chapter 15

The Copperhead assault rifle, capable of firing up to 640 rounds per minute, was wielded with deadly precision in Karl's hands. Every bullet he fired found its intended target with ruthless accuracy.

One shot to the head and one to the heart. Each of the seven Maelstrom Gang members was "rewarded" with two bullets. In just two seconds, not a single enemy was left standing before Karl and his two companions.

"Awesome, mano!" Jack exclaimed, grinning despite his injuries. "Your shooting skills are insane!"

Jack, ignoring the gunshot wounds on his arm and thigh, tried to stand and check if any of the Maelstrom Gang members were still alive.

"Jack, take it easy," Oliver said, grabbing his arm to steady him. He inspected Jack's wounds and exhaled with relief. The bullets hadn't hit any vital areas. "You're bleeding out here. If you keep pushing, you'll lose more blood than you can afford."

Jack waved him off with a grin. "I'm fine! Worth it, as long as we got the job done. You've been hyping up Karl's skills all this time. Now I see what you meant."

"You're a lunatic," Karl muttered, shaking his head. He was genuinely baffled by how Jack could joke after being shot. "If their aim had been a bit better, you'd be dead."

"Don't worry, KK," Jack said with a shrug. "I protected my head and had my vest on. I wouldn't risk it if I wasn't sure."

"We need to get you better armor after this job," Oliver said. He felt a pang of guilt for being less useful in the fight. "I need to install some prosthetics myself soon. Watching you two handle everything while I just tag along makes me feel like dead weight."

"Your shooting is solid, Oliver," Karl interjected. "With some targeting enhancements, you'd do great with a sniper rifle. Support us from a distance."

"But my shooting isn't as good as yours, KK," Oliver replied.

"That's why I'm telling you to stick to a sniper rifle," Karl said with a smirk, hefting his Copperhead. "Leave this beast to me. Close-quarters combat is more my thing."

"Oliver could be our medic," Jack chimed in. "Look how good he is at patching people up."

Oliver shrugged. "My sister's a prosthetic doctor. I've picked up a thing or two from her."

His gaze shifted to a nearby surveillance camera, his expression hardening. "We need to move. This place is crawling with cameras. The rest of the Maelstrom Gang will be on us any second now."

"Let's hit another spot and take out a few more," Karl said. He scavenged grenades from the fallen enemies. "Once we've thinned their numbers, we'll leave one alive to interrogate. If I knew how to hack, or if we had a hacker on the team, this mission would be so much easier. We could block the cameras, grab the employer's box, and leave without all this noise."

"You're only thinking about making your life easier," Oliver replied, shaking his head.

Despite his complaints, Oliver helped Jack move, smashing the nearest camera with his pistol.

---

When the leader of the Maelstrom Gang, the Devil, arrived at the scene, all she found were the lifeless bodies of her seven comrades.

"Worthless idiots," she spat, seething with rage. "They couldn't even hold them off for a few minutes."

"Boss, there's blood over here!" one of her men called out, pointing to a faint trail.

The Devil's six prosthetic eyes glinted as she followed the blood trail. "This way," she ordered. Her men, weapons at the ready, followed her down the passage.

Moments later, as they turned a corner—

BOOM!

A grenade exploded, engulfing the leading gang member in a fireball. Those further back were hurled to the ground by the shockwave, their limbs mangled. One landed at the Devil's feet, missing an arm.

"Damn it! It's a trap!" she growled.

---

The explosion's echo hadn't faded when Karl, holding his Lexington pistol, turned back to assess the damage.

Jack's injuries had just been bandaged by Oliver, so there was no way the blood trail was from him. The blood had come from the piece of cloth Karl had soaked in the pool of blood near the Maelstrom Gang's corpses. He had used it to create a false trail, wringing it out every few steps to lure the gang into the trap Oliver had set.

Oliver's experience with the Sixth Street Gang had taught him how to make simple but effective booby traps.

"Oliver, stay with Jack. I'll handle the rest," Karl instructed, moving toward the aftermath of the explosion.

The Devil's crew had dwindled. Seven had died in the first firefight, and the grenade had taken out most of the others. Now, only four gang members remained, including the Devil herself.

Karl's Lexington barked in the narrow hallway, taking down three of them in rapid succession. He only realized he needed a survivor after the last one fell.

The Devil, however, wasn't so easy to kill. A bullet aimed at her head struck metal and ricocheted off with a loud clang.

"Just my luck," Karl muttered, realizing she was heavily augmented. His mind flashed to Jack's earlier comment:

"The Lexington can't even penetrate the cheapest subdermal armor."

The Devil turned her red cybernetic eyes on Karl, rage radiating off her as she leveled her shotgun.