Chapter 9: Live by the Gun

The Cyprianis were a ruthless gang of wild beasts. In a lot of ways, they were the antithesis of the Bargarattis. While the bargarattis prided themselves in being refined and honorable, the Cyprianis prided themselves in being violent and unpredictable. They were wild, fast, brutal, and rash.

In many ways, they were the answer to the cancer called the Bargarattis, a newer, younger gang fated to spell their downfall. And in the past ten years, they seemed to be making tremendous progress towards that goal.

Although the Bagarattis were still the biggest gang in Bane City, they couldn't deny that the Cyprianis posed a real threat to their dominance. All gangs in Bane City were a threat. All of them nipped at the heels of the Bagarattis, trying to gain territory and weaken their position. But the Cyprianis were more focused. It wasn't about money or territory. It was about taking the crown. They were focused on destroying the Bagarattis, and they geared most of their efforts towards the achievement of that goal.

Therefore, news of Baglor's presence at the abandoned Wayne Warehouse, with only twenty men surrounding him, was like a gift from the gods, an opportunity they couldn't pass up on. Diego Cipriani, leader of the Cipriani syndicate and madman superb, called on all the loyal soldiers he could reach out to and led a wild race through the streets toward their target.

They didn't bother with stealth or tactic, as that wasn't their way. They rushed in at full speed, swerved left and right, and unleashed a first spray of bullets with their Uzis, shooting with reckless abandon and wild brutality at their targets.

It all happened so fast for Kia. One minute, everything was silent. The next minute, the rumble of muscle cars filled the air. And then, with a roar, ten hellcats burst into the warehouse, five swerving to the left and another five swerving to the right. Shooters reached out through the window of the moving vehicles and pumped the Bargaratti circle with lead even as the cars swerved to a halt. The Cyprianis' vehicles formed a circle around the Bargaratti circle, caging the Bargarattis in.

In contrast to the wild excitement of the Cyprianis was the calm, collectedness of the Bargarattis. Like trained soldiers, they waited in cover as the Cyprianis drifted in, and shot at their vehicles. They waited tensely as the Cyprianis parked their cars and hopped out.

Each car produced four men, and soon, forty Cyprians formed a circle around the Bargarattis. There was a scary silence as the Cyprianis hopped out of their vehicles with their military booths slamming into the concrete ground with loud thuds. They began their march, closing in on their targets.

Kia tried to poke her head out to take a look. But she only got a glance at the men in brown leather jackets before she felt Baglor pull her back down as bullets flew through the space her head was.

The seconds of silence were deafening as the Cyprianis drew closer. But once they were in range, Baglor gave the order. With a loud roar that seemed to shake air and quake all hearts present, Baglor ordered his men to open fire. And then everything went loud.

This wasn't Kia's first rodeo. She had been in a good number of gunfights. But nothing like this, nothing of this scale. The usual gun fights she had engaged in were a few armed perpetrators shooting at cops as they tried to make an escape. But this, this was war. With machine guns on both sides firing constantly, the noise was endless and deafening.

She felt small and insignificant, a mere body in a sea of warriors and weapons. However, she couldn't simply hide. She wasn't going to infiltrate the Bargarattis if she merely cowered in fear. She needed to prove herself worthy of their patronage, worthy to be among them. There was also the fact that the Bargarattis were vastly outnumbered. They needed her help. However, how little she could help tip the scale in their favor.

And even if her help was irrelevant or insignificant, she simply had to give it anyway. Whether she liked it or not, tonight, she was on the side of the Bargarattis. And if they fell, she was going down with them. She didn't think the Cyprianis would give her a chance to explain that she was an undercover cop. And even if they did, they would surely kill her anyway.

Remembering her training and the fact that she was one hell of a shot, Kia took in a deep breath and let out a sigh. She poked her head out, praying to all the stars that it didn't get blown off.

The battlefield had changed. The Cyprianis had retreated behind their cars, suddenly realizing the value of cover under the retaliation of the Bargarattis. She saw a Cyprianis hiding and trying to reload his gun. Only a little bit of his arm was visible. As soon as he was done reloading, he moved out of cover to rejoin the fight. Their eyes met for a brief second. He raised his gun to aim, but he was too slow, way too slow.

She fired her weapon and sent a bullet through his skull. She wasn't shooting to apprehend or stop. She was shooting to kill. Emboldened by her success, Kia scanned the field for another target. She found one hiding behind a car door. Dropping into a prone position, lying flat, she aimed her target's foot and fired. The goon fell to the side, crying in pain as he held his bleeding foot. Lying on his side, his head was exposed, primed for the perfect shot. A bullet through the back of his skull silenced his scream of pain.

Once in the groove of war, she turned into a tiny beast. She moved from one side of the circle to another, putting Cyprianis down as she moved. She had just finished off her fifth target when she suddenly felt a powerful punch blow through her chest. The force flung her to the ground.

She lay there, unable to breathe. It felt like her lungs had collapsed, and her chest had caved in. She wondered if she had been shot once or twice simultaneously. The pain was out of this world. Every breath failed to give air, and the racing of her heart seemed to rise while reducing, like a deflated tire getting pumped but losing air.

"Was I shot twice or once," she tried to think again as wetness began to form under her back.

"Blood," she thought as her shirt got soaked underneath her leather jacket. She turned to her right, unable to move. Lying dead on the floor was Vajesh. The bastard had joined the fight and died for it. There were other bodies on the floor, stiff and lifeless. Dimitri was among them. His young, handsome face smiling even in death.

As she stared at his face, she wondered why she thought of him as so young. And then it hit her. Dimitri was nothing more than a teenager. Eighteen at best.

She chuckled, which coincided with a cough, sending blood spurting out of her mouth. "I'm dying and I'm worried about a gangster's age," she thought as her vision grew dark and her breath grew even more labored. She felt lightheaded as life sipped out of her. Dimitri had died smiling. She tried to find a reason to smile.

She closed her eyes and tried to find a happy place, a happy memory, something from her childhood. But nothing came up other than the stupid face of Baglor Bargaratti looking down on her with his annoyingly handsome smile. She tried to drive her thoughts away from him, to think of better things. But he was on her mind, imposing like a force, possessing her every thought. She died with a frown, hating his guts and his stupid, handsome face with its foolish, perfect smile.