Criminal Breath | Peaky Blinders x Red Dead Redemption

Chapter 18

Dutch's gang emerged from the alleyways with a feral howl, guns blazing. The element of surprise was on their side as they tore through the enemy's ranks, their desperation fueling their brutal efficiency. The two groups of outlaws moved in unison, a dance of death that seemed almost choreographed.

Tommy watched the carnage unfold with a mix of awe and horror, his own hand steady as he picked off targets from his perch. Despite their shared hatred for the Italians, the alliance with Dutch was still as fragile as the glass in the windows of the buildings they used for cover. Every shot was a gamble, a declaration of intent to stay alive.

The fight grew more intense as they approached the warehouse, the Italian's numbers seemingly endless. Tommy felt the weight of his decisions, each bullet a testament to the lives he had led and the price of the gold he sought. Dutch's gang fought with a ferocity that was almost contagious, their howls and gunfire a chorus of anger and desperation.

Suddenly, a deafening boom echoed through the streets, shaking the very foundations of the warehouse. The Italians had brought in carriages loaded with explosives, a tactic that sent shivers down Tommy's spine. The buildings around them groaned and creaked as the walls of the warehouse cracked, dust and debris showering down upon them. The explosion sent a wave of heat that washed over the rooftop, and for a moment, the battlefield was obscured by a cloud of smoke.

As the smoke cleared, Tommy saw the extent of the damage. The warehouse's entrance was now a gaping maw, the gold within in danger of falling into the wrong hands. He turned to his men, their faces a mix of shock and determination. "We need to get down there," he bellowed over the din. "Protect the gold at all costs!"

They scurried across the rooftops, leaping from one precarious edge to the next, their boots thudding on the wet shingles. The air was acrid with the scent of gunpowder and burning wood, and the cobblestone streets were slick with blood and rain. Below, the people were in disarray, stunned by the sudden and unexpected explosion.

As they descended into the alleyways, they encountered a scene of chaos. The Italian gangsters were in disarray, some retreating in the face of the unrelenting fire from the Peaky Blinders and Dutch's gang. Tommy's eyes searched for the gold, spotting it through the warehouse's shattered doors, glowing like a beacon amidst the flaming debris.

"Secure the gold!" he shouted, his voice hoarse from the smoke. His men rushed forward, their boots echoing off the cobblestone. The remaining Italians, seeing the gold within their grasp, had turned their attention to the warehouse. The air was a cacophony of gunfire and shouts as the two sides clashed once again.

Dutch's gang emerged from the smoke, their eyes wild with battle lust. They saw the gold, and the alliance was forgotten. The chaos grew more intense as they all fought to claim the prize. Tommy felt a hand on his shoulder, and he spun around, his Colt at the ready. It was John Marston, his eyes a mix of urgency and warning.

"The law's coming," he said, his voice barely audible over the din. "We need to get the gold and go."

Tommy nodded, his eyes never leaving the gold. "You're right," he said, his voice tight with determination. "But not before we push the Italians back."

The two men stepped into the fray, their pistols firing in tandem. The sound was deafening, a symphony of chaos that filled the streets. Bullets whizzed by, and men fell around them like ragdolls. Dutch's gang and the Peaky Blinders fought side by side, their mutual greed for the gold overpowering their mistrust. They moved as one, a whirlwind of death and destruction that the Italians could not withstand.

Suddenly, a piercing scream of timber echoed through the warehouse, and the ground beneath them began to tremble. The fire had spread, eating away at the wooden beams that held the structure together. The warehouse groaned and buckled, sending a plume of smoke and embers into the night sky. The walls swayed precariously, threatening to bring the entire building down on their heads.

Tommy's heart skipped a beat. He knew they had to move fast. "Fall back!" he yelled to his men, his eyes never leaving the gold. "We need to get out of here before it's too late!"

They retreated, the sound of cracking timber growing louder by the second. The warehouse groaned and shuddered as if in its death throes, the very air vibrating with the promise of imminent destruction. Dutch's gang fought with renewed vigor, driven by the need to escape with their prize.

The Peaky Blinders and Dutch's gang stumbled back into the alleyway, their breaths ragged from exertion and fear. They didn't pause to look back, the warehouse's fiery maw lighting their path as they sprinted for safety.

The walls of the warehouse groaned like a dying beast before giving way with a thunderous roar. The alley trembled as a cascade of flaming timbers and crumbling masonry engulfed the space where they had just been standing. A cloud of dust and smoke billowed outwards, obscuring their escape route.

Dutch slammed his fist into the cold brick wall in a fit of rage. "The gold," he roared, his voice strained with frustration. "It's all for nothing if it's buried under that mess." His gang, equally disheartened, shared his fury. The Peaky Blinders looked on, their eyes hard with the reality of the situation. The gold they had fought and killed for was now entombed in the very place they had sought to claim it from.

Tommy stepped forward, his expression a mask of determination. "We can't leave it," he said, his voice cutting through the acrid air. "We've come too far." He turned to the others, his gaze lingering on John Marston. "We need a plan to-" Dutch cut him off, the frustration still clear in his voice "Oh, and what's the plan gonna be, Tommy? Dig through the ruins of the warehouse and see if there's something left while the law is breathing down our necks?"

John Marston spoke up, his eyes on the chaos of the burning warehouse. "I know a way we might still get it," he said, his voice carrying a hint of urgency. "But we need to move now."