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The guy in red drops my Glock. He reaches for his pistol under his tracksuit top.
I shoot him in the left thigh. He collapses and yells. But still goes for the gun. He's right-handed, so I put another bullet in the same shoulder.
His mate in black wrestles me for his gun. He's a strong bastard and throws me against a purple Cadillac. He takes aim with the pistol, but I reverse the barrel in his hands as he pulls the trigger.
He puts two rounds in his own guts and drops like a sack of spuds.
But no sooner have I got control of the gun, than it's knocked from my hand by a tyre iron. My hand stings. I turn and see Alejandro taking another swing. I land a fist on his chin and he's out like a light.
I shake out my hand. But another pair of mechanics join the fight. One picks up the tyr
