The trip didn't take too long as David entered Little Cuba, and looked around the street names that Randy mentioned right by the hair salon. In fact it was more difficult to figure out which one, due to some being next to each other. Personally, he didn't see a point to someone opening a hair salon, next to another hair salon.
Madison and Chestnut Drive…just got to make this turn; David mused as he made the turn and looked around. He had 'The Breaks' by Kurtis Blow playing on the stereo, as he saw Randy's Feltzer parked in a handicap spot.
"Typical fucking Randy," David scoffed at where his older brother parked, as he parked his car in a vacant spot close by the store. He kept the engine running, as he reloaded his gun followed with putting it in his pocket, and got out. He figured that it wouldn't take so long, as he looked at the salon. The blinds were shut, preventing anyone from looking at what was going on. Even the door had covered blinds. He tried to slowly turn the knob, only to find out that it was locked. Not taking any chances, he pulled out his Beretta, and knocked on the door.
"We're closed! Go away!"
"Bro, it's me! Open up!" David said raising his voice and knocked on the door again.
In a few seconds, the door was opened and Randy quickly pulled David in, followed by closing the door, and locking it. Randy had on a plan black shirt, with matching jeans, including a pair of faded blue sneakers. He was carrying a Mac-11 submachine gun with a silencer attached in one hand, and a snub nosed revolver in the other hand. He had a small bruise on his cheek, and a pissed off look on his face.
"Everything alright?" David wondered, staring at the small bruise on his brother's face.
"Oh, yeah. Everything is all peachy." Randy said in sarcasm. He started to pace back and forth like a madman. "Just trying to squeeze a bit of information out of these two and this fruit cake here, sucker punches me!" Randy shouted as he pointed at the guy whimpering on the floor.
He was an effeminate male in his early thirties, with long platinum blonde hair tied in a bun, dressed in a hot pink polo shirt, with powder blue short shorts, and a bullet wound in his thigh. He eyes were streaming with hot, fresh tears, as he stared at David, crying in fear.
"Is this is the guy that hit you?" David arched an eyebrow. Randy looked at his brother and slowly nodded in embarrassment. "You got a bruise on your cheek, from a gay guy?"
"Yeah, so what?!" Randy shouted, while David chuckled. "He wanted to be bold, and look what he got?" Randy pointed the Mac-11 at the man. "He's lucky I need him and the girl."
"What girl?" David asked as he turned and saw one sitting by the chair trembling like a leaf. As he walked up closer to her, his eyes widened. "Well, well, well…we meet again."
"Oh, shit." Melissa uttered under her breath.
"You know this bitch?" Randy said in amazement.
"Remember when you had me tail that snitch that tore the club up, and had you put in the hospital?"
"Yeah...why?"
David smirked. "Meet the dead snitches girlfriend. Melissa."
"Oh, is that right," Randy said grinning from ear to ear as he raised her gun, pointing at her. "Hola, puta."
"Look, please, don't kill me." Melissa said sniffling. She had on a yellow crop top, with matching pumps, tight denim jeans that were hugging her body. She had a tattoo on her forearm, of a cross and a rosary and under it the name, Marco was there in remembrance of her dead boyfriend. Her makeup was running as she bit her bottom lip, getting a bit of pink lipstick on her teeth. "I'll do whatever you want!"
"You know who I'm looking for; Luis. Where is he? I already know he lives around here in Little Cuba. Where exactly in this neighborhood? And don't lie." Randy said aiming the gun at her bare stomach.
"I can't do that!" Melissa protested. "He'll kill me if I told you!"
"I'll kill you if you don't." Randy said his voice dropping to a grim tone. "And as beautiful as you are…it would be such a fucking waste to ruin those looks."
"Leave her alone, you bully!" The wounded gay man cried out.
"Shut it!" David shouted, walking over to the guy and stomping him in his thigh where the wound was. "Answer the question Melissa. Don't make him kill you."
"I can't! Please…I'll do anything you guys want!" Melissa said panicking. Tears were running down her face even more as she tried to figure out what to do as well say.
"Man, fuck this…" Randy muttered as he raised the gun at her head.
"Wait, wait!" David shouted. "Let's hear what she has to say. Ok, Melissa. What are you going to do for us huh? Humor us."
"I'll…I'll do anything you want me to," Melissa said, wiping her eyes, causing the make up to worsen, making her look like a Latina raccoon, as she looked at them. "I'll suck both your cocks. I'll even swallow if you like."
Randy stared at her in amazement, and bewildered. "Are you serious? You'll blow me and my brother here?"
Melissa quickly nodded, followed by licking her lips slowly.
"Really? No shit?"
Melissa shook her head no as Randy stared at her.
Randy turned his head looking at David. "What do you think?"
"I don't know," David said unsure about the offer of oral sex. He kneeled down, and looked at the gay guy as he cried out in pain. "Can she really suck dick? I mean, does she have skill?" He then laughed. "I'm sorry; I forgot who I was talking to. You probably taught the bitch how." He then got up and grabbed a heavy looking phone book. "I say we kill this bitch, and get it over with. If she isn't going to say anything, what's the point in keeping her alive?" David first grabbed the revolver, then stood over Melissa. "Stand the fuck up."
Melissa was then pissing on herself out of fear as she struggled to get up. Her legs were shaking and feeling like there were strapped on with fifty pound lead weights as urine leaked from her shorts and, on the floor. "Listen, let me explain."
"I already know the street he lives on, so you can tell me on which house he's in, cause I don't feel like knocking on ever door till I find him." David said staring hard at her.
"But I,"
"But nothing!" David shouted and he slapped her followed with a backhand, causing her to shriek. "You can either explain Luis's exact whereabouts, or explain it with your lips wrapped around the barrel of this pistol, and join your fucking boyfriend in the afterlife. Your choice."
"Alright! Alright!" Melissa sobbed, as she started to confess. "It's a large yellow house. His address is 4232. It's the one with the very large pool, and gate."
"Those large ritzy looking houses?" Randy said as he looked at him. "I should've known. Is he there now?"
"Yes. He's there. A lot of them are." Melissa sniffled.
"Good…we can take them all out." Randy said smiling. "This is really good. We got everything we needed." With that said, he aimed his gun, and shot at the gay hairdresser in his head, killing him instantly as chunks of brain and bone splattered against the mirror and counter. Melissa shrieked. "That's for punching me earlier you fucker!" He yelled before plugging five more rounds into the dead body's chest. When he was finished, he turned to David and pointed at her. "David, do her a favor."
"No problem." David said grabbing a phonebook and pressing it against her chest. Melissa's body was trembling as he then pressed the snub nose pistol against it.
"Wait, wait, wait!" Melissa yelled as she started to cry. "I told you where he was! Can't you let me go!?"
"I could. I would. I should. I won't." David said showing a cold, heartless glare towards her, putting thing simple. He pulled back the hammer on the revolver, and heard it clicked as he looked into her tear stricken hazel eyes. "Say goodnight."
Melissa shook even harder, sobbing, as she shut her eyes.
BANG!
Several seconds passed. Melissa opened her eyes slowly looking around scared. David looked dumbfounded and confused, while Randy arched an eyebrow and walked over to David wondering what was going on.
"How in the fuck," David muttered. He handed the revolver back to his brother, and checked the phonebook.
The phonebook had hole the size of a nickel, however it didn't exit out of the book. Flipping through the pages he saw the slug stopped at the near end of the book. The flattened .38 bullet was still warm in David's hand, as he showed Randy the book.
"It didn't go through?" Randy said sounding surprised.
David shook his head. "It stopped at the S's." He laughed a little bit as he looked at Melissa, murmuring a prayer in Spanish. "Looks like you got lucky again. You snitch to anyone, or tell Luis that we're coming, and we'll continue where we left from this phonebook.
Randy grinned. "I got an even better idea." He then, grabbed a small sheet of paper, and jotted down an address. "You're going to be working for me."
"What?"
"Hey, it's either that, or I kill you like I did with your friend. You got options sweetheart; something I rarely ever give." Randy said as he finished writing it down, and handed it to her. "You wanna work?"
Several seconds passed as she stared at both brothers and came to a decision. "Fine, I'll work for you."
"Good. Head down there right now, and ask for Cathy. She'll get you situated. Soon as she's done talking to you, make me some money, got it?"
"Yes." Melissa nodded.
"Good. Wash your face and get yourself cleaned up, before you see her today." Randy said before started walking towards the door and unlocked it. "Come on bro, we got things to do."
"Right," David said as he walked towards the open door. As the two walked towards the Sentinel, he turned to look at his brother, while getting inside. "So, how are we going to take on a bunch of Cuban Cartel thugs? Let alone in nice house that Luis stays in?"
"I got some supplies to get the job done." Randy smiled as he got in, and buckled his seatbelt.
"Unless, we're rolling up in a Rhino tank, or a Buzzard attack chopper, we won't stand a chance. Matter of fact, we need to call up Alan and Brett for this type of job." David said as he then saw Melissa exit out of the store and quickly hail a cab. "Besides, who's to say she won't run towards Luis?"
"She won't." Randy shrugged.
"You know something I don't know?"
"The look on her face was a dead giveaway. But never mind that. You know where it is right?" Randy said as David started driving.
"What's over there?" David said sounding curious.
"You'll see." Randy grinned, reclining the seat, and turned on the radio. 'Fuck Wit Dre Day' started to play loud in the car, as David started to drive down the street. "Hey, David, I was meaning to ask you this before I got in. The fuck happened to your car?"
"Long story,"
"Well shit, we got time."
The drive was only for a few minutes as David explained what happened. While he was talking, he felt his phone vibrate. Stopping at a red light, David checked his phone. It was Lilly who sent him a text message.
Hey there. Hoping you're having a good day. I went to the grocery store to get something to make to eat. You have nothing in this fridge! What do you eat here?! I'm going to make you a home-cooked meal when you get home, so no eating fast food today. Be safe out there!
"Right behind that office building," Randy said as he brought his seat up and pointed. As David turned, his eyes widened as he saw it.
It was an old beat up, white 2001 Rumpo van. There were several scratches on the sides, including a cracked side window. The other one was completely missing.
"Brings back memories doesn't it?" Randy grinned.
It brought David a shit ton of memories. It was the van that his brother used to rob a bank back when David was only a whiny teenager. David was the replacement driver, and terrified so much of them being caught. It was also the same day he learned how to drive. Call it blind luck, or natural born talent, his driving skills put into any vehicle were so top notch, not only did they get away from the local police and SWAT teams, but no one was injured in the process; Randy's crew, or any civilian.
"Yeah. Too many damn memories." David muttered. He parked the car next to the van, and shut off the engine. "I thought you got rid of this damn thing."
"I had it in storage for a while. For when I really needed it," Randy said as he got out of the car. "Right now is one of those times."
"Well fine, but what about weapons? Between your Uzi and revolver, and my Beretta, we won't even put a dent in the force he has there." David said as he started to worry a bit.
"Don't worry about that," Randy smile got even bigger, as he walked towards the back of the van, and went for his keys. "I left some cannons in the trunk."
"Cannons?" David said raising his eyebrow curiously. He got out of the car, shutting the door, and activating the alarm. The Sentinel chirped, as he followed his brother, who was grinning like a total goofball. "Define the word 'cannons'."
"I gladly will," Randy said as he opened the doors. "Voila."
Inside the van were several racks of pistols, grenades, assault rifles, and even a few shotguns. There was one recognizable one standing on a rack by its self with two small boxes of shotgun shells. One box had white piece of tape, with the words '12-Gauge flechette', while the other one had a dark red piece of tape, with the words, '12-Gauge Fragmentation'. The shotgun was an AA-12 automatic painted in black with a laser sight, flashlight, and a foregrip attached to it.
Randy noticed that David was staring at the weapon and smiled. "You like?"
David picked the weapon and loaded it with flechette rounds. When he was finished, he looked at his brother and smirked. "Yeah. I like."
David grabbed a Kevlar vest, a bandolier and added shells to it. He then grabbed several pistol holsters, and placed his Beretta in one, a Glock 17 in another, a Colt Delta Elite, and a forty-four caliber Automag in a leg holster. The pistols felt a bit heavy but he could deal with it. He next grabbed a six inch hunting knife that was secured in a leather holster, and strapped it to his other leg. When he was done he grabbed two ceramic plates and inserted them inside the vest.
"Here take this," Randy said giving him an earpiece, and put one in his ear himself. "We'll be able to communicate should we get separated."
"Pretty sophiscated shit here Randy," David said examining the earpiece.
"You already know," Randy chuckled as he went and placed a vest on himself and inserted plating inside it. "Courtesy of the F.I.B."
"Damn." David commented as he grabbed a Mac-10. The submachine gun, had a suppressor screwed on to the barrel, along with a laser sight taped onto the side of the gun. The weapon was loaded with armor piercers, as David saw the red tape on the magazine. He leaned over, grabbing two more magazines.
Randy, set the weapons he had on him down, and grabbed an HK MP5K and a clip containing nine millimeter hollow point rounds, followed with several clips for it. When he was finished, he grabbed an M4 Carbine, a silencer, a reflex sight, and a hundred round magazine. As he began to attach everything to the weapon, he caught David looking at him. "What?"
"A Beta C-Mag? You think that's enough?" David said laughing as he was finished gearing up.
"We're about to declare war on the entire fucking Cuban Cartel, and charge into their stronghold. You can never have enough." Randy said sounding overconfident.
"I'll remember that, when you're ass in a sling," David replied as he exited out of the van.
"Not if I pull you out of the fire first." Randy said pulling out a SPAS-12 shotgun and began loading it with lime green colored shells. "I've been waiting to try these out for so damn long!"
"What are those?" David asked looking at the shells he was adding and glancing at the nameless box.
"P.G. Shells," Randy said as he loaded the last one, and grabbed a bandolier. "Another name for these is powder glass shells. Take some glass and grind it down to a fine powder. Anyone to get hit with these, their day is going to be so ruined."
"I take it if they aren't wearing body armor, it'll rip into their clothes?"
"Their clothes, their skin, the meat on their bodies, all the way to the fucking bone," Randy flashed a malevolent grin.
"Jesus," David said softly under his breath.
When Randy was finished loading the bandolier, he stepped out of the van. The two brothers were armed to the teeth, and ready to deliver absolute death. To anyone they would probably pass off as a pair of mercenaries, but they knew what needed to be done. Kill Luis, wipe the Cuban Cartel off the face of the city, and make sure they survived to tell the tale.
"Are you sure we don't need Bolo or Alan on this to help?" David wondered as he got in the passenger side of the van.
The older DePalma brother looked at him as he closed the rear doors. "I already told you; we don't need them for this. I need my brother on this; not Bolo, not Alan, and especially not that crazy bitch, Olivia."
"Hey, why not? She would be a great help with what we're about to do."
"David," Randy turned and got right into his brother's face. "There's going to be enough explosions to make Fourth of July look like an ordinary day. Need I remind you about her getting off at the sight of an explosion? She probably gets wet, if you lit a couple of firecrackers and tossed them close by her feet, so forget it! I don't need her having some earth shaking orgasm, followed by screams and passing out in pure bliss when she blows the entire place up."
"Fine," David said shrugging. "Then let's get a move on, and kill this fucker before dinner. Mom is making ravioli."
"That's the spirit!" Randy said excitedly. When he got in, he quickly closed the door, followed by turning on the radio and switching it to the rock station. 'Bark at The Moon' was starting and Randy grinned even more, as he started to turn the volume up to the max. "Perfect music for the perfect moment, don't you think?"
"Yeah! " David yelled through the music and rolled down the window with excitement.
Randy pulled away from the parking spot and drove off into the main street. Several people were looking at them. A few in disgust, some in confusion, some looking really annoyed. As they pulled to a stoplight, one person chucked a beer bottle at the side of the van.
"Hey, asshole! Turn that music off! Fucking white trash!"
Randy didn't bother looking at him. "David, set an example."
"Way ahead of you," David said pulling out the Glock and emptying several shots at the curb. None of the bullets ricocheted or, made any flesh contact, but it did scare the hell of the guy that threw the bottle, as several people ran away screaming, with him the loudest and more high pitched than anyone else.
"Thanks." Randy said while the light turned green, and started to drive.
"Anytime," David said as he rested his eyes, getting himself ready for the war they were flinging themselves into. Taking a deep breath, he shifted his body letting the slightly warm, gentle, wind hit his face. Alright David, it's almost time…can't be nervous. Then again, what am I nervous about? I got my brother on this. We're fully equipped, psyched up and ready to take on damn near a hundred plus thugs wearing yellow throwing up gang signs for the Cuban Cartel. Heh, a hundred to two….I love the odds.
David felt the van stop, including lowering the music down. His eyes quickly flung up. "What's going on?"
"We're half a block away," Randy said as he leaned forward, grabbing binoculars and looked. "I spot three. They aren't heavily armed. My guess is pistols."
"So, we ram the van straight into the gate?" David asked as he straightened himself up.
"Nah, I got a better idea." Randy said coyly. Getting out of the van, he went into the back of the vehicle, and opened the back doors. Chuckling softly, he pulled out a Barret M82 anti-material sniper rifle. Pulling out a large looking clip, he showed it to his brother. "Explosive tipped rounds. More bang for your buck, and worth every dollar."
"Damn," David whispered as he then saw another large clip but with powder blue tape. "What are those, hollow tipped?"
"Better," Randy grinned. "Mercury-cored rounds."
"Mercury!?" David said looking shocked.
"Brought to you by Zaibatsu Industries," Randy grinned. "If the bullet doesn't kill them, the heavy dose of mercury poisoning will." Randy grinned even more, cocking the weapon.
"Hope you have fun with it." David said as he turned off the music.
"You know I will. Ok, here's the plan. I'm going to need you to get to the front gate, while I pick off anyone that tries to come near you."
"You have any explosives?" David asked.
"Here," Randy tossed a bag at his brother, which made his brother examine what was inside. There were seven bricks of C4 and one detonator.
"Seven?" David wondered looking at his brother. "This is fucking overkill."
"Yeah…great isn't it?"
David couldn't help but laugh. "Then what?"
"Rip these motherfuckers a new one. Leave no one alive. I mean it! Don't let any feelings get in the way. Matter of fact, the only feeling you should is pure fucking hate for what they have put us through. Got it"
"Yeah, I get it." David said while zipping up the bag and getting out of the van. "Here goes nothing," David whispered to himself. As he started approaching the gate, he saw two of them.
The first gangster was dressed in black cargo pants, black boots, and a tucked in yellow t-shirt. He was smoking a cigarette and mumbled something in Spanish. He then saw a figure approaching the gate, and fumbled around, getting ready as he cocked his Mac-11.
David saw how he moved and nodded to himself. This is going to be easy, He thought as he got towards the iron gate.
"What do you want?" The other guard asked while he opened the gate. His voice squeaked as his hands were slightly shaking. He was the same complexion as David, as well as height. He had a checkered yellow and black shirt, black chinos, a yellow/black paisley bandana tied stuck out his pocket, and a yellow and black baseball cap showing the Daytona City Marksmen baseball team on it tilted to the side. He began twirling a Ruger Super Redhawk .44 magnum revolver with his index finger clumsily, as he glared at David, trying to size him up.
"For you to die." David simply put as he quickly brought up the automatic shotgun, and tapped the trigger. Hot metal shards entered into the thug's face, shredding it into strips of meat, destroying cartilage, and bone. Before the other one could do anything, David pulled the trigger again. The deafening rapid boom, tore into his shirt, ripped into his body and decimated his organs, turning them into a bloody mush. "Nothing personal fellas," David said in a monotone manner.
"The fuck was that?"
"Check by the gate!"
David was ready as he raised his weapon at the two and pulled the trigger once more. Their screams echoed outside, as several more started coming out of the woodwork. "Fuck. I could use some help Randy." He said as he got behind a large marble pillar.
As if reading his mind, Randy stood on top of the van and aimed. "I got your back." He said, taking a knee and, aimed his sights at the Cuban Cartel thug that was running ahead of the small group. Sneering, he inhaled sharply and pulled the trigger hard.
BANG!
An explosive tipped, fifty-caliber round flew out and hit the thug in the head. The sickening wet pop startled everyone as the body flopped towards the asphalt, spilling blood and organs on the ground.
"What the hell is goin' on!?" One thug yelled, snatching his sunglasses off to get a better look, as he looked around panicking. As he turned around to look at his crew, another bullet rang out, blowing off his arm completely off. His eyes went completely wide as he hollered like a woman who lost her virginity. Blood squirted from the round on his shirt, his cargo pants and his face. The only thing he saw was his hand, now a mangled, twisted, bloody stump, holding a broken and bloodied Tec-9. "Somebody fuckin' help me!" He cried as he went into his pocket to grab his bandanna, but was too slow as the pellets from the twelve gauge tore open his neck and face.
They all scattered. One tried to run, but had her back embedded with flectchettes. Blood spurted from the female's nose and mouth, as she dropped to the floor dead. Another one was injured in his leg as he cried in pain for a short moment before his head exploded from Randy's sniper rifle. The man's head exploded like a rotten watermelon.
As the auto shotgun in David's hand went dry, he quickly ejected the clip and inserted a twenty round drum magazine of fragmentation rounds. "Come and get it! Come and fucking get it!" David shouted as he unleashed several blasts from the weapon. The loud banging noise from David's weapon was loud enough to wake the dead, as a few Cuban Cartel thugs met their maker. Arms, limbs, blood, and guts were sprayed everywhere, as some of them yelled. A female gangster dressed with a yellow cut off tank top, showing off her washboard abs and tattoo of a butterfly. She had on black skinny jeans and white running shoes, and carrying a Mini-Uzi. She screamed as left foot was completely blown off from the knee. Shouting bloody murder, she dropped to the ground, screaming and cussing, only to be shut up with a bullet from Randy's sniper rifle. The fifty caliber round drove in between her 38D chest, twisting into her right lung and sever her spine in half as it exited out of her dead body.
One thug, who was dark skinned and had his hair tied back in a ponytail, shirtless exposing, several tattoos, claiming he was down with the Cuban Cartel, with the largest one being 'CC' tattooed in script across his stomach. He had on a pair of black cargo shorts and yellow/black striped Aris running shoes. Brandishing a Beretta PM 12S submachine gun, he fired at the hip, spraying and praying that he hit him.
"Die motherfucker!"
Only one round, hit David in the stomach, but the vest prevented any penetration. In retaliation, David sent the tattooed thug to the afterlife, by firing off three shots, destroying the tattoo on his stomach and his intestines. The thug fell, twitching for several seconds before he ceased to exist.
Back outside, Randy was mentally keeping score as he glanced at another one trying to sneak up on David. The thug crept on him holding a Ka-Bar knife in his hand. "Oh, no you don't"," he uttered as he took aim, and squeezed the trigger. The thug didn't even know what him, as the bullet entered his brain, and exploded outward with tremendous force, spilling chunks of brain and bone. He saw that David didn't even realize what had happened behind him, and laughed softly. "You owe me for that one little brother."
David continued pouring it on, as more, and more thugs were exposing their innards and blood in the warm afternoon sun. He gritted his teeth, and fired at one trying to escape in a black, 2008 Habenaro. "Oh really?" David said out loud. He pulled the trigger sending explosive devastation towards the man. One shirtless thug who had a yellow bandanna covering his face, didn't have time to react as his stomach was opened up, followed by his chest, and last but not least, his hand exploding into hamburger.
Soon as Randy shot the last one that was hiding miserably behind a black 1986 Phoenix moped in the head as it was exposed through the tinted window. Glass shattered, and the female thug's brains exited out of her skull, along with pieces of bone, chunks of her brain, and jewelry flew across the ground. He picked up the rifle including the rest of his weapons, and started to jog towards the gate. "That can't be all of them!" he shouted as he got up to his brother.
"I bet you their all inside, waiting for us." David said checking the automatic shotgun. He was empty. Swearing under his breath, he dropped it and pulled out the Mac-10, cocking the weapon.
"Then let's not keep Luis and his flunkies waiting," Randy sneered. Reaching into his bag, he pulled out the SPAS-12 shotgun, and pumped it once. "Let's do this."
"Right behind you," David nodded, sounding determined. "You think Luis heard the noise?"
"The entire south side of the city heard it! Knowing Luis, he's probably pissing in his pants." Randy chuckled as the two brothers started walking towards the large doors. "Place a C4 brick on the door."
Inside Luis's bedroom, he was staring at the security cameras wide eyed and bloodshot red. The tip of his nose and his nostrils were red from the cocaine he was snorting the other night and early in the morning. He was dreading the day this would happen. He was thankful that he had everyone in the mansion, but he wondered for a while was it enough. He then flinched as he saw David shot at the camera, giving him nothing but static. He was now even more worried, as he then grabbed a glass of Cristal and chugged it down, followed by snorting a line of cocaine.
"Papi, what's going on?" A light-skinned Latina hooker said as she adjusted the hot pink skirt, followed up by putting on a banana yellow thong.
Luis paused for a moment and looked at her, with white power on his nose and lips. He cleared his throat as he approached to her. "It's nothing baby. Why are you putting your clothes on? Get back in to bed and on this…"
Before he could finish, the mansion vibrated a bit thanks to the C4 blowing a hole on the front door. Luis fell down and looked in horror.
"The fuck was that!?" The hooker shouted in fright.
Luis ignored her, knowing good and damn well what was going on. They were coming for him.
"Christ, that was loud!" Randy shouted, almost going deaf.
"It's plastic explosives! Of course it's going to be loud!" David screamed, wishing to himself he wasn't so close to the blast as the ringing in his ears were going off like church bells.
"They blew up the door! Get those shitheads!" One of the thugs shouted before he was cut down by submachine gun fire thanks to David.
"Come on, let's walk on in." David said jogging inside, and finding cover behind a large marble dresser.
"Right," Randy said as he spotted one and brought up his shotgun. He saw the terrified glare in the gangster's face as he tried to turn, only to catch a hail of powdered glass from the twelve gauge shell. Just as Randy had predicted, the weapon shredded the thug's face, into mush as he dropped to the floor, spilling blood and brain matter all over the steps. "GODDAMN! YOU SAW THAT!?" Randy shouted in giddiness.
David saw it, and couldn't believe how damaging it was. He felt pretty bad for the guy…for a second. "Where do you think he is?" He wondered, shooting at one hiding behind a flipped table, only to graze him in the shoulder. He emptied the entire clip at the table, watching the fine mahogany break into pieces as the guy cried out and fell on the ground not moving.
Randy had fired another blast from his shotgun, maiming one as it struck him in the back, crippling the thug, as he stumbled onto a red and yellow striped vase that was standing on a small platform. "Come on out Luis! I don't have all fucking day for this! I mean, I do,but you have to come out buddy!" he yelled as he watched the thug he injured earlier, and shot him again but at the back of his head at point-blank range, spraying blood, bone, and brain matter across the hallway floor. He then noticed one of them yelling in what was an attempt of a battle cry. Grinning from ear to ear, he brought up his gun and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. His cocky attitude, changed in an instant as he quickly dropped the shotgun, and reached for his MP5.
The yellowed t-shirted thug was scrawny-looking, but tall. The Ruger GP100 revolver looked heavy in the man's small, shivering hands. "Don't move asshole! I got you now!"
"You sure about that?" David simply asked, as he stood there, holding the Colt Delta Elite in one hand, and the Glock in the other. Before the thug could even blink, David pointed both guns at him, and pulled the trigger once for both guns. The nine millimeter bullet ripped the index finger off, causing him to drop the revolver, while the ten millimeter bullet drilled right into abdomen. Blood gushed out, as David watched the guy fall to the ground, grabbing himself in pain. Walking over to him, he grabbed the goon by the collar of his blood stained, gold polo shirt and glared at him. "Where's Luis? Tell me the truth, I'll end your pain real quick. Lie and you die. Real slow."
"I don't know nothing man!" The man yelled.
David looked at him and simply put a bullet in the man's thigh, causing the thug to yelp in pain. "Wrong answer. Now…where is Luis?"
"Fuck you!"
David shook his head and grabbed the guy's hand and in one motion, broke three of the thug's fingers, causing the guy to scream in pain. "You gonna tell me, or do you want me to break the other seven?"
"All right, all right!" The thug broke down, gritting in sheer agony. "He's probably held up in his panic room."
"Panic room?" Randy questioned him, looking perplexed at the thought that he would be in one. "You sure he would be in there?"
The Cuban Cartel member sniffled as he held his hand. "He's been in there lately. With all his lieutenants gone, he's been on edge; hiring hookers left and right, snorting coke to relax, calling up all of us to be at his house. He's fucking losing it."
"Good." David said as he let the gangster go, and put a bullet in his head, spraying blood against the exquisite artwork behind him.
"Why did you kill him?" Randy said as he saw a three more coming down, cussing in Spanish and firing wildly at the two of them. He quickly ducked back down, but not before killing one of them, by splattering his brains all over his friends. "We could've gotten the code from him."
"He wouldn't give us one."
"How do you figure?"
"Because," David popped from cover for a quick second, and dropped the second one by putting a bullet through his throat. As the thug held onto his neck, blood spurted on the floor, while his eyes were bulging. David went back down, and looked at his brother. "Why would he give it to some low level thug? He wouldn't."
"But you heard him! He's lost it!" Randy shouted as he came out of cover and killed the third one with three bullets in the thug's chest, dropping him to the ground.
"So have we, for even coming here and pulling this shit off!" David countered, as he saw the thug he critically wounded earlier slowly crawl towards his Mini-Uzi. He came out of cover and fired two ten millimeter rounds into his back, causing his body to stop moving.
"Yeah…but we're having fun though!" Randy interjected and spotted one coming out of the kitchen looking confused, only to get a face full of nine-millimeter hollow point bullets. The thug's face was a ruined mess, while the back of the head exploded, covering the kitchen door with his own brains. "See what I mean?" Randy laughed. "Come on out Luis! Don't be such a fucking pussy!"
Back inside the panic room, Luis was gritting his teeth, after doing another line of cocaine. He watched his best soldiers; men and women that he picked himself, trained for weeks, and trusted to become the best, the Cuban Cartel had to offer. And here they were, being slaughtered left and right, with no remorse, and no mercy, by a pair of gun toting Italian brothers.
"We gonna stay in here or what?" The hooker replied as she stared at him getting more scared, as she flinched numerous times from the multiple blast of gunfire.
"Shut up." Luis muttered, as he continued to watch the security cameras. "Just shut the hell up."
"David, watch your left!" Randy yelled as he sprayed the MP5K back and forth, killing two Cuban Cartel goons.
"Got it!" David yelled as he quickly holstered the Delta Elite and brought out the Automag. Wasting no time, he aimed at one, and squeezed the trigger. The powerful bullet, bore a hole through the thug's center mass, destroying the poor man's lungs, heart, and any chance at all at living. He then walked into the kitchen only to duck down as a lady in her mid-forties, carrying an Ithaca Mag-10 shotgun aimed at him.
"YOU MOTHERFUCKERS! I'LL BLOW YOUR GODDAMN HEAD OFF!" The lady screamed out as she pulled the trigger. The loud boom from the ten gauge shotgun, cause David to scream, clutching his ears as both of them went deaf for several seconds.
"Jesus Christ!" David screamed, holding his ears in pain. His ears were ringing hard as glanced and thanked God that she only hit the cupboard, destroying it causing splinters of wood and glass to scatter on the blue and white tile floor. Aiming the Automag at her while placing one hand on his ears, he stared her down. "Put the gun down! I mean it! Put it down, or I'll put you down!"
"Fuck you maricon! My son, is going to butcher you and turn you into chorizo!"
Son!? David thought as he stared at her in shock. "Lady don't do it. Put it down. NOW!"
"FUCK YOU PUTO!"
BANG! BANG! BANG!
David whipped his head and saw Randy holding his submachine gun, glaring at her. Randy had shot her in the legs twice and once in the arm, causing her to drop the shotgun. He watched the lady mutter in cuss words, and sobbing. Randy walked past his brother, walking slowly like he was the star in an action flick, till he was a foot away from her, and grinned.
"You know, it almost pains me to do this." Randy smirked.
"You?! You fucking bastard! After what my daughter and I did for you, you're going to kill me?"
"Oh, that threesome? It was business. And to answer your last question…"
"Wait, I can still help you!"
"Really? How? I'm going to kill your son, blow this house into kingdom come, and make sure the Cuban Cartel is eradicated from this city. Any stragglers remaining will most likely drop their colors or get themselves arrested and sent up the river with no bail whatsoever. After all; you can't have a functioning gang without a leader. Cut the head off the snake…body dies. And speaking of dying," He pointed the MP5K at her grinning from ear to ear, and pulled the trigger, emptying the entire thirty-round clip into her, and watching her body fail and jerk from the impact of hollow point rounds. "Bye-bye, bitch."
"Jesus Christ." David said muttering under his breath. "Did you have to empty an entire clip in her?"
"Yup." Randy said simply. He reloaded his submachine gun with his last clip, and heard multiple footsteps. "We're down here assholes!" He shouted happily as the first Cuban Cartel thug ran right into his line of fire and pulled the trigger, peppering the area with bullets, and wounding two more. The first one died, falling flat on his face, while the other two were critically wounded. Before they could mentally say a prayer, David ventilated the two of them, double tapping the trigger. "This is getting on my fucking nerves. Luis, where the fuck are you?!" He shouted, shooting a cowering thug that tried to crawl away. He kicked the dead body in anger as he looked around.
"We already know he's in his panic room," David replied bringing his Automag up. "Let's just go there, put two in his head and head to moms for dinner."
"Food can fucking wait, fat ass," Randy deadpanned. His eyes narrowed as he saw three more hiding behind a large couch. "I swear to God, these fuckers are popping around like cockroaches." Pointing his submachine gun, he fired into the couch, hearing several grunts in pain.
David joined as well, emptying the entire magazine. While one bullet ripped open the top of a thug's head, spilling blood and brains all over the floor, two more bullets, tore into another hoodlum's chest, exiting out of her back, and into a sixty inch flat screen TV.
"Did you get them all?"
David didn't answer while he walked over to the couch and looked at the results. One was instantly dead, another was breathing shallow and bleeding all over, and the last one was completely unscathed and nervously holding a blood soaked Astra A-90 pistol. "Shit, I must be slipping," David muttered as he pointed his gun at the whimpering female thug, and put a bullet to her head, ending her prayers.
The unharmed thug, cried out in fear as blood and bone fragments hit him in the face. "Get away from me man! I'll blow your fucking head off!" He swallowed as slowly aimed the forty-five caliber handgun at David, shaking like a junkie going through withdrawal.
David's eyes shifted to him and smirked. "Go right ahead. Try." David kneeled down till he stared at the goon at face level.
"Are you nuts!?" Randy shouted.
David continued not to answer, as he smiled. "Come on, pull the trigger, and let's see what happens. Bet you don't have the balls to do it."
"I'll do it! I'll fucking kill you!' The Cuban Cartel thug cried out, shaking even more. "I'll do it, I swear on my mother, I'll put one in you bitch!"
"DO IT MOTHERFUCKER!"
"I WILL!"
"GO ON THEN!"
"DAVID, WHAT THE FUCK?!
"YOU'RE DEAD!"
"SQUEEZE THE TRIGGER THEN, PUSSY!"
"DAVID NO!"
CLICK! CLICK! CLICK!
The thug pulled the trigger even more, as nothing happened. His eyes were wide as saucers, as he stared at the gun and at David. "How the hell…I loaded this gun earlier, I know it should work!"
David snatched the handgun from him and checked the pistol in three seconds. "You know, it works better with the safety off." In one motion, he thumbed the safety off, and shot the guy in the shoulder. David stood up and stared at him as the thug started to blubber like a baby trying to get up only for David to push him back to the ground with his shoe. "You said you were gonna put one in me? How about I give you the remaining eight?"
"Wait, no!"
David ignored him as he emptied the entire pistol slowly into his enemy into the guy's chest, face, and stomach, causing overkill. When he was done he stared at the body, tossed the gun on the corpse, and then at his older brother. "Well then, let's head to that panic room." Randy stared at him surprised as he swallowed and followed.
The two brothers headed up the stairs, guns drawn and at the ready. While Randy was at the rear and looking around, one thug tried to run up a door banging on it. Both of them got into cover and watched the guy bang his fist on the door.
"Luis! LUIS! It's the DePalma brothers! They got through the gate and wiped everyone out! Let me in boss, please!" The thug cried out panicking. He was a light skinned Puerto Rican with a gold t-shirt, a pair of black denim jeans and light brown steel toed work boots that matched his complexion. He had on a fitted leather jacket with a shoulder holster inside the jacket, containing a Tokarev TT-33 pistol. Why he had on leather jacket in eighty-six degree weather was anybody's guess, as he now pounded on the door harder with his fists. "Come on! They're inside! Let me boss! Please!"
David whistled, as he came out of cover, scaring the Cuban Cartel thug. Time seemed to slow down as the thug reached for his handgun, while David brought up his Automag, and delivered three rounds. Two of them drove into his kneecaps shattering cartilage and bone, while the third one sunk deep into his gut, exiting out of his lower back. The thug screamed as he went backwards till he hit the door and sank to the floor, open mouthed in a state of shock. Blood pooled from his mouth and dribbled as he tried to raise his gun up, but unsuccessful as David delivered the final bullet into the man's skull, blowing his brains out as blood, bone and grey matter sprayed the door and part of the wall.
"Too slow," David muttered.
"You have anymore C4?"
"A few," David answered as he slapped one against the door and ran back into cover. "You ready bro?"
"Always." Randy smirked, readying his submachine gun.
"Good." David said and immediately pressed a button and covered his head.
The explosion rocked the house as the door was blown off the hinges. The body that David killed earlier was turned into ground round as blood, tattered pieces of clothing, and chunks of body parts flew everywhere. A boot flew by and struck Randy in the head, causing him to yelp in pain as he fell back.
"You ok?!" David yelled.
"Yeah, I think. Damn that hurt!" Randy said as he came out of cover and saw the damage. Grinning like madman, Randy strolled towards the panic room."Knock, knock, motherfucker!" Randy said he turned his head and felt three solid thumps against his stomach. He shouted as he staggered backward, hitting a wooden bookcase, as he saw that it wasn't Luis, but the hooker he had in his room earlier.
"Get away pendjeo!" She cried out, holding a Colt Ladysmith .38 revolver. As she got up from the bed, she aimed right at Randy's head as; Randy himself was trying to get up. "I can't wait for the reward Luis is gonna give me for killing you. I'm gonna be rich!" She said smirking, not knowing David snuck up to her and pressed his handcannon against her temple.
"I got a better offer." David said pulling the trigger and watching her body drop to the ground. "How's that for a reward?" He walked over to Randy who was in the middle of a mild concussion. "You're lucky that vest stopped those slugs."
"Yeah, lucky me." Randy said weakly. Getting up he saw the damage his younger brother did and shook his head. "Such a waste."
"Yeah…well, I'm over it." David said shrugging and looking for Luis in the large posh room. "The hell is he?'
"You don't think he snuck out do you?" Randy asked.
"Panic rooms sometimes have an escape tunnel or secret way to get…" David said before he heard a loud noise outside. "Did we forget anyone?"
"I don't think so." Randy said as he heard the sound of an engine revving. It took him a second before he realized who it could be as he looked at David. "You don't think that's him do you?"
"Better not be!" David yelled, fearing for the worse. Running out of the room, he glanced outside and his fears were true; Luis was trying to get away on a Bati 800 motorcycle. "Come on, he's escaping!" David yelled, making a break for it downstairs.
"Shit!" Randy mumbled, while slowly jogging, in some pain from earlier.
Outside, the Cuban Cartel leader continued to work the bike but, it continued to stall out on him. "Start you fucking piece of shit!" Luis groaned as tried once more. He had nothing on but a yellow paisley printed silk robe and boxers as looked back and saw David run out of the destroyed front door.
"There he is!" David shouted firing off the last remaining bullet at Luis and missed by a mile, hitting the window of a parked black 1992 Virgo. Somebody must be praying for his ass. I swore I aimed for his head! David thought as he saw Luis finally get the bike to work and peel off. "Randy, come the fuck on!"
"I'm nearly there!" Randy shouted lagging behind and, nearly out of breath. "Just give me a minute!"
I don't have a minute, David mused. Running out of patience for his older brother, David dashed towards the van they came in and got inside. Soon as he started the engine, he slammed his fist against the horn, signaling his brother to get a move on. Shaking his head, he stomped on the pedal, driving off in pursuit of last Cuban Cartel member.
As soon as Randy got out the front door he saw his brother driving off, he yelled for him, but to no avail. In a frantic and in pain on top of it he looked for a suitable vehicle, an couldn't find one that wasn't blown apart, shot to submission, or having more than one flat tire. Gritting his teeth angrily, he pulled out his cell phone he dialed David's number.
Several blocks away, David was catching up to the motorcycle barely. He swore under his breath as he felt his phone vibrate. "Please, don't let this be Johnny or Lilly," He said out loud as he jumped the curb, and slammed through a fruit stand. Setting the phone to speaker, his eyes went back to the matter at hand. "Who is it!?"
"How in the fuck do you leave me back there David!?" Randy shouted as he heard sirens coming by and was getting nervous. "This is a revenge plot, not a solo op!"
Rolling his eyes, the younger DePalma answered, "You took too damn long! Besides you saw what he's driving."
"Fuck all that!"Randy screamed. "Where are you?"
"Just follow the gunshots that are about to commence," David said as he ducked down from Luis brandishing a Micro-Uzi. Several bullets shattered the windshield as pieces of glass hit David on the back of his head. "Like those for example!"
Pissed he hung up as he looked around and, saw the one piece of transportation that didn't get mangled in their shooting; a black BMX bike. "I can't believe it's come down to this…fuck!"
Back on the street, David was beginning to lose him as Luis made a sharp turn, nearly crashing into flatbed truck, thus, causing David to swerve and hit a lamp post. People were screaming as they scattered and the post fell and, crashed on a taxi cab that was parked at a Taco Bomb fast food joint.
"My cab! I just finished the payments on it!" The cabbie cried out, dropping his enchilada, as he stared at his cab, ruined beyond repair.
"Sorry!" David yelled, apologetically. Throwing it in reverse, he backed up, threw it back in drive, chasing after Luis, who was riding and shooting his way out. "This is such bullshit! He's on a fucking crotch rocket, and I'm in a van suited for a youth group!" He screamed as he jumped in the sidewalk once again. Honking the horn, people jumped out the way, as he looked around for a suitable weapon to take Luis on. Opening the glove compartment, while keeping one hand on the wheel, his prayers were answered, in the form of a loaded Calico M950 nine millimeter pistol. Smiling, he grabbed it and fired. The first several shots missed and hit the windows of department stores, parked cars, and accidentally a hobo in the kneecaps.
Up ahead, Luis was swerving and screaming at the pedestrians to get away. He was sweating profusely and nervous, as he saw a RON gas station and smirked. Wasting no time, he pulled up to the station, scaring the people as he came up to a gas pump. Hopping off the bike he snatched the handle and placed the Uzi close to it.
"The fuck?" David wondered as he saw Luis and made the turn only to see a laughing Luis stare down at him.
"Time to light up!" Luis sneered. He pulled the trigger to the Micro-Uzi followed by pulling on the handle to the gas pump. The muzzle flash from the weapon ignited the gasoline the spewed from the nozzle and created a makeshift flamethrower. The flame wasn't long enough to touch the van David was in, but it scared him easily into crashing into several parked cars. An unlucky woman was caught in the stream of fire and set ablaze. She screamed at the top of her lungs as she dropped her bag of groceries as fell to the ground, shouting for help, and rolling back and forth.
"Holy fuck!" David yelled as he tried to aim at Luis. He fired off multiple shots, only to hit Luis in the thigh. He heard the cartel leader, shriek as he waved his 'flamethrower' back and forth, burning anything that got in his way. He saw Luis pull on the hose, and walking towards him.
"I'm gonna fucking roast your dago ass!" Luis shouted as he waved the hose flaming down another victim, this time a bald nineteen year old Colombian male who was wearing a baby blue Daytona Dolphins tank top, black denim jeans, and baby blue Eris high tops. The teenager swore as he dropped his cell phone and was set on fire in an instant. He cried for mother for a few seconds, while he was on the asphalt rolling for a few short seconds and stopped moving.
As David watched the horror of that Luis was doing, he decided to throw the van in reverse, only this time the engine stalled on him. Swearing under his breath, he took the weapon he had and pointed at Luis. "Say goodnight you sack of shit!" David yelled as he pulled the trigger.
Nothing happened.
David's eyes were wide as saucers. He pulled the trigger once again and nothing came out. The weapon was jammed. "Shit." David uttered as he saw Luis with a sinister smile until his face twisted into a contorted mix of pain and agony as three bullets dug into his hip, kneecap, and his earlobe.
Luis yelled in pain, as he threw the hose from him but kept the submachine gun in his hand. "¡Estas muerto!"
Four more rounds tore into his robe, digging into legs as he cried in frustration. Both David and Luis looked at who was the shooter. A panting, breathless Italian on a bike, holding a submachine gun one handed; Randy DePalma.
"You owe me big for this David." Randy grunted, out of breath as he hopped off the bike, and kicked the Micro-Uzi out of Luis hand. He kicked the fallen Cuban against his side, causing him to scream louder.
"Fuck you man! FUCK YOU!" Luis shouted as he felt himself being dragged by his foot towards the van. "The fuck are you doin'?"
"We're going a little ride, don't you worry," Randy said getting his second wind as he got up the van and banged on the door. "Open the door man!"
David rushed to the back and opened laughing at his rescuer. "You came here on a bike? A fucking bicycle?"
"It was all I can find!" Randy protested, pulling a bleeding Luis inside the van. "Get in here shithead!"
"Where are you taking me? I need to go to a hospital!" Luis cried out, frightened and shaking.
"Nah, you don't need that. We're going to take real good care of you," Randy smiled, patting Luis on the back, before kicking him in the ribs. "Start driving David."
"Give me a minute, the car is a bit banged up and its engine is stalled." David explained. He turned the key several more times only to hear the engine sputter. "I think it's fucked."
"Come on man! You're the expert on cars." Randy whined.
"Just keep Luis from leaving the van!"
"Dude, he's shot up. I don't think he'll even try to move." Randy laughed, staring at rage that Luis had on his face. He then heard the engine roar, and pumped his fist in triumph. "Alright, let's get this shit over with!"
"Guys, come on, let's talk this out!" Luis begged. "I'm sure we can work this out!"
"Yeah, there is; you die, and the two of us can go on with our lives without you or your sorry ass gang in it." Randy said, taking the ruined Kevlar vest off of him.
"You think killing me will cause the cartel to fold? I hope you're kidding. Even if I go, there's someone bound to take my place." Luis sneered as more blood dribbled out of his mouth.
"I highly doubt it," David interjected. "You're house is a shot to shit, a majority of your crew is dead, in hiding, or dropped their flags,. Even if some way someone tries to pull the crew together, it'll be a microcosm to what it used to be. Long story short, you're finished."
Luis was now scared than he ever was when he heard younger DePalma brother say this. A series of questions flooded his head with one of them being how they found his place, how they managed to shoot their way to get to his room, but most of all, why he couldn't kill Randy. He had wished he never formed the cartel in the first place, and had became a paramedic like his mom and sister instead of a hood. His sister was better off than he was as he felt the van start to move.
"Randy, I know we couldn't see eye to eye…"
"That's cause your ass was short." Randy cut him off laughing.
"I'm serious!" Luis raised his voice. "If you let me go, I'll won't bother you again. You have my word. I won't bother you or your brother, just don't do this to me…please."
"Don't start to bitch up. You wanted to start a war with me, when I was only trying to start a business with you."
"Fucking my mother and sister was business?!" Luis shouted as he slumped to the side, due to David making a turn.
"That was a tiny bonus, but hey, it ain't no fun if the DePalma can't have some, am I right David?"
"Pig." David quipped.
Randy shrugged. "Yeah, whatever, all I'm saying is Luis, is that you started it, so, I plan on finishing it. And what better way to do that than dropping you at the bottom of the ocean," Randy declared as Luis was now sniffling. "Come on man, drive this thing!" he turned at his brother.
In twenty minutes, the sun was starting to set as David finally pulled up to the docks. Seagulls were making noise , flying around as the fog horn from a ship was pulling away from dock. There wasn't anyone of threat around as two middle aged women jogged in front of the van, listening to music on their headphones.
"End of the line." David said, exiting out the van. When he got around, he opened the back door and saw a yawning Randy, and a whimpering Luis, who had his eyes closed, saying a prayer softly under his breath. The warm air hit Luis in the face as he opened his eyes slowly and saw David holding the Calico. "It's time."
Hearing his voice, Randy got out of the van, holding his weapon and pointed it at Luis. "I may be a prick, but I'll be nice for a change. Any last request before we put you down?"
Several seconds past by as he stared at both barrels and, came up with a decision. "Just don't shoot me in the face. My mom always said if either of her children died, she wanted a open casket funeral. Least grant me that. Not in the face…for my mother's sake." Randy chuckled hearing this request, shaking his head. "What's so funny?"
"Well, you won't have to worry about your mom seeing your funeral. The two of you can be reunited at the gates of hell." Randy said aiming at Luis in the stomach.
Tears filled in his eyes, as his lips were trembling in pure sadness and rage. He started to cry as he couldn't believe the news Randy dropped on his lap. He sobbed, choking on long sobs, ignoring the pain he was still in and the bleeding. "You motherfuckers…I hope someone kills you…or someone you truly love. I still have my sister…the minute she finds out my death, she'll come gunning for you two Italian cocksuc..."
Randy pulled the trigger, letting multiple rounds enter into the Cuban's stomach. David, let sixteen rounds from the Calico opening up the Cuban's chest. Blood spurt all over the van as David lowered the gun and shot at his crotch and legs. Both brothers showed grim expressions, as both of their guns clicked empty. David blew out a sigh and tossed the weapon in the van. When he turned he heard clicking. He turned around and saw his older brother still pulling the trigger on an empty MP5K.
"Die…just die…fucking die." Randy said in an low monotone voice that sounded like he was chain smoker.
David placed his hand and lowered the weapon down, looking at him. "Bro, take it easy. It's empty. Its over. You got him," he said as he took the weapon away and tossed it in the mangled, bullet riddled lap of Luis. "Come on, help me push this in the water."
It took Randy a minute to snap out of it as he shook his head and smiled slightly. "Yeah, sure thing. I'll push, you steer."
The two started as David released the emergency brake, while Randy pushed hard. "Can't believe we did it."
"Yeah, I'm surprised we even made it through that with what little we had." David said smirking.
"It old you we could do it."
"Well, that's cause you got a brother who can shoot straight." David said with a snide tone.
"If you could shoot straight, explain to me why you missed those shots as he got away. Care to explain that one hotshot?" Randy questioned as he grunted, pushing the van once more.
David stopped laughing and shrugged. "Fuck if I know. I guess Luis got lucky for a moment."
"I guess. But it's all done. I don't have to deal with the cartel any more."
"What about his sister," David wondered. "She might come looking for us."
Randy laughed. "Please, miss straight and narrow won't even try. And even if she did, well, we'll snuff her out as well."
"Hope it doesn't have to come to that," David wondered. "We're at the edge, let me help you push." David ran up to his older brother and helped him push the van one last time as the van fell in the sea with a large splash. Both brothers stared at the van slowly sinking, glad that it was over.
"You know what sucks? We didn't even get to blow up his house." Randy said kicking a rock into the water disappointed.
"You won't have to." David smiled brightly as he pulled out the detonator from his pocket and tossed it to his brother. "There's a few I didn't get to use but during that chase with him, I accidentally set them. Would you like to do the honors?"
Snatching the detonator, Randy grinned. "It'll be a fucking pleasure." He tossed the small device up and down while he glanced over the bubbles that the van made from being submerged. He raised the handheld device and smiled. "Time to blow."
David blinked twice and stared at his brother in disgust at the line he said. "Time to blow? Really?"
Randy smile fell as he laughed nervously. "I mean let's blow this guy…or…ah fuck it, you know what I meant!" he pressed the button and in an instant, the van exploded as water began to shoot upward and spray the two brothers with water. "Well he got blown pretty good don't you think?" He turned and saw his younger brother cover his face with one hand, shaking his head in embarrassment. "What the fuck did I say now?"
"You need to work on how to sound like a badass Randy. Just saying." David laughed as he hailed a taxi.
"Yeah, whatever," Randy said threw the detonator in the harbor. "I still can't believe we did that."
The cab stopped by David and he opened the door waiting for Randy. "Yeah. One down three to go." He said thinking about how he was going to get rid of the Yardies, I-9 Triads, and Bloodhounds. Pulling out his cell phone, he dialed up Lilly. "I say we all should celebrate."
Lilly was watching Republican Space Rangers, wearing a olive green blouse that had a v-neck showing off her cleavage, a pair of stonewashed blue jeans and sandals. She was laughing at what Butch was saying as she felt her IFruit phone vibrate. Quickly pulling it out, she saw it was David and squealed in delight. "Baby! How are you?"
David smiled hearing her voice as he got inside the cab. "Doing just great. What are you up to?"
"Just watching cartoons." Lilly shrugged. "When are you coming back?"
Randy got inside and heard Lilly on the phone. "Is that Lilly? Tell her I said hi!" He said cheerfully.
Rolling his eyes, David said, " Randy says hi."
Lilly chuckled. "I heard. I was wondering if we can do something tonight."
"You read my mind," David answered. "I was thinking maybe we could get something to eat."
"What you got in mind?" Lilly wondered.
"You'll see. Just take a cab to your house, and wear something sexy."
"What about panties?" Lilly smiled, her mind filling with lust.
"That's optional," David answered with a sly grin. "See you soon." David hung up the phone and looked at the cabbie, as both brothers closed their doors. "Cecil Apartments. Red Light District. And make it snappy."
"You got it." The cab driver replied as he started to drive.
David leaned back in the leather seating as relaxed as he looked at the window. Multiple ambulance vans and a fire truck were driving around, tending to people and putting out a fire. They not only got rid of a crew, but they got rid of a crew that was a thorn in Randy's side. David felt proud that he was able to help with his brother, and couldn't wait to celebrate it with food, liquor and with his girlfriend.
"Feel good to be a DePalma." David said softly closing his eyes to rest
"Huh?" Randy said wondering what his younger brother said.
"Thinking out loud." David yawned as went to sleep.