A burst of gunfire from an upper window pinpointed the assassin.
Sprinting across the alleyway, guns blazing in both hands, Vicious dived behind the shelter of a dumpster, fresh round gripped between his teeth. Blood was streaking his cheek as he reloaded.
"You should move faster," Spike called from two dumpsters further along.
"Did it in slow-motion so you could see how it was done," Vicious yelled back, leaning out from his shelter to fire up at the window.
Spike rose like a demon from the ground to fire at the same window, then ducked back down as Vicious did. Slamming another clip into his gun, Vicious looked up with a curse as a fresh round of gunfire rattled from the window.
"You know what I hate?"
Spike peered around the edge of the dumpster. "People who are too fucking chicken to show their faces?"
"You got it," Vicious reached into his pocket. "Hey, Spike?"
"Yeah?"
"Catch!"
The dark-haired man looked up, reaching out in time to snatch the grenade out of the air, only to swear aloud and lob it up towards the window.
It bounced, teetering on the edge of the sill, then fell into the building.
"You fucking ass!" Spike yelled, pulling his coat over his head a split-second before the rest of the windows on the level of the building blasted out a mushrooming swell of flame.
Dusting himself down, as debris continued to rain around them, Vicious got to his feet. "What are you pissing your pants about now, Spike?"
"You could have said the fucking pin was out!"
Laughing, Vicious wiped the blood off his cheek. "Yeah, but what's the fun of that?" he asked. A rueful grin crossed Spike's face. Vicious nodded across the street. "We got a bar waiting for us."
"Not your girl? It is Valentine's Day, Romeo."
Vicious glanced at him. "You want me to shoot you, don't you?" he said, half-smiling. "Come on, Spike. You're buying."