Wife of a Mob Boss Ch. 03 - Sex Stories

Wife of a Mob Boss Ch. 03

... two men talk.

Americans. English accents.

They spoke of nothing of importance. Basketball. If they thought the Miami Heat were going to win tomorrow. Stopping beside the door, I heard clinking glass and coffee being poured. It wasn’t an office; it was a break room. Two men. Both their hands were busy, it sounded like. I clicked open my knife, moved it to my left hand, and kept the MP5 in my right.

Listening and waiting, I prepared myself for what was about to happen. I knew that this was when things could easily go downhill. The moment I heard the refrigerator open, I took the corner. I had to adjust my plans on the fly. The man with his head buried in the fridge was the closest man to the men and blocked the way to the second man, who sat at a table in the back of the room. His shotgun rested just out of reach on the kitchen counter. Pressing the muzzle of the submachine gun into the fridge man’s back, approximately where his spine was, I pulled the trigger twice and let him fall. His body cut the sound of the gunshots in half but made a mess as blood sprayed the room and my body.

The second man had lunged for his shotgun and had just laid two hands on it. He would get his shotgun on me before I could turn back the other way and point mine at him. Thinking fast and on my feet, I kept turning the way I had been turning and let go of my gun. Relying on my distance and a little luck, I whipped my left around with the knife in my fist like a pickaxe. The blade ...

... penetrated his chest and knocked his hands off the gun. Closing the distance, I covered his mouth with my right as I cut his throat with my left.

Easing his body to the ground, I listened intently for anything. Doors opening and closing, shouting in the distance. Anything that would show I hadn’t muffled my gunshots enough. Seconds turned into minutes, and I heard no other sounds. Looking down at my watch, I cursed to myself.

11:48 PM and the boat leaves at midnight…

Closing my knife once more, I once more pocketed it and started moving. My MP5 up, I cleared as I ran to the back of the building. Cutting through a warehouse, I saw out the back window a shipping container ship, and under the gray moonlight, I could read, ‘The Isabelle.’

This is it.

I saw no more guards between me and the ship, but there ought to have been. Either they were the ones I just gunned down, or there were more hidden somewhere. Either way, I didn’t have time to play this slow and cautious.

Zero-sum mission,I reminded myself.

Pushing out the door, I sprinted for the ship. I kept the MP5 locked tightly in my hands as I ran. My eyes shifted left, then right, and I saw no one. That made it all the more difficult when I was three-quarters on the way there, and the shooting began. Bullets snapped at my feet and chased after me. Changing my direction of travel so I would be harder to follow, I turned towards the shots and saw a man raised two stories up in a crane.

I fired ten shots ...