"Please! Please don't kill me!"
Snickering, you strut over to the crying man lying on the floor beneath you as you pull out your favorite Firestorm pistols that were idly hooked to your black belt. Grabbing him by the shirt of his collar, you pull him up to meet his frightened gaze.
"You hurt my friends, I hurt you." And without another word, a gunshot was fired as it echoed throughout the night sky, the blood of the man shining in the moonlight.
Dropping the dead man and turning to your fellow gang members, you nodded toward the end of the alleyway where a purple sports car skidded to a halt just inches away from you and your crew. You open the door and slide in to the passenger seat and glare at the driver as you slam the door.
"Took you long enough, Pierce."
"Hey, I told you that whenever you do hit-man missions, I want to be there when the job is already done. You know how I feel about dead people."
His protest causes you to laugh. "You asshole for a partner!"
"Just doing my job."
The sound of a phone ringing causes your laughter to cease and you pull your phone from your pocket, looking at the caller ID. Unknown. Of course. Sighing irritably, you thrust the phone up to your ear.
"Talk to me."
"Aileen. It's Shaundi."
"What's up?"
"Well, we have a problem. You need to see this. Get back to the hideout as soon as possible."
"Got it."
Snapping the phone shut, Pierce steps on the gas pedal and the car flies down the street toward your gang's hideout. Looking out the window, you rest your head on your arm, forgetting about the gun resting in your lap.
"So what's happened now?"
"I dunno, Pierce. We just have to wait and see."
As the car pulled onto the high way toward your gang's hideout, you already knew something was wrong. There was a huge cloud of black smoke in the air coming from the exact direction of your hideout. And it didn't help that you saw the Syndicate's cars heading the opposite way on the high way. Opening the sunroof to the car, you stick your head out and watch in horror as your hideout was the building that had gone up in flames. You were sure it was the Syndicate.
Stepping onto the soil that used to be where your hideout stood, you could only bend and rub a pinch of ash between your thumb and forefinger as everyone else stood motionless behind you.
Standing and cocking your gun, you raised it up by your face and glared past the other gang members and to the highway, where you saw more Syndicate cars speeding away.
"Oh, you sons of bitches."