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“Keep your fuckin’ head down!” Lowrider yelled. “I ain’t telling my wife her brother got his brains blown out!”
“Those fuckers are just spraying the area. We’re pinned down,” Ezra retorted.
“Well, they’ll run out of bullets sooner or later,” Lowrider replied. Ezra sent him a disbelieving glance, aimed the gun over his head, and fired. There was a startled cry, and Ezra popped his head up and took a second shot, taking the third man down.
“One left; he’s all yours. I’m having a nap,” Ezra informed Lowrider, who glowered.
“Who the fuck sleeps in the middle of a firefight?” Lowrider demanded, appalled.
“I do. Now shut up,” Ezra snapped and closed his eyes.
“Incoming Lowrider,” Blaze said. Lowrider peeked and watched for signs of Blaze. The fourth guy staggered forward moments later, and Lowrider rose to his feet. The man was staggering and trying to hold his throat together.
“Oh, nice. Apache, Blaze slit a throat,” Lowrider informed his brother.
“Smartass,” Apache complained.
“Blaze, watch our position while I get Ezra to Klutz,” Lowrider said.
“How about I take him to Klutz, and you stay in place? All you want is more action,” Blaze retorted, grabbing Ezra and marching him off before Lowrider could reply.
Lowrider shook his head. These younger brothers were becoming mouthy fuckers. Where was the respect?
Drake
The six entering immediately sought hiding positions. They waited in place, as did Drake, Fish, and Lex.
“The ten outside have been joined by six more. They’re coming. Team Calamity, fire when ready,” Mac said.
“This is fuckin’ ridiculous. Have many men have they lost today?” Drake questioned as he listened to reports of the wall intruders being dead and one unconscious. Whoever’s idea that was had been a good one to capture one alive.
“Fuck knows, but there must be one hundred Fangs dead. Fury’s willing to throw away life needlessly,” Fish said, stunned.
“Fury never seemed to respect shit,” Lex agreed.
“But to waste guys like this? He either is insane and doesn’t give a shit, or he’s got a lot more men than we know of, which worries me,” Drake muttered.
“Six more Fangs just arrived. They’re storming the gates. Need support at the front,” Calamity’s voice said, and Lex, Fish, and Drake straightened and got ready. There were now twenty-two Venomous Fangs inside Rage’s grounds.
“Prospects, take your pick, Calamity’s team fire,” Drake ordered. With a nod at Fish and Lex, Drake popped up alongside them and fired just as Calamity’s group opened fire from the wall. Men fell, and others ducked for cover. There wasn’t much, but the assholes managed to find some.
Drake quickly counted six bodies on the ground, two moving. Drake aimed as one lifted his head and took his shot, leaving one body still moving. It hit Drake suddenly. How amusing this was. A vindictive firefight, yet there was no sound. The Fangs were also using silencers. Clearly, the plan had been to take over Rage without attracting attention and the cops finding out.
They exchanged shots back and forth, and Apache grunted as a stray bullet grazed his head. Jett let out a startled howl, and Drake guessed he’d been hit.
“How bad?” Drake demanded.
“His leg, fucking bullet ricocheted. Tying a tourniquet,” Slate responded calmly.
“Jett bleeding out?” Klutz inquired.
“Not now, he ain’t,” Slate confirmed.
“Get him to me asap,” Klutz ordered.
“Will do,” Slate agreed.
“How many left?” Lex asked.
