Rouge Wines With Blood Splatters

Chapter 1 Act 3-1

           "Well, that reminds me of a slaughterhouse, yep it's a little fresh," she reflects irritated. A grotesque sight these men's upper torsos and heads manifest in flesh shreds, but the legs and pelvic regions avoided any wound channels or bullet holes. Faces and heads disfigured and unidentifiable even possible by dental records. Scorching brass casings roll around ladening the cement roof top. The thunderous gunfire barrage alerts the two remaining men to back track, and seven additional mobster thugs join the execution party. One man lights up a Cuban cigar as the mob speeds down the hall toward the roof entrance. "This idiot traps themself on the rooftop, what a moron," the smoking man mocks. "A fat pay raise after cleaning up her bullet infested corpse," he adds greedy.

This woman stands to the left of the door aiming her Custom Silenced Stainless-Steel Beretta 92FS Inox 9mm Pistol towards the door well. She aims her Ingram MAC 10 Machine Pistol in the small stairway vent. "Ugh, a guard gags, almost spewing chunks on the floor. "You must be a newbie," a veteran guard laughed. The reality is three torn up mangled carcasses demoralize all the men on sight, but some men greater than others. Knees tremble as uncertainty plants itself in the men minds. "How many men won't make it," one thug thought. "Idiots don't they realize, I can hear all their footsteps and know the exact moments to fire at them. "Paid to be a foolish corpse," she sighs in remorse. A careless thug rushes through the door by his bosses' orders, and he steps around the dead body in the door well. He receives a quick painless bullet through the ears splattering blood and brain matter on the door and cement. His lifeless body crumbles to the cold ground as blood erupts from the fresh holes in his head. Pulling the right-hand trigger, she unleashed thirty-three rounds demolishing all but one guard in the stair well through the vent shredding the soft aluminum to pieces. These guard's leader remains, yet this well-trained veteran and loyal protector alone facing a maniac. His heart rate and pulse rise while both hands quake and grow sweaty. This machine gun barrages' report creates a painful experience in both his ears and affects his visions focus for about three seconds. All 9mm 124 grain FMJ rounds reached supersonic speeds dealing many sonic booms along the bullets path, and his ears suffer from high decibels noise in a confined space.

Flesh and crimson rivers coat the stairs in a heinous sight, and the remaining guard fires his Norinco 77B 9mm Pistol four times at the now open shredded vent. The woman has already taken cover back behind the cement wall. "Stupid idiot he has five shots left," and I have ninety-four rounds remaining among my firearms. He tries to seize a MAC 10 Machine Pistol off another corpse while firing two cover rounds but finds a well-placed bullet in his right shoulder. "Damn bitch, she one hell of an agile shot, and ruthless as the Triads, no, beyond that level," he reflects in panic. With three rounds remaining, she hurls the empty MAC 10 Machine Pistol angled at the door, so it ricochets down the stair well. He fires valiantly at the doorway, but it's a fatal mistake her Custom Silenced Beretta 92FS Inox 9mm Pistol plants a 130 grain FMJ tungsten core APR bullet through his delicate windpipe. Blood erupts out of his mouth as he chokes, and his eye roll back into his head as this man crumbles dead to the hard cement floor. "Bullet through a vent in into his throat creating a ventilation tunnel, harsh irony!"

"Ah, the Swedish Fabio wielding an Steyr AUG A1 Bullpup Assault Rifle chamber in 5.56x45mm NATO rounds, yet time to face a world top assassin," Plum Eyes reflect intrigued. She returns to cover as she spots his reflection through glass laden on the bottom stairwell. This ruthless man's caution and divisive nature leads him to sweep through his victims as mere play toys.

His AUG Rifle barrel escapes past the entrance to the door well and utilizing the glass to find where his foe could retaliate from. "Given the level of carnage a brutal yet precise foe doesn't tread foolish against," he deliberates as tension build in his right trigger hand and left-side neck. A methodical spray of thirteen 5.56x45mm NATO Hollow Point rounds hammers the shredded open vent and the door area sweeping. This deafening stream of bullets and expanding brass fractures unrestrained against the cement walls. Another gun man working under the same boss appears from the downstairs office west side door. These two men know each other, yet it's two on one battle of gunmen. "What a wasteful barrage of 5.56x45mm Nato rounds, and this world class pain never bothered to study the Minji Export Plaza Building's floor plans either," Plum Eyes deliberates annoyed. "An armor piercing tungsten .50 BMG round proves even unable to punch through this dense reinforced steel concrete wall!"