BULLET-CITY

Part-4

          The air was crisp and cold. Miles Cove's breath frosted in the air as he approached the dark, abandoned train station. With so many twists and turns the station felt claustrophobic. Keeping one hand in his grey sports coat pocket and the other close to his .45, he tried his best to hide a chill so as not to show weakness in front of the several men following him.

          Miles was a born leader. Aside from being a top ranking city official to the mayor and silent partner of Gunn-Tech, the U.S. Military's biggest R&D (research and development) and supplier, he was certainly enjoying some of the underground perks of being in authority. Anyway, it wasn't like he got to the top by playing by the rules. He got there the same way he always did: through the right connections, money and by force.

          A man behind him who was holding a large black briefcase caught up to his side.

          "Are you sure this will work, boss?"

          Miles gave the man an annoyed look. "Just keep your mouth shut and let me do all of the talking."

          Miles snatched the briefcase out of the man's hand as they approached the entrance of the open train cars. Miles took a deep breath and entered into the dark cart.

          They were met by two men in sharp black suits and m16s. The men wore round black sunglasses despite the only source of light coming from a lonely swinging light-bulb.

          The men spoke in grunts and growls as they patted Miles and his crew down for weapons and knives. As soon as the last man was patted down one of the guards tilted his head towards the inside.

          Miles was greeted by a tall man with slicked back black hair wearing a black double-breasted suit. "You must be the boss," said miles.

          "I know who I am, but you are late," retorted the man in the double-breasted suit.

          Three men came from the shadows and grabbed the briefcase from Mile's hand. The men set the briefcase on an old four legged wooden table and unsuccessfully tried to open the case.

          The man in the double breasted suit impatiently slicked back his hair with his hand, "What's taking
so long?"

          "Sorry Bruce, there seems to be a combination lock on this thing, we can't open it."

          A smug grin covered Miles face. "First, you show me the money."

          Like clockwork, the three men behind Bruce quickly lifted their M16's and aimed straight at Miles. With a swish of his hand, Bruce halted the men. Without breaking eye contact with Miles, Bruce issued with his other hand towards one of the men holding a gun to bring the money.

          The man lowered his gun and picked up a briefcase from the floor by the wall and put it on the table. The man opened it and spun it around towards Miles. The suitcase was filled with $100 bills. Miles estimated at least two million, easy.

          "15637 left, 09312 right," said Miles, still holding his grin. He refused to break eye contact with Bruce. The man behind the desk who opened the money suitcase slid over to the locked briefcase and put in the combination. The case opened with a satisfying click. The man opened the case and looked for a moment.

          "What is this?" said the man.

          Bruce furrowed his brow and made his way over to the suitcase. The case contained the new prototype sniper rifle.

          Bruce stood silently looking into the suitcase. The ticking of Bruce's watch rang in Miles's ears like large bells as Bruce's passive-aggressive demeanor began to unsettle him.

          "What is this?" said Bruce calmly.

          "That is the Sniper S150. Everything is there, you can check it."

          "Something is here yes, but the question is, what?"

          Beads of sweat began to drip down Mile's face as his smile turned upside down.

          Suddenly, Miles grabbed a small beretta hidden in a secret pocket compartment in his jacket. He grasped the suitcase full of money and tipped the table over with his knee. Mile's men charged Bruce's startled body guards, knocking them to the ground.

          Miles swiftly threw the case to one of his men. "run you fool!"

          Miles then turned to a startled Bruce and stuck the beretta under his ribs.

          Without warning, a random stray bullet ricocheted off the wall, hitting one of the men and killing him instantly. As if in one full motion all of the men from both sides went silent and looked on.

          A random clapping echoed through the chamber and broke the silence. A grinning, tall, muscular man with a burn scar on the right side of his face stepped out of the shadows. The man's uncharacteristically straight white teeth seemed to sparkle as he swooshed back his long tan trench coat to reveal a smoking revolver. The man with the revolver fired at the wall. One of Bruce's men cracked a smile and aimed his gun at Miles. Several other men followed suit.

          Miles dropped his gun and ran out the door with his posse not far behind.

          "Follow him!" yelled Bruce as he slicked back his hair.

          The men jumped to their feet and ran out the door. Following through the twists and turns of the train yard they finally made it to the red crossing bridge by the ocean.

          Out of breath, Bruce's men stopped and began firing in vain across the bridge at Miles. A stray bullet from across the way ricocheted off of the side of the bridge killing one of the running men. Another bullet ricocheted off an iron brace killing another. The large man in the trench coat stood beside Bruce and flipped the revolver back into its holster.

          "Take care of the other three will you? I'm out of these bullets," he said gruffly. 

          "Yes, sir."