Yeah, when I drove away from the Seabury and O’Conner, I was spouting bullshit like I knew what I was doing. Truth be told, I knew this play was risky, but I couldn’t think of another way to go. Even if I found a place to hide, how long would I last? What happened when Antonio found Adele and Sally? My only option lay in the information about Antonio’s drug dealing. Getting the good guys to take the gangster out seemed the only viable solution. Sure, I wanted this place to be a game that would reset if I made a mistake, but I’m damn sure that’s not happening.

The drive to Antonio’s warehouse started off poorly as the rain came down hard and I noticed the dark building already had a car sitting by the entrance. I drove by and went up several blocks before backtracking. Finally, I parked a block away from the address, beside a small vacant warehouse with a large sign nearby. The occasional knocks and pleas to be released told me they were still alive. I pulled out my .45 Colt and opened the trunk. I was hard to see them, but the smell of piss greeted me.

“Get out,” I said as I took a step back.

When the men finally rolled out of the trunk, both of them had difficulty standing from the cramps in their legs. I listened to their complaints and groans for a bit, then told them to shut up. I had already written off any humanity about these characters in my mind. These bastards would happily break my bones for their boss.

“Start walking to the warehouse. I’m calling your boss in, so if you want to stay alive long enough to see him, don’t do anything stupid. Just think of this as a trade.”

The last line made me smirk since I wanted to throw them off on my intentions. If they considered this a swap for their lives, they might be slightly less dangerous to me. They limped away from the car and stepped on the sidewalk, which ran alongside the small warehouse as the rain intensified. As we walked by a large fading sign that claimed there was space for rent, I remained a couple of steps behind them. I kept my other hand in my pocket. Holding one of their revolvers in my other hand comforts me.

Hell yes, I was cautious. My freaking hands are shaking, and my nerves feel like overstretched piano wire since I’m expecting the worst as every second ticks by.

When we reached the backside of Antonio’s warehouse, I had the men stand by the side of the building. Then I looked around at the car pulled into a parking spot near the large entrance door. It didn’t appear that anyone was sitting in the car. Turning back, I waved the men forward and pointed them to the smaller door where the employees entered.

“Let’s go inside so we can wait for your boss.”

When the men in front of me entered the warehouse, I noticed the darkness in the extensive building. The lights hanging down from the ceiling gave off a yellow glow that barely illuminated the area. I heard someone call out, and a door opened. Quickly, I closed the distance to Johnny and put the barrel of my gun to his spine.

“Answer him!” I said, while pulling out my other pistol.

“Slim, it’s Johnny. You got a card game going?”

“Yeah, come on up,” the voice said.

“You heard him,” I whispered while my nervous tension wanted to suddenly give a hysterical laugh.

We walked slowly toward an office that sat at the top of stairs. The rest of the warehouse looked mostly empty but for plenty of shadows. There were a few crates I could see, their wooden frames piled near the stairs.

When we reached the stairs, the voices upstairs made me realize how much of a bind I’m in now. A large window that allowed the people in the office a view of the warehouse floor. So far, they weren’t looking out at the people climbing the stairs. Outnumbered by at least four to one, I knew I’d never go to Vegas with those odds and now my life is hanging on the balance.

Fuck, I hate this; I thought grimly.

“Come on, Johnny, I need your money,” the voice called out from above.

I pushed Johnny and his friend forward as I took a deep breath.

When we reached the top of the stairs, Johnny finally made his move. I was half-expecting something to happen with each step, but he still surprised me. Since I was still a step below him, the big man swings at me, aiming for my chest but catches the top of my shoulder. I didn’t see the knife he held, but the pain in my shoulder was authentic enough. My .45 went off at the same time, sending him reeling into his friend.

I made the mistake of checking my shoulder briefly, then a shot rang out from the office door. Swinging around my Colt, I fired two times into a figure standing in the office door. I didn’t see if I hit anything, since the incoming shots made me crouch down. Still on the stairs, I see that the open steel railing won’t give me cover. Hurrying to the floor leading to the office, I jumped over Johnny’s body. However, the thug who lay under his partner suddenly grabbed my leg, which sent me sprawling. The next thing I know, the bastard has my leg and is trying to stab me with Johnny’s knife. Instinctively, I stomped out using the heel of my shoe, catching him in the head just before he castrated me.

When I swung the revolver toward him, my injured arm shook so badly that the shot went wide of the mark. However, when he lifted himself to swing the knife again, his brain splattered across my shoes from my second shot.  

I rolled away, groaning as my shoulder felt on fire. Pressing myself against the wall, I’m near to the office door. However, I remained conscious of the fact that it would only get worse. The person who I asked Alice to call was Antonio. He’d come running with more of his men pretty soon.

The light inside the office went out as the gun battle started, so the darkness extended over the area. As I lifted my head to look through the window above me, it suddenly exploded from outgoing bullets.

Fuck!

The disadvantage I held was getting worse. I’m not a hero and I don’t have body armor, so there’s no damn way I’m rushing into that room. Deciding that retreat was the only option, I quietly backed away. The dim light filtering through the area made it difficult to see me as I slowly backed down the stairs. With each step creak, I expected shots to head my way. Worse, I’m getting woozy enough that I’m forced to use the railing to keep from falling. About half-way down, I hear the muffled sound of a car motor near the warehouse entrance.

It just got worse!

When the engine noise stopped, I knew I was between the devil and the deep blue sea. Throwing any caution to the wind, I suddenly hurried down the stairs. When I reached the bottom, two men stepped out of the office and began firing at me. The ricochet of bullets hitting the concrete floor made me move faster than I thought possible. But I dove behind a forklift as the ricochet of lead bullets cascaded around my position. I’m trying to catch my breath when the front door in the warehouse opens, and I see men rushing inside.

The goons standing at the top of the stairs believe the intruders are on my side. I’m certainly not going to tell them anything as they open up, sending their shots toward those running into the warehouse. Within seconds, a gunfight breaks out between Antonio’s thugs.

While I’m watching from ringside, I glance down at my watch. My calculations are off. Antonio arrived early, which means I have no choice but to keep his men hopping for a while. I started searching around the forklift for the ignition switch when one thug from the door started running toward my position. He doesn’t see me since he’s firing his pistol toward the office above. At the last minute, he spots me, but I’ve been waiting. My gun goes off and he drops.

Dumb move, idiot!

Then, all hell breaks loose as the men in the doorway aim my way. I duck down behind the machine and keep praying that the D.A. and his police friends arrive soon. A heavy volley of shots finally takes down the two men up in the office. As the goons spread out, they keep shooting at the forklift, which keeps me pinned down. Finally, the gunfire stopped, and I heard Freddie Antonio’s voice.

“Is that you Dagger?”

I edge my head around the heavy steel masts that lift the front forks, peering toward his voice. Antonio is standing there in a white suit with four of his men near him. Looking around, I see at least two more working their way over to flank me. I decide to delay my death for a bit longer by talking.

“Yeah, thanks for stopping by,” I yell out. “You did a good job getting rid of your own men upstairs.”

“They get paid well for the risks. However, you’re in a bad spot. Did you really think I would exchange two of my guys for you to walk away? Shamus, that’s not in the cards.”

Glimpsing his movement to away from the door, I frown since I still can’t get a good shot even if I was a marksman. I shake my head from growing fatigue as the fear induced adrenaline running through me declines. I pull out the two revolvers I took from his two goons and place them on the floor next to me.

“But I’ll give you the opportunity to die quickly if you tell me where that Vaugh bitch is at. I still haven’t gotten my fill of that sweet ass. Hell, I might even decide to use your wife with her if you don’t talk.”

His words pissed me off, and I took out my anger on a thug running to a crate in my line of sight. The .45 bullet hit him.

Son of a bitch!

I see the bastard thug still crawling into the shadows on my right flank. Another volley of incoming shots strikes the steel machine that’s protecting me while forcing me to stay down.

“You know what? I’m kind of tired of your ego crap,” I yelled out. Then I moved to the back of the machine and pointed the revolver at Antonio. I quickly fired off the rest of the bullets. I didn’t hit him, but I smiled with satisfaction that the cocky bastard had to dive for cover.

However, I didn’t account for one of his men having a shotgun. The son of a bitch blasted the back of the forklift twice. The first round sent several pellets bouncing off the concrete, embedding into my leg. Pain rocking me, I didn’t notice the second blast strike the fuel tank above me.

No, kiddies, this isn’t a movie. Lead pellets hitting a fuel tank don’t make it explode. Instead, you find your butt sitting in fuel as it spills down the forklift and spreads across the floor.

My options at this point were to die a fiery death when someone tossed their lighter this way. Or I could die in a hail of bullets. However, I didn’t get to decide when I noticed the small flame of a lighter sailing toward me. I frantically limped across the open floor toward a nearby crate as the flames shot upward amid more bullets flying. The blue flame was following me as the fuel slid toward the closest crate near me.

The guardian angels apparently heard my prayers since I made it without additional holes in my body. However, I left the other loaded revolver by the flaming machinery, and I’ve only got a few shots left in my .45 before I must reload. Also, my position isn’t any better now. The flames are giving my enemies better light to aim at me.

As if to prove the point, a bullet strikes a couple of inches away from my head. The wood splinters and I hear Antonio order his men to surround me.

“Kill him before that dope goes up in flames, you damn fools!”

I glance at the crate and realize that I forgot about the drugs. So, my little black book was accurate again. Too bad the damn thing probably got me killed, I thought. I shot toward one henchman trying to flank me. My accuracy is getting worse, then I noticed that I’m getting dizzy.  

When I look at the trail of blood following me in the firelight, the reason becomes obvious. It looks like Johnny might have killed me with his knife. My scattered thoughts tell me that I’m losing too much blood as the dizziness returned with an overwhelming certainty. I slid down on my butt next to the crate as an unyielding lethargy took hold. The sudden quiet filling the warehouse gradually sinks in. I glimpse over my shoulder at the men slowly emerging from the shadows. It’s clear they no longer consider me a threat. Even Antonio has a smile on his ugly face when he sees my vain attempt to point my gun at him. The .45 drops from my hand as I hear a distant whirring sound. My brain wants to believe it’s a police siren, but I can’t believe it. Instead, I thought of two women sitting in a hotel. Their lovely faces fill my vision. The truth is, I’m ashamed that I can’t keep my promise.

“I’m sorry!” I’m not sure if I spoke the words to the images in my head.

I guess that I’ll soon find out what Hell is really like!

Author's NOTE:  Thanks to everyone for reading my story to the end of the first arc. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy the writing. As a shameless plug, I hope you'll consider funding this story (and others that are coming soon). A Patreon page with extra items and benefits is available. Get early access to chapters, plus download pdfs of the major arcs and get individual illustrations of the characters for those paying supporters on Patreon.