“Yeah, that’s me.” He perked up, proud that his president knew his name already.
“Yeah, you’re one of Juarez’s prospects. That makes you pretty good in my book already,” I told him as we started down the stairs together. I didn’t want to admit it, but I was a little relieved to have someone with me.
I fished the keys to the Suburban out of my pocket and handed them to Cliff as we reached the bottom of the stairs at the garage.
The sound of shattering glass suddenly filled the room around us. I looked up in time to see the last of the back window fall out of the Suburban.
“What the hell?” I asked, putting my arm up in front of Cliff and pushing him back against the wall. “That’s not right,” I told him.
Then, the unmistakable sound of gunshots rang out, and bullets flew past us.
“Get down!” I shoved Cliff to the floor just as a bullet whizzed past my head. We were under attack and needed to get out of the line of fire while securing the garage.
That bitch, I thought as I ducked down to avoid the hail of gunfire. I couldn’t believe she’d gone and turned us over to Ivan like this. I couldn’t believe it was going to end this way.
Chapter 25
“Cliff, get down!!”
The kid stood up against my orders and whipped a gun out from the waistband of his jeans. He started firing on the group of men approaching HQ. I watched in amazement as a couple of them fell to the ground. It wasn’t clear how many of them Cliff actually hit because the boys upstairs were returning fire as well.
I had definitely gone soft, I realized. It had possibly happened before Julia even showed up. At some point, I had stopped carrying a gun on me at all times. I reached for it now, crouched on the floor near the staircase, but it wasn’t there. I didn’t have my holster under my vest like I always used to. Things had been too quiet and too easy for far, far too long.
I looked around the room to see if there was a gun sitting out where I could get to it, but no such luck. My gun was upstairs in my personal room.
Cliff’s gun stopped firing, and I heard him fall before I saw him tumble to the ground. There was blood everywhere, but the lefty’s gun fell out of his hand and slid in my direction. I quietly thanked him as I reached for it. He had been a promising prospect, but at that moment, I needed the protection, and he was lying on the floor of the garage, either dead or dying.
I eyed the garage doors. I needed to lower them so we could go on the defensive from upstairs, but the hail of gunfire made it incredibly dangerous to try to get to the front of the building. I fired off a couple of rounds to try to take a few of them down and clear the air enough to make my way over to the doors to let them down. On my feet, gun in hand, I took a step and fired. I watched one of Ivan’s men crumble to the ground outside. Feeling pretty good, I took another step.
Suddenly, shots rang out behind me. Some Kings of Hell members hurried downstairs with guns in hand. Automatic assault rifles surrounded me. They were actually weapons from a shipment we had intercepted on its way to Ivan a while back. The irony was as delicious as it was deadly.
“Get the doors,” Angelo said as he walked past me.
The guys ducked down behind anything they could to shelter themselves from the bullets raining into the garage. Chase and Juarez climbed into the Suburban and shot through the back window—we had each door, including the rear, insulated with Kevlar just for situations similar to this one.
Angelo caught me watching the guys and jerked his head towards the doors, reminding me to get them down. I jumped into action, ducking as I hurried to the chain holding the doors in place. I grabbed the first one and started to let it down when a black leather gloved grabbed my wrist and a thick Russian accent interrupted me.
“No, that’s not a good idea for you,” the bear said, pulling my arm back and head-butting me onto my back on the floor. He laughed a thick, heavy laugh as he pulled up his gun and aimed it at me.
Just then, he took a hit to the head and toppled down in front of me.
“If you don’t get those doors down, Gage, you’re next,” Angelo called, but I didn’t hear his gun go off again.
“You gotta be shitting me,” I said aloud, looking around for him. I couldn’t see him anywhere. “Angelo!” He didn’t pop up anywhere.
I grabbed the bear’s assault rifle and started popping off guys standing behind the black SUV’s lining the street. They were using the cars for cover. Glass shattered, and a few of the men fell. We were doing something right, because the gunfire was quieting down. I took advantage of the lull in action and grabbed the chain again, unlatching it to let the door close rapidly. A few bullets tinged against the thick sheet metal as it lowered, but one made it in underneath the door before it closed all the way.