Bang bang bang—
Gunfire roared nonstop through the park.
Under the cover of night, only clusters of muzzle flashes flickered in the dark.
Gus's crew and the Salamancas were deep in bloodlust now, both sides fighting like men with no way out, trading fire with everything they had.
"F*ck!"
In the car jammed up against a heap of rubble blocking the gate, even Mike finally swore.
They were surrounded on all sides by Salamanca gunmen. Even though Gus had brought more men, being caught in the middle meant they were taking heavier losses.
"Reverse! Back it up! A park this big doesn't have just one exit!"
Gus forced himself to stay calm, scanning the area. A semi‑auto pistol was clenched in his fist now; he was clearly ready to go down swinging.
Screech—
The car snarled as it spun around, tires screaming on the pavement.
Behind a curtain of covering fire from their men, the armored vehicle smashed its way deeper into the park, trying to break contact and shake the noose.
Gus watched the gunmen still chasing after them and ground his teeth.
That old fool Hector might be arrogant and unreasonable, but he would never dare start a full‑on war with Gus right in front of Fernando.
Both outfits survived in Chicago because the same Mexican supplier floated them cheap product. Neither side dared really piss off Mexico.
He had not expected Rorschach to actually be lying in wait—and to blow Hector's head off with a single shot.
Motherf*cker. If he had known that bastard was going to pull something like this, he should have finished him back at the house.
Boom—
As he cursed himself, another piercing rifle crack split the air outside.
A Salamanca gunman chasing the car toppled like a puppet with its strings cut.
Another shot. Another man dropped behind them.
Gus stared, stunned, and saw a figure in black camo with NVGs sliding through the trees like a hunting cat.
Every time he appeared, one trigger pull, one clean kill.
"Ro—schach!!!"
The instant he saw that silhouette, Gus knew exactly who it was. His composure snapped and he roared in fury.
"Run him down! Kill him!" he shouted at Mike.
Instead of obeying, Mike stamped the gas and steered even harder away from Rorschach, using the man's fire as cover while he drove in the opposite direction.
"Our boys can't hold much longer. We need his cover," he said quickly.
He did not wait for Gus's reaction, just floored it and tore deeper into the park, looking for another exit and ignoring the dealer's rage.
Gus was burning up inside, but survival came first. He could only hold his glare on Rorschach's shape in the trees.
Meanwhile, as the car carrying Gus roared away, Rorschach just sneered and stayed tucked behind his tree.
Bullets whipped through the air around him, but he sat still behind the thick trunk, calm enough to take his time lighting a cigarette.
He listened to the pattern of footsteps and gunfire behind him. When the timing felt right, he pulled a palm‑sized detonator from his jacket and thumbed the switch without hesitation.
The next instant—
Kablooey—
The blast shook the sky.
Behind him, a wall of fire tore into the night. Dozens of gunmen from both sides, completely unprepared, vanished into the flames.
The shockwave tore chunks of ground into the air, spraying flesh and stone in every direction.
A half‑blown‑off head rolled to a stop at Rorschach's boots, its eyes still bulging with unspent terror.
Rorschach lifted a finger to his lips in a mocking shush.
Then he burst from the underbrush, shouldered his rifle, and methodically finished off every gunman and dealer still twitching on the ground.
In seconds, dozens of blood‑red streaks lifted from the corpses and poured into him.
He did not rush to spend them on skill upgrades. He just checked his watch, dropped the empty rifle, swung his pre‑loaded shotgun onto his back, and set off at an easy lope in the direction Gus had fled.
That Black bastard's life could only be taken by his hand.
Inside the armored car, the speedometer was pinned.
Gus and Mike glanced back at the towering plume of fire, faces tight.
"Rorschach, that son of a…" Mike's voice shook. He knew now that from the second they entered the park, they had been inside Rorschach's kill box.
His personal kill box.
"That mutt must've come here hours before us. Motherf*cker, he planted that many charges…" Gus's face was white. If they had been any slower, they would have been vaporized.
Mike did not answer. Every nerve in his body was strung to breaking.
This was not some simple ambush.
Rorschach had clearly layered multiple tactics, probably running drills inside the park before tonight.
How else could he have called their retreat route after the gate went down, and buried explosives at just the right choke points?
"F*ck. I promised my granddaughter I'd be at her school play tomorrow…" Mike muttered.
Moments later, the park gate came into view again.
Both men exhaled without meaning to. Freedom was right there in front of them.
Then a taut silver wire stretched across the road at tire height snapped under the wheels.
Below the paving stones, five hidden grenades armed at once.
Boom—
The blast hurled the armored car into the air, then slammed it back down. It rolled several times before finally skidding to a stop.
No one knew how long it was before Gus came to. The first thing he heard was a dull, repeated thud above him.
He pried his eyes open and saw a shadow planted on the roof.
A man stood there, shotgun in hand, blasting away at the armored sunroof.
"R‑Rorschach…"
For the first time, real panic clawed through him.
Cracks spider‑webbed across the glass overhead. He could hear the harsh rasp of Rorschach's breathing just inches away.
Boom—
Another thunderous blast, and Gus felt the reinforced glass begin to give.
He clenched his teeth, hanging on to the last shreds of calm, grabbed his phone, and shouted upward, "Rorschach! If you kill me, none of your friends walk away from this! My men have them all right now!"
The gunfire above stopped dead.
Relief fluttered in his chest—right up until he heard Rorschach's voice come down through the glass, low and flat.
"Yeah? Then call them."
"You—"
"I said call them."
The bark slammed into him harder than the blast. Gus stared up into those cold eyes and, baring his teeth in a twisted grin, started dialing.
Seconds ticked by.
His smile froze.
Despair began to creep across his face.
No connection.
Not a single call went through.
(End of Chapter)
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