“I know, but we don’t have any better options. Davide can’t pinpoint exactly where Leo’s hiding, but he’s definitely in here. And if he’s here, I’ll bet anything those fake doctor fucks are hunting for him.”
Stefano nods grimly and moves faster. “We’d better find him first then.”
We set off together, walking slightly staggered and spread out. He takes the left and I take the right. When there are cars, we use them as cover, moving quick and low and quiet. There’s no conversation. Stefano knows his business. My heart’s racing, and a thousand worries tear into my mind, but I have to keep my head straight. One wrong move and we’ll both be dead, and I owe it to Stefano and Leo to focus on the mission. I can’t let my personal attachment to this shit get in the way of keeping my people safe.
They’ve already done too damn much, and I’m going to ask more of them in the near future.
There’s a noise a level down. Stefano catches my eye and signals ahead. He rushes forward, the bloodthirsty bastard. That man’slike a bloodhound for violence. I chase after, keeping steady, and we descend the ramp together.
Around the bend and onto a more heavily populated section of the parking structure. I grab Stefano’s shoulder and hold him back, listening carefully. There’s nothing, only silence, until?—
Someone yells just ahead. It’s a primal sound, no words, just fear and anger.
Then we’re sprinting. Stefano’s just a step ahead of me. We break down the next row and ahead are three men, all of them wearing scrubs with surgical masks covering their faces.
And at the far end of the row is Leo. He’s using a car for cover, gun aimed at the three bastards, ready to open up like a motherfucker.
Stefano beats him to it. The big man kneels down and starts shooting. The doctors were already in the process of scattering, and only one goes down easy. Blood sprays from his body as bullets rip into his chest and send him flying sideways.
The other two killers take cover and start returning fire. We’re out in the open, and I’m forced sideways behind some poor asshole’s Tesla. The fancy electric car eats up more than a few bullets. Stefano comes up beside me, and together, we lie down, covering fire steady enough to keep the attackers pinned down behind their vehicles.
“Keep shooting,” I order him before slipping away.
“Wait,” he snarls, but I don’t give him time to argue. If someone’s taking a risk here, it’ll be me.
Leo seems to get the idea too. Either that or he’s going crazy down there with bloodlust as he fires off magazine aftermagazine. The noise is deafening in the concrete parking garage, but that’s a good thing. I use the chaos to distract our targets as I sprint out in the open, heart racing wildly, angling for the other side of the narrow road.
I keep waiting for a bullet to smash into my skull; one second here, another lights out, but I manage to reach the other side, gasping for breath.
The two men are leaning up against a truck. I go slow, walking crouched so they can’t see me easily, and I manage to make it within a couple of cars before one of them finally looks over. He shouts, ripping down his mask and turning his gun on me, but much too fucking late.
I blow his brains out. His skull splatters his friend in the face as two bullets rip through his forehead. At this range, I can’t miss even if I tried. I turn on the second, and he tries to dive away, but my bullets take him in the chest. He hits the ground with a dull, wet thud, splattered with gore and covered in thick, sticky blood.
“Hold!” I yell over the shooting and wave a hand in the air.
Stefano’s firing stops, but it takes Leo another few seconds to realize he’s not in danger anymore.
I rush over to the two downed men. I kick aside their guns. One’s clearly dead, considering he’s missing most of his skull and his brains are painted all over the floor, but the other’s still sucking at air. Red foam bubbles on his lips. I kneel on his chest, one hand jabbing a thumb into one of his open wounds.
“Where’s Corrado?” I snarl in his face.
He moans in agony. “Don’t… know…”
I twist my thumb, opening the wound even more. “Where the fuck is he?” I rip the surgical mask off, but I don’t recognize his face. He’s young though, probably in his early twenties. “Where’d your orders come from?”
His mouth works, face twisted in pain, but his breathing is erratic. I watch the fucker die, and I don’t get a thing from him.
“Holy shit!” Leo comes pounding over, staring at me with wild eyes. “Where did you come from?!”
“We got here fast as we could.” I get up off the dead killer’s body, shaking my head. “Where’s Raf?”
Leo lets out a shocked, happy laugh. “I can’t believe my fucking luck. I thought we were dead.”
“You will be if Raf doesn’t make it.”
He nods grimly and gestures for me to follow. Stefano goes through the pockets of the attackers in case they have any ID that might help figure out where Corrado’s hiding.
I follow Leo over to a little nook between a big passenger van and a massive pickup truck. Tucked back there near the concrete wall is a rolling hospital bed, the side gates both up, and Raf lying under a few sheets, his face pale and sunken. Beside him, a pretty young nurse is checking his vitals and holding up a couple of IV bags, her face greenish pale like she wants to puke.
