“Maybe.”
My eyes scan the road, too, noting the normality of this end of town. Street food. Neon signs highlighting crappy restaurants and back-end whore houses. People milling around. It's no wonder I barely come here. The fucking place is nothing more than peasants and whores.
“I've already scouted it. We can get in…”
He doesn't get to finish the rest of his sentence. I'm walking across the road to the entrance of the restaurant before he blinks, sucking in the stench of cheap Chinese food in the air. He can join me if he wants, but either way, I'm going in. At fucking pace.
“The hell, Vico?” he says, catching up with me.
“I’m bored.” I keep walking, heading straight for the doors.
Dragons greet me, gold filigree swirling around the edges of the huge frame like some adage to a country that does not exist in mine. Fucking dragons. They come here with their bullying tactics, after I’ve allowed them some space in my city, and dare to encroach further than they're offered? Let alone stealing from me.
Enough.
The door bursts in with help from my foot. I scan, ignoring the diners, and look for the back doors Nathan was talking about. Two guys dressed in black glare at me from a far-end table, one of them immediately getting up and stepping through the doors behind him. The other stands, too, as I press through the tables and draw out my gun. He draws his own, eyes turning to slits at my advance. The fucking shot that comes over my shoulder has me ducking and spinning, ready to fire as the entire restaurant scrambles out of the way. Quinn frowns and comes at me, his gun still aimed at the doors we’re heading for. He pulls out another one, a smirk suddenly appearing on his face.
“You wanna give me some warning?”
“Guess I’m bored, too,” he says, walking straight past me. He dodges a guy, pushing him out of the way in the chaos around us. Chairs scrape, tables flip up, women scream and hustle as their men shove them towards the door. I’m at Quinn’s back before they’ve left, my own gun aimed behind us.
“You’re a goddamn maniac,” I chuckle out, eyeing up the room.
“You came in first,” he mutters, quieting his tone as he hovers at the doors. “Nice fucking announcement that we’re here.”
I look down at the guy he shot, blood dripping out of his skull, and grab at the gun in his hand. Seems like we’re going to fucking war in a restaurant.
“I was aiming for talk.”
“No, you weren’t. Don’t get pissy ‘cause I got the first shot in.”
I snort and scan the area again, eyes flicking back to him as he presses through the doors. “Clear, get around me,” he mutters, giving me room to pass him through to the kitchens. Three chefs hold up their hands, knives in all of them. I nod at them, aiming to get them to put the carvers down. Two of them do, slowly, but the other one? I lose a round without thought and send the fucker to the ground, annoyed at him even thinking about it.
“Where?” I ask. He comes to my side and then crosses through to the end of the room, hands reaching for a pad by the side of a freezer unit to key something in quick.
“Gotta give it to the woman, she’s a thief and a half,” he says, nodding at me to brace as the door begins to pull. “You ready?”
Always.
My arm hovers over his shoulder, our bodies touching to keep the aim precise. There’s nothing but an empty vault room when it widens enough for me to see in, but the opposing door holds all kinds of trouble behind it. I can tell by the noise echoing into the space from behind the walls.
“You got a code for that, too?” I ask. He nods and looks around, gun aimed high and sweeping the room as he creeps into it, and I follow, covering our backs.
The dull thud of another code being accepted drones in my ear, reminding me of what’s coming as feet scrambling and shouts can be heard. I wait until the last second, listening to the slide of the metal door opening before turning and emptying rounds straight into the room over his shoulder. We both spin back-to-back, gauging out how many are here. Two dead already, one more blasted backwards as Quinn starts firing. I search the corners, eyes focused on anything that moves as I assess the threat. Nine that I can see. No fucking woman, though.
Two men come in from the right suddenly enough that I let more rounds go at them, not caring how many die here today, as long as it’s not me or Quinn. They both drop as bullets come flying past my head and I push Quinn to the side to duck.
“Fuck,” he spits out, turning me back to the wall. “The fuck did they come from?”
He shoves at me, arms out wide to gain as much room as he can, until our arms cross in the shooting. More bullets fly from everywhere. I squint into the gloom, letting off my own gun into corners and darkness.
“I’m out,” he snaps, pulling himself behind me to reload. My feet push both of us over to a long metal table, more shots firing from my gun as my other hand throws the fucking thing over to give us some cover. “Cunts,” I shout as he ducks in and finally starts aiming his gun again.
Both of us drop at the goddamn rally of shots delivered at the table’s surface. They come with such force that the table ricochets on our knees, bouncing from the impact. My eyes close as we wait for them to ease a few seconds, old feelings reminding me of those errant streets I grew up on.
“Fuck you, Quinn.” He chuckles, which makes me laugh, too, and shake my head as I open my eyes again. “You’re a dick.” He watches me reload, a smile on his goddamn face.
“Love you, too, by the way.” The fuck? I stare at him, trying to glower and failing. The man is insane. “How many left?” he asks, easing his head out to the side a little. More shots come at the same time, causing his head to whip back from the action.
