It took a couple of hours and the loss of some of his men before Smoke was able to finish the cleansing of the dark underbelly of the city. The place was now eerily silent, smoke filled the streets, pushing back the putrid stench that was previously there. Bodies littered the streets, some of them hacked to pieces, some were shot, all of them were dead.
Smoke gazed upon the c*****e that he had wrecked on the underworld with a smile on his face. This was one of those rare moments where he felt an immense sense of accomplishment. The only thing that could have gone better that night was if he had killed Lucien Drake.
No matter how many people Smoke had killed, tortured or persuaded with deals, none of them were able to give him an accurate description of Drake’s residence. By the end of
