I peeked around the corner, watching as the armed man pointed to his mask, then to the direction the noise occurred. He placed his hand over his ear with his back to me.
Thunder rolled through the sky, rattling the building. Snake glanced up at the ceiling, then nodded. I turned and peered down the other side of the aisle, spotting the other Arctic gunman working his way through the racks of clothes.
I stayed low, hidden from sight, waiting for my moment to strike if need be.
“Contact,” a muffled voice shouted.
Gunfire echoed inside the store, followed by a crashing sound. I turned toward the noise, spotting a white light playing over the ceiling, then vanishing.
Shit. Jackal.
Snake double timed it down the aisle, moving fast. I fired a single round, hitting him square in the back. He tumbled forward to the floor, hitting hard. Snake stirred on the ground, signaling he wasn’t dead.
Heavy footfalls rushed toward me down the other side of the aisle. A rifle barked from close by, firing at the steel shelves near me. I couldn’t spot the triggerman within the low light.
The rounds pinged off the surface. I covered my head, waiting for the shooting to cease.
I retrieved the Push Dagger from my coat as the gunfire ceased. I popped off two rounds in his direction before the heater clicked empty. I tossed the piece, then spun around the corner of the shelf.
He hunched over. The barrel of the rifle trained toward the floor as he palmed his ribs. He stumbled about, his gaze flitting up to me. I closed in fast and went to work.
The rifle lifted in my direction. I kicked it to the side. He squeezed the trigger. Another round fired, pinging off the tile floor. I stabbed him in the side, below the ballistic vest.
The blade sunk into his body. I pulled it out and struck again. I caught a hint of his pain-riddled face through the mask he wore.
He landed a glancing blow across my jaw, then shoved me back before collapsing to one knee. I grabbed the strap of his rifle and yanked it from his body. His palm pressed to the floor, head dangling before me.
Snake emerged from the other end of the aisle, his rifle shouldered and trained in my direction. The light from his gun washed over my face.
I retreated. Snake opened fire. I moved through the cluttered mess of the shop while covering my head. The incoming rounds chased after me, destroying what remained of the glass display case.
I hit the floor and hid behind an empty steel shelf. I sat flat on my ass and slouched against the rack. Bullets pinged off the surface while some punched through the peg board above my head.
The gunfire stopped. A slight ringing filled both of my ears. I held the rifle close, glancing to either side for any shadowy figures advancing through the low light.
The grumbling of an engine lurked from outside the store. Tires squealed. Chatter among the militant men loomed inside the shop. They held back near the front of the store.
I got my feet under me, staying low and out of range of their weapons. I pocketed the dagger and toed the edge.
“Get your damn hands off me,” Jackal said angrily.
I captured snippets of bodies moving past the racks of clothes and shelves that sat in my way. The beams of light traced around the open door, then down the aisle in my direction.
Jackal stood at the far end of the aisle. One of the foot soldiers stood at his six, holding him at gun point. The muzzle of the soldier’s sidearm pressed to Jackal’s temple. He stood a few inches taller than Jackal and peered over his shoulder. The gas mask hid his face, making him appear sinister.
“Throw your weapons down and come out with your hands up, or I’m going to decorate the floor with his brains, then I’m coming back there for you.” The mask distorted his voice.
“Don’t do it.” Jackal pulled his head away from the barrel. “There’s only—”
The foot soldier slammed the side of his pistol against Jackal’s skull. “Shut it.”
I shouldered the rifle, but stayed behind the cover of the aisle, assessing the situation.
Snake carried the man I’d stabbed and shot through the opening, taking the brunt of his bulk across his shoulders. Another vehicle came to a screeching halt next to the idling truck. Two more men rushed the entrance with rifles shouldered and held positions near Jackal and the foot soldier holding him.
“What’s the play here, Charlie?” one of the armed men asked, looking to the masked man holding Jackal at gun point.
Charlie held up his hand, silencing any further chatter.
“How about this? You let my partner go and we won’t kill all of your men,” I shot back. “I can promise you this, you have no idea who you’re messing with. Leave now before you suffer further losses.”
The muzzle pressed harder against Jackal’s head. “I’m afraid you don’t know who you’re messing with, but rest assured, you will find out. One does not simply walk away when his kin and brothers in arms have been slain.”
“Will you kill him already?” Jackal said, unafraid. “I’m growing tired of listening to him drone on and on.”
Charlie removed the muzzle from the side of Jackal’s head, then lifted his arm into the air. “I said, shut your—”
Jackal turned and rammed his elbow into the man’s face, knocking him off balance. The pistol discharged. The round punched the ceiling above Jackal’s head.
I searched for a shot, but couldn’t find one with Jackal blocking my way.
Charlie blocked Jackal’s right cross, knocked his arm down, kneed him in the gut, then hammered Jackal’s chin with his fist. Jackal stumbled backward,
