Poisoned Waters | ✓

|𝟐𝟑| "𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧"

𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐘 staring at the burner phone, Mack and West anticipated a phone call. The tiny screen remained black, and West groaned. "Are you sure it's even charged?"

"Yes." Mack answered simply. He was staring blankly at his 9mm pistol, running his fingers along the grooves and towards the muzzle.

"Well, Angelo could've been more strategic with this info-passing, this burner is dumb." West complained. Mackenzie's blue eyes inspected West for a moment before he resumed his fiddling. It was eight in the morning, the three men had agreed weeks prior that Angelo would brief them on the next plan; this one being sure to get Noah killed, at Mack's request.

"Shut up and sit down." he muttered. West rolled his eyes, replying with his middle finger, before wandering over to Mack's kitchen and looking for anything worth eating.

Mackenzie removed the safety and cocked the gun, enjoying the clicking sound it made. His finger glazed over the trigger. The rush of excitement made him exhale in pleasure.

"You better watch where you aim that thing," West stated, returning with a tall glass of milk. He gulped half of it down, which left him with residue along his top lip.

"I should shoot you just for drinking my milk like that." Mack scowled.

"Milk makes your bones big and strong, mate," he raised his arm to flex his biceps.

Mack scoffed dryly at this imbecile, just as the phone began to ring with an irritable ringtone. He snatched it, as West gasped dramatically, and answered. "The plan?"

"Hello, to you too," Angelo replied satirically.

"The plan?" Mack repeated with a harsher tone. "I want this done as soon as possible, so you bussing convo isn't doing much help for your end of the deal."

"It's simple, really. You get the ammo ready and tell me where my Ascots can find it in that maze of yours. I'll be at the door." Angelo explained calmly.

"They'll gun you down if you even try to get anywhere near," West interjected.

"That's why you'll get rid of your lookouts. You'd better not double back like last time and kill one of mine. I'm in your territory and I won't hesitate."

Mack furrowed his brows as he took in a deep breath, "Okay, then your Ascots better not get caught. What'll you do when you get in here?"

"Attack subtlety from inside, and then get rid of Noah for you,"

"No!" Both Mack and West abruptly spoke.

"I kill him. We agreed on that." Mack asserted.

"What? Mack, we never agreed to killing Noah, I told you we're not doing that," West demanded. It seemed that conversation thats  they had at the memorial linkup a little over a month ago was useless.

"Do you want this place for yourself or not? Noah is what stands in the way, do you not get that?" Mack spat. West stared at him in disbelief, it was really happening. "I am killing Noah, Angelo, I am." he repeated.

Angelo heaved on the other end of the phone, clearly not pleased. "Just get my ammo ready. My Ascots will come from the North and infiltrate from your east perimeter, so make sure it's clear, or I will."

"Okay." Mack strained. The call ended without another word from the other end of the line. Mack stared at his gun, lost in thought, while West gradually lost his mind.

"I thought we fucking agreed that Noah wouldn't be killed. Don't you think it'd cause suspicion?! Noah winds up dead at the hands of you? You, Mack, you!" he screamed. He raked his hands through his hair so many times that his hair tie fell from his curly bun.