The Tempest Prologue 22

Prologue 22

"Alan, how many you got on your side?" Paul asked his partner when they were caught in an ambush set up by the gang from across the city. They were led to this deserted warehouse, told that one of his boys was sheltering there from the cops. He was Brady, and Alan dragged Paul on the impulse. They arrived without the boys, reckon Brady was really in another of his stupid acts. It turned out that it was an elaborate trap; Brady was at the docks waiting for the so called invasion by the others.

"I got two here." Alan told him. He then point at his gun. His finger showed two. That was bad. There was no mercy bullet. Paul had one guy on his side and was down to one bullet. He was hoping to keep that one for himself. He dread being tortured or drowned with his feet encased in concrete. Paul looked out, and saw his guy was behind the crate. If he missed the guy, he was dead. Alan let off one shot and got two shots back.

"I got one more. I am down to the last guy." Alan told him. "When you can get yours?"

"Soon." Paul looked out. He poised to shoot, but then he heard the shot. His target dropped down on the flooring. Paul looked towards Alan.

"He pop out too far with his butt." Alan laughed; besides his splash of anger, he was also into dry humor. "Shoot mine, please."

Paul looked over and saw he was not in any position to shoot the other guy. He moved to the next cover and drew more fire. It was then Alan fired and missed.

"Damned!" Alan cursed at his aim. Paul was at his next cover and tried to sight the guy. He got it and took his shot. He did it. Both Alan and himself walked over and looked at the last dead guy. He picked up the gun and looked at the ammo clip.

"Two bullets." Alan whistled out. "The guy must had us tagged for his mercy bullets."

The mercy bullets was a joke between the two. They said if they were in a fix, they would do each other with one bullet.