Gang Wars

Alliance

Chicago, Illinois

October 13, 2018

Emmett S. Mack

I was seconds away from blasting the new intruder to smithereens and making a break for it before whoever was shooting earlier killed us all.

That was, until I saw who it was.

"Holy..." Marcus Seal's jaw dropped as he lowered the Ruger lightweight compact revolver he was holding. "What's this? A Mexican standoff?"

In response, Blackbird aimed her MP5K at Marcus' head, prompting him to aim his LCR at Blackbird's chest. "Don't make me shoot you..." Marcus snarled.

"Don't give me a reason to shoot you," Blackbird said. "Who are you?"

"Name's Marcus," He said. "I'm part of this gang. Well, I lead the gang."

"Yeah, and I'm the co-leader," I added. "You'd better back away before this turns ugly."

"I could say the same to you," Blackbird retorted. "Except..."

She stopped mid-sentence when the gunfire re-started, except this time the shots were one floor above us, as opposed to below us like earlier.

That was when it hit us: those death squads the memo mentioned-the PMCs Serafino talked about-they were trying to box us in and slaughter us all at one time.

The look on Blackbird's face told us everything; it was something we didn't want to hear, but nonetheless we had no choice.

Marcus looked behind him and said, "There's a fire-escape that leads to the street level. We can use that to get out of here."

"Only problem is, said fire escape is all the way on the other side of the hall," said Blackbird. "I saw it. Assuming the PMCs are gonna be here before we get to the fire escape, we'll be dead meat."

"We could take the stairs," I said. "I mean, the guys below us are, what, thirteen floors beneath? This is the 14th floor, isn't it?"

"Yes," Blackbird said softly. Then she took a deep breath. "Okay, we got a problem. As much as I hate to say this, we're going to have to team up to get outta here. So either we try the fire escape, or shoot our way down the stairs."

"Maybe we could..." I stopped mid sentence when I heard voices coming towards our direction. "Damn it."

"So, consensus?" I asked. "Where do we want to go?"

"I vote the fire escape," said Cobra. "It's closer, but if they get there first, it's gonna be a bloody fight."

Everyone looked at each other and some heads nodded.

"All right, then," I said. "Then I guess we're taking the fire escape."

It was then that we heard a small object rolling on the floor. I looked down and my eyes widened as I shouted, "FLASH GRENADE! MOVE!"

Everyone scattered as I kicked the grenade into the bathroom and went to shut the door.

BANG! The flash went off, just as I was going to get into position to shut the door. Thankfully, the door protected us from the flash.

Unfortunately, the flash gave the PMCs who chucked it a window of opportunity to rush us.

The minute the flash grenade went off, the mercenaries broke in. I got to get a good look at their faces in the process; they were all wearing black BDUs, complete with tan CIRAS-type tactical vest, decorated by West Roman flag patches. They were all wearing balaclavas, though some of them wore goggles. Most of the mercenaries wore extra mags, NVGs, flares, grenades, and pistol holsters. All of them wore Pro Tec Classic helmets.