Makings Of A Rogue

Chapter 4 [I]

A pin drop would be heard all down the street, it was that silent, this was very unusual, practically a never occarence in one of the busiest places in the city of Nairobi, no matter the time of day or night. But this could be excused judging from the amount of fire power present.
The crowd had acted as a smoke screen for a small army to show up, all combat ready, AK47 their chosen weapons now pointed at the group of fourteen. With the two inside the crude inner circle, thirteen guns pointed at the male individual standing at middle, who seemed not bothered by all the attention he had gained. His hands still on his head, the only sign he was a major participant in this death match.
Alane let her eyes roam around, she felt her tummy turn to jelly, they were surrounded, by too many armed men to count, her team looking at her for direction, but to their credit they never broke rank and kept their guns pointed at Mr Scot.
Her eyes made it back to him, he was giving her all his attention and slowly he put his hands back down. Then he winked at her.
At that moment she lost her shit and in two swift strides her gun was on his temple. He didn't even flinch. She held the gun with her right arm, tilted upward to compensate for their slight hight difference, which was annusual and uncomfortable for her, seing that she was a tall woman, and most people had to look up when communicating with her, but not in this case. The asshole had to be taller than me she thought bitterly.