The smell of cordite and cheap cigarettes hung heavy in the air. The sharp iron tang of blood punctuated the white noise of smoke. Blood seeped slowly from my shoulder, and other parts. Phill lay on the floor a few feet away. I could see that he was still breathing.
How many had we taken out? I hadn’t been counting but we definitely made a good showing. High score. Enter your name.
What the fuck had we even done to these guys? It was just an average weekend. Maybe a little wild. We don’t always end up at the casino, but hey, it was Friday night. I remember the tables, I remember the snooty valet. Why don’t I remember how things went bad? We tried to get a cab. Did Phill bump into someone? Did I make a pass at someone’s wife?
The pain rang in my ears like a shrill shriek. Does it even matter? They want to kill us. I would like not to be dead. Does anything else really enter into that equation?
I hear footsteps. Someone is approaching the door. I look at Phill. He’s already stirring. I don’t know how bad he’s hurt but it doesn’t look good. As he wrests himself to a sitting position I almost think I see him stuff something under his arm. He’s taken at least as many hits as I have though, no way he’s pulling a fast one.
The footsteps draw nearer. A voice calls out from over the busted window sill.
“Are you still alive? Is there anyone there worth talking to?”
I spit the blood out of my mouth and call back.
“Depends on what you consider worth it. You charge by the hour?”
A volley of bullets hits the wall, followed by an angry shout.
“Nyet! If I wanted them dead I’d walk in there and do it myself. I want to hear what they have to say.”
“What we have to say?” Phill coughs up a bloody mess as he shouts back. “We say fuck you, how ‘bout that!”
He spits out another bloody wad and I give him a grin.
“Nice to see you’re still there.”
“We’ve done stupider shit than this. We’re alright. If we survive this, Caitlin is gonna kill me for sure though.”
“Can she really do worse than this?” I ask, peeking over the ledge. “These are reeaaaalllly bad odds. Like I would not bet on us at all.”
“I dunno, she just bought me this shirt. And what do you mean? Don’t you remember that time in Toronto?”
“Are you talking about… this is completely different! I really don’t think these dudes want us to join their cult!”
“Are you done with the bantering? Are you ready to give us what we want?” The shouted instructions are tense and angry. They echo in my ears.
“Give you what you want? I dunno what you want. Phill, do you know what he wants?”
Phill laughs and shouts back “I don’t know what he wants. I don’t even know what we want, besides walking out of here alive of course.” I chuckle to myself. If we’re going out, we’re doing it on our terms, not theirs.
Another volley of bullets hits the building. A shouted command stops them.
“We’re going to get you, one way or the other!” What is his accent? Did we piss off some ethnic mob?
“I’ll take the other!” Phill shouts, and fires a burst. I hear his bolt click. It was evidently his last. I look at my .45s, slides locked back. Phills MP5 clatters as he tosses it away. “What do you say?”
An angry pause is broken by a cough and an angrier growl.
“I say I’m getting tired of this. Иван бросай гранаты!”
A blast shakes the building. The walls tremble and plaster falls from the ceiling. It feels like an earthquake.
I peer over the broken window frame, trying to get a good look at what’s coming. The smoke and dust clog the air. I see nothing.
The sound of jackboots fills the air, shouted orders, silently obeyed. The door crashes in.
Boots swarm the room. Phill and I slouch against the wall and look at each other. It was a Friday night, we knew things would get weird but this was new even for us.
A figure steps into the room, tall, dark, in a black suit and wearing dark sunglasses.
“You’ve really made a nuisance of yourselves, you know that?” He produces a pack of cigarettes, and places one between his lips. Long fingers brandish a steel lighter and light the suspended cigarette.
“I’m going to look forward to this.” The armed goons around him take aim and I can feel the heat of a dozen laser sights burning into me.
“I’ve got something you can look forward to!” Phill pulls a grenade from under him. “How about a nice afterlife?” As he yanks the pin I can’t help but laugh. What a way to spend a Friday night.
The blast shakes the building. I hear the girders shudder and give. The subsequent collapse makes identifying bodies difficult, even by dental records.