Pip
Pip
Pip
The snipers on the roof dropped to the pavement with sickening thuds.
Bullets slammed into my side. The armor held—barely. I shifted, taking out the two bastards to my left.
Pip
Pip
Only fucking head shots.
The roar of a helicopter thundered above. Bullets rained from the rooftop beside Mavin. My SUV’s windows shattered.
“Get down!” Ritchie barked in my ear.
I dropped into a crouch just as the ground rocked with an explosion. Gunfire tore through the air.
A firm grip landed on my shoulder.
“I’m here, cousin,” Ritchie said, his voice thick with emotion. “Let’s end these motherfuckers.”
I met his gaze. A grin curled my lips.
“Yeah. Let’s.”
I flattened onto my stomach, angling my rifle beneath the SUV door. Ritchie crouched beside me, his AR-fifteen aimed at our enemies from the side of the door.
"You don't mess with the Pituccos," I shouted as we both fired our weapons towards the tank.
Amidst all the chaos and devastation around us, I didn't have time to process everything happening. The grenade Ritchie threw and the missile fired by the helicopter had done some major damage.
The tank flipped into a smoking crater.
The air reeked of gunpowder and burning metal.
The sound of the tank firing rounds at the SUV had us running for cover.
A thick cloud of black smoke rose into the sky.
Our men swarmed in, clearing the rooftops.
A second missile struck the tank barrel.
Silence.
I aimed my rifle as I limped toward the wreckage.
“Mavin!” My voice was raw, laced with fury. “Come out!”
A ragged cough. “Fuck you, Catch.”
I smirked. “Stay in there, then. I’ll have the chopper drop another missile. Your father won’t even recognize his precious son.”
Silence. Then—the hatch creaked open.
