A Man of Honor.

Chapter 75: Bitter Work for a Bitter Night.

"Say hello to my little friend!" Tony Montana, Al Pacino Scarface.

The sky above had become a fucking firework show.

The bullheads were either shattered as the missiles hit their mark or they burned as their engines were destroyed and were sent spinning to the ground.

"Whoo! How do you like that motherfuckers!?" One of the Motley's shouted seconds before they opened fire with the heavy machine guns. The small handful of remaining bullheads in the sky didn't stand a chance. Twin lines of tracers streaked across the sky, I watched as one bullhead attempted to evade the hair of bullets only to stupidly smash into the side of one of the other bullheads sending them both down. Another one burst into flames.

As I watched them all fall from the sky in flames, I couldn't help but smile. The first part had gone flawlessly. I checked my scroll but there wasn't any tower service. I wanted to check in with Blake, Sienna and everyone else. Hopefully Blake had dealt with the bomb and Sophia and Junior were supposed to lead the charge in fighting the Fang in Vale. But with no way to call them from over here so I simply had to trust that they were getting the job done on their own.

"That's all of them." Boris casually said, closing the laptop. "Now let's check for survivors."

"Could anyone fucking survive that?" Cardin asked, dropping his spent missile launcher and stepping towards the edge of the cliff and looking down at the burning wrecks.

"I've been shot down myself." Boris told him, joining him to look down at the wrecks. "Didn't Beacon teach you landing strategies?"

"More like they wanted us all to develop our own before initiation." I answered him, stepping over myself and looking down. It was like looking down into a smoldering campfire. "And we usually weren't blown up in the process. But let's not leave anything to chance. Adam was supposed to be aboard one of them after all."

"Well them let's load the fuck up and keep this party going." Babe said, jumping down off the back of the truck and waving her axe around. "Let's ride!"

The Motley's gave a shout of enthusiasm as they discarded the used launchers and scrambled for their hogs. Headlights turned on and their engines roared as they started their engines and took off. We piled out into the trucks to follow them as they led the way down the old abandoned roads. Years of being abandoned had actually left these strips of pavement in far better condition than I had expected. No traffic wearing them down all these decades meant that it was mostly dust and brush and the Motley's and other criminal types usually cleared that up. Not to say that the ride was particularly gentle. The whole time the truck jostled as we rode over gravel and other shit that was strewn across the road.

Deery let out a sigh. "That felt..."

"Unsporting?" Russel asked her, voicing his thoughts.

Deery gave him a nod. "I was actually going to say too easy. That was a fucking turkey shoot."

"That's what we planned it to be." Cardin told her. "Don't tell me you expected it to be a fair fight."

"No." Deery told him. "It's just... how many people do you think we killed?"

"A lot." I told her. A part of me figured her reservations were because it was the Fang we had just taken down. She'd never expressed much regret over the fact that her former comrades were now her enemies. But I figured watching at least a score of them being blown out of the sky had some effect. "And any survivors are going to be taken care of. Do you want to sit this one out?"

"No I... I can do this." Deery told me.

"Yeah you probably can. But you don't have to, and I won't care either way." I told her, not wanting her to feel like she needed to prove something by going out there and putting her Fanus comrades down like animals.