2025-06-27 21:58:59
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Scorpion’s Last Call
The dogs were back—big, loud, and chained this time. One lunged, barking its throat raw, but the chain held. Dane didn’t flinch. He kept moving. He already knew this was a dead end. “Stop! Don’t move!” he shouted, weapon up. “You move, I shoot!” He sprinted to the far wall, vaulted the fence like it was nothing, and vanished into the next yard. Dane cursed under his breath. “Who the hell is this guy?” He scaled the fence, dropped hard on the other side. Chaos exploded. Women shrieked, kids scattered. Plastic chairs clattered across concrete. The man tore past them, wild-eyed, bleeding sweat. Eyes locked on Dane. None of it mattered. He had one target. “I told you I didn’t want to!” the man yelled. “You made me!” Dane charged after him. “Don’t run!” He raised his gun and fired. The man’s leg folded beneath him. He hit the dirt screaming, blood pouring through his hands.As the man lay on the ground in pain, holding his bleeding leg, Dane moved closer and bent down.“Hey, dud
Thirteen Targets
“Should I just go in and start shooting? I’m sure their guard is down,” he muttered, edging forward as he slowly pushed the gate open.Just then, a dog near the group of men who were drinking and laughing started barking—loud and aggressive.Dane froze.“What now?”One of the bikers looked up, alerted.“Hey, everyone—Jack’s dog is barking. Someone’s here!”They all turned toward the gate. One of them spotted it shifting.“The gate moved! Someone’s at the back!”Dane clenched his jaw.“Do I do it now? Injure them? Take them down before they react?”The atmosphere shifted. The laughter died immediately. The lighthearted chatter vanished. Tension rose like a storm.They were starting to move—grabbing weapons, looking around.“If I start firing now, I’ll be their first target,” Dane thought.His hand went to the grenade in his jacket.“Grenade… Yeah, grenade.”He yanked the pin out, then tossed it into the middle of the yard.The grenade hit the ground with a metallic thud.A split second
Loaded Questions
He drove his bike through the streets, using one hand to steer while the other held his phone, following the directions from the site.“Should I call Butcher now or not?” he muttered to himself.He continued riding until it was 11 a.m.“I hope I get there soon,” he said, then increased the speed of his bike.After a while, the time was already 2 p.m. He finally reached the location the tracker pointed to. It led him to a place where people were drinking, where they usually sat—a spot filled with a bunch of parked bikes.“Is this the location? I hope this thing’s right… that this is where Gina and Ella are?” he said to himself. “I don’t know them. There’s a chance they’ve been kidnapped. There’s a chance they haven’t. I don’t know the kind of life they live. They might live rough… I just don’t know.”He got off his bike, holding the suitcase in one hand and his phone in the other. He unbuttoned the jacket of his suit. From the back pocket on the right side, he pulled out two grenades a
Nothing Adds Up
I hope I’m wrong, Dane thought. But what if they were kidnapped?The house was too still. Too staged. Nothing looked ransacked. Even the cracked door—it didn’t fit. Like someone had tried to make it look like no one had been here… but missed the details.Did the kidnappers clean up after themselves?He moved through the open door in the hallway, the one the wounded dog had been guarding. Another door stood at the end—closed, quiet. He stepped toward it and pushed it open.A bedroom.Everything was in place. The bed was made. A folded hoodie lay at the foot. No signs of a struggle.Too perfect.He backed out slowly and returned to the living room. Something still felt off.He turned toward the kitchen, just a few steps away. Inside, it was clean—but not spotless. The air held the faint, stale scent of food long untouched.He walked to the fridge and opened it. Inside, a pack of frozen chicken breasts and a few half-full bottles of drinks. He crouched and touched the freezer lining. Sti
The House with No Answer
After a 45-minute ride, Dane finally reached the address. He pulled up in front of a weathered, run-down house. Shutting off the engine, he stepped off the bike, grabbed the suitcase, and popped it open. Inside, a Glock. He loaded it quickly, slid it into his right hand, and gripped the suitcase in his left.He moved toward the compound, slow and alert. His eyes swept the surroundings—no movement, no sound. Just silence and overgrowth. The front garden was wild, choked with weeds and long-dead plants.At the main door, he knocked. Once. Twice. Three times. No answer.Then a dog barked from somewhere inside.“So there’s a dog in here… not sure if anyone else is,” he muttered.He pulled out his phone and called Butcher.The line connected fast.“You there already?” Butcher asked. “Have you started? Moved in?”“Yes, sir,” Dane said. “I’m at the location. Doesn’t look like anyone’s here, but I’m not sure.”“You’re right to be cautious,” Butcher replied. “Listen, I forgot to send you a few
One Word Away
As he caught the suitcase, it bent slightly in his grip. He opened it.Dane was annoyed—really, really annoyed—but he didn’t say another word. He began loading the guns, bullets, and everything he needed into the suitcase. Once it was all packed, he closed it with a sharp click.He stood up, ready to leave. Jimmy was still staring at him, that smug look glued to his face.Dane walked toward the door. But just as he reached it, he paused. He didn’t push it open right away. Instead, he turned slightly and looked back at Jimmy.With his hand on the doorknob, he said, “After I come back from this mission… I promise you—if you ever act this way toward me again, I won’t let it slide.”Jimmy leaned back in his chair, that same smirk tugging at his lips. “That’s only if you survive.”Dane didn’t respond. He turned the knob and walked out. As he stepped into the hallway, he saw Jota standing beside the door.you’re always everywhere,” Dane said.“Please, sir. Let me carry your suitcase,” Jota
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