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“Three down,” I tell Trey, peeking out of the room. Trey was right, this looks to be like more of a fucking compound than a fucking business. As I exit the room and move deeper down the hall, I notice that it opens up into a huge commons area, and there aren’t but one or two bastards sitting in the place. I hear the sound of Trey’s gun being fired.
Three shots. Three bullets. Three fewer fuckers to kill.
“Three more down,” Trey whispers.
“Did you hear that?” one of the men says, looking up from his newspaper. I take that moment, pop around the corner and pull the trigger on my gun. Like always, my bullet hits right where I aim. The other man looks over at me, terror overtaking his features. From the looks of it, he doesn’t have any weapons, but then again, I can’t be sure.
“Where are they?” I demand. The man doesn’t even get a chance to answer before I hear the sound of Trey’s gun going off. The bullet enters the man’s brain, blood and brain matter exploding everywhere before his body sags to the ground.
Trey appears in front of me a moment later, a grin on his face.
“Show off,” I sneer. He rolls his eyes.
“As if I was going to just let you sit there and interrogate him. I know where they are.”
“Is that all of them?” I ask Trey.
“On this floor, yes. There are two more downstairs where they’re holding Wes and Jessa.”
“Lead the way, fucker.”
“Don’t be jealous, brother. We both know you’re a good shot too.” He blows me a pretend kiss and heads for a door off the side of this room.
