthe side mirror. “Both sound good to me.”

Behind us, the mes climbed higher, a beacon that would keep the police busy long after we’d disappeared into the night.

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