Posts Tagged ‘gangfight’

Two frustrated men stood outside the office’s side door, obviously having forgotten their security badges to get in.  I approached them and smiled, gesturing to my badge.  They stood aside as I opened the door and held it for them to enter.  The elevator ride up to the reception area was quick and quiet.

The secretary behind the desk smiled and waved at me as I passed, then turned to greet the two men I had helped enter the building.  Her smile quickly faded as each pulled a handgun from his jacket and pointed it in her face.  I reacted in an instant, reversing direction and sprinting towards one of the gangsters.  So quick was my move that they couldn’t  react until I had one in a firm choke hold, squeezing his carotid artery off and rapidly plunging him into unconsciousness.  His companion whirled towards me to fire his gun, but I disarmed my human shield, took up the gun while maintaining the strangle lock and fired a single shot, dropping him.

The flailing gang member still in my grasp tried to reach back to get hold of my head or free himself, but was too weak to put up much of a fight.  I placed the gun’s barrel to his temple and pulled the trigger.

It took days for me to recover from the adrenaline surge and subsequent crash of the realization of taking two lives, even if they did turn out to be from a rival gang,  but I hoped a trip to Big Al would help.

“Ain’t no nothing, icing somebody,”  he said. “Gotta keep on doin’ yo thang.”

Thanks, Big Al.


Kevin and I shouldered our way into the crowded room of the house party and made our way to the bar.  We grabbed a few drinks to sip on as we surveyed the partygoers.  One particular hot chick caught my eye and plans to scam her phone number were quickly put into motion.

I would approach her first, going the total nice guy route, chatting her up.  Kevin would soon come in and remark how she shouldn’t give her number out to some two-bit loser like me when she could give it to him.  This would cause her to give me her number just to spite him.  We executed the plan to perfection, and as she was writing down her number for me on a piece of paper we couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

“Ohhhh!  You just go so played!”

“That was our plan all along!”

After much knee slapping and high fives between we brothers, it became obvious she was not entertained in the least.  She broke into tears and ran off.  I looked at Kevin and shrugged.

Angry voices came hurtling in from the adjacent room.  Two very unhappy Albanians shoved their way through the crowd, each brandishing a menacing MAC 10.  

“Oh shit,” I said.

One of the gangsters shouted, “Who the fuck made her cry?”  He spotted us and didn’t wait for a reply, instead raising the MAC 10 and squeezing off a clattering stream of 9 mm bullets in our direction.  We ducked just in time, glass shattering behind us as the bar exploded in glittering alcoholic shrapnel.

We tripped over ourselves bolting for the stairs up to the second floor.  I frantically scrambled for the phone in my pocket and dialed 911.

“Please, you have to help us!” My voice shook with panic.  “I don’t know where we are, some place out in the middle of nowhere!”  I hung up in frustration.  We looked around.  They hadn’t come upstairs yet.

“Maybe they forgot about us,” remarked Kevin.  I shrugged.  It was possible.  We sat down on the floor.  Lucas came over and offered us some lunch.  I popped in a slice of avocado, savoring the delicious squish it made in my mouth.

The stairs below thundered with approaching footsteps.  “Or not. Let’s get the hell out of here!”

Lucas, now guilty by association, ran after us onto the room’s adjoined balcony.  We climbed down the decorative lattice of the porch below and made a dash for the vine covered wall of the backyard.  Vaulting over the wall, we landed in a large corn field.  The golden topped stalks reached well over our heads.  We gave no heed to a stealthy getaway and thrashed our way through the plants in a dead on sprint.  Bullets whizzed overhead.  Our pursuers were closing in.

With a cry of pain, Lucas fell to the ground clutching his leg.  Blood oozed from the wound.  There was no way we were going to be able to carry him and escape.  I regarded my fallen friend.

“Don’t worry Lucas, I’ll come back for you.  Kevin, stay here with him.”  There were two ways this could end, and I was determined to see it through to the conclusion that left us alive.

I started back the way we had come and met the group of gangsters hot on our trail in a small forest clearing.  There were six of them now.  The two armed with the machine pistols raised them at me, and a third aimed an automatic pistol at my head.  I walked up to them, staring down the leader.  Their fingers tightened on the triggers.

I stopped inches short of the leader’s still smoking gun barrel.  With lightning speed I snatched the gun from his hands and turned it to his face.  His steely gaze never wavered.  I squeezed the trigger and held it down.  The recoil jackhammered my arm as the gun fired off 10, 20, 30 rounds at point blank range.  My ears were still ringing as the smoke cleared.

There the gangster stood.  How did I miss?  How is that even possible?

“There’s only one way to settle this,” he muttered.  “Melee style.”

His gang grouped together, wrapping themselves in long lengths of heavy steel chain.  I bent to pick up a thick piece of insulated wire from the ground, about four feet long.  Bent in half, it would make an excellent whip.

The gang continued to wrap chains about themselves, intertwining the links until they were clustered in a group, unable to maneuver individually.  I raised my whip and slashed the leader across the throat.