Page 149 of Savage Don

Idiots.

“See you on the other side, brother,” Leonid whispers. He’s already disappearing into the darkness when I light the flare and toss it down the middle of the open floor ahead.

Cocking my gun, I make a beeline for the eastern wall.

I’ve barely been able to reach the bottom of the staircase before my flare stirs up quite the commotion.

Upstairs, I can see about a dozen flashlights turn outwards.

Alright, that’s not too bad. Leonid and I can take a dozen men on our own.

But then the lights start to multiply, and by the time they’ve turned on me, I’ve lost count.

Shit.

There’s no time to ask questions, I just start firing.

“Fuck!” Someone shouts. A moment later, a cry of pain echoes through the cold dark concrete building.

It’s followed by the sound of a falling body cracking against the floor below.

Still, I’m blinded by the rows of flashlights trained on me. But that doesn’t mean I don’t know where I’m going. I’ve gone over the blueprints of this place. The offices are just up ahead, behind this wall of enemy fire.

Jumping behind a pillar, I take cover to avoid the tidal wave of bullets and reload my gun. On the other side of the room, I can hear the echoes of Leonid’s own fight.

We’re both being pinned down by wave after wave of gunfire. I press against the wall, waiting for it to ricochet off of the metal staircase and out of harms way. But more than my fair share comes flying towards me. Most of it rips into the pillar, shredding it’s corners to bits, but every once in a while, a flaming piece of metal slashes across my body and I have to bite my tongue to keep from giving away my position.

This isn’t a good hiding spot, but I don’t have to stay here long. It only takes a few deep breaths before they have to reload too.

“Is he dead?” I hear someone ask as everyone seems to stop at the same time to fill their guns with more ammo. Amateurs.

I answer their question with my own hail of bullets.

“Fottuto inferno!” They all curse at the same time.

At least I know now that these fuckers are definitely Italians.

One by one, the flashlights begin to fall, and my eyesight readjusts.

Finally, I can see how many men there are left to kill. At least two dozen, but half of them have their backs turned to me.

There’s another demon approaching them from the other end of this rickety balcony.

Leonid and I are closing in on them. There’s nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. We’ve combed over the blueprints. The only way in or out from one of these offices is down these stairs.

They’re trapped.

And Leonid and I aren’t about to leave any survivors.

Before I can take another step forward, though, I feel a bullet hit me directly in the chest.

The force nearly knocks me off of my feet, but I’m wearing a state-of-the-art bullet-proof vest, and I’m able to keep my balance and push forward. The pain is no greater than a strong punch.

I’ve been punched hundreds of times before. I’ve been stabbed. Hell, I’ve been shot without any protection on. And I’ve always managed to get back up and keep fighting.

This is nothing.

Grinding my teeth, I continue firing into my dwindling opposition. Their bullets whizz past my ears as I reach into my back pocket with my free hand and pull out a grenade.