I can hear them scrambling frantically from behind the tree, but I don’t want to give them too long to re-group. So I jump out and sprint, still staying low. I fire as I move to the next cover.
One shot strikes Scarface again. He twitches and goes completely still.
The man with yellow teeth has his eyes on me. He shoots three times, but his bullets bury themselves in the trunk of the tree that’s giving me cover.
I fire a few return shots blindly, but none of them find the target.
Growling, I creep backwards into the darkness of the clustered trees to reload.
“Pendejo!” the leader yells, as he finally manages to get to his feet. “f*****g Russian. Where’d he go?”
“We should have brought Antonio and Javiero,” Yellow Teeth growls.
That comment sticks with me. If there are four here toda
