My own Target Practice

Thiago stepped forward and into Vital's line of sight. "We don't work for free."

Vital's grin widened, all charm. "Did I say that?" He held up his hand and his gun with it, in a conciliatory gesture. "Look, you're the best in the business, this recent fuckup notwithstanding."

He turned towards Davi, who was still holding up a gun to him. "You have your own code of honour, you only pick certain jobs, you give back to the community, I respect all of that." He held a hand up to his chest in fake piety.

Davi took it as mockery and snarled at him. "Then you know I'm not going to do whatever you want just because you're threatening us."

Vital's grin widened. "You won't need to. Believe me the jobs I have in mind are right up your alley."

"Then why not hire our services through the usual channels," Alina asked, lowering the machine gun to the floor and using it as a crutch.

"Well, you're a busy bunch," Vital said, "and if I forked over the kind of fee you requested for the last gig I'd be a poor man soon."

Thiago snorted. "Yeah, somehow I doubt it."

Vital ignored him, and winked at Alina with revolting swagger. "So here's my proposal, you do a string of gigs for me, high risk, high reward, and instead of your usual fee I get the friends and family discount."

Davi scowled. Ivo could see the muscles in his arm straining from how much he wanted to pull the trigger and empty the magazine in Vital's face. For once, he found that the two of them were of one mind.

Vital was either very brave or very stupid, because he ignored the danger he was in and reached one hand forward towards Davi. "Come on, it's a small price to pay for keeping your hideout secure. I'll even throw in some of the loot if you're successful." He nodded towards Ivo. "After all, you have another mouth to feed."

Thiago lowered his knives with a deep sigh. "Your call boss."

Alina kept her peace but her eyes were glowing while she ran checks on Vital. Either his firewalls were good or he wasn't afraid of what she could find.

Finally, with a disgusted growl Davi lowered his gun. "Fine, send over the details for the gigs. We'll have to recon in advance."

Vital grinned as wide as a shark. "Let's go slow, one gig at a time. I'll send you the info on the first one and we'll go from there."

Davi didn't reply but he started walking towards the door, intent on showing Vital out. Feeling gracious after his victory, Vital didn't overstay his welcome and followed after Davi.

"We'll be in touch," he said, patting Davi on the cheek, and then leaving through the open door and into the hallway.

The door slid shut behind him with a rattle. Davi banged his closed fist against it with a muffled, "Fuck!"

"What if this was his fucking goal from the beginning?" Alina asked, incensed. She waved the machine gun around in her anger. "Maybe there was never any prototype, and his goal was to trap us into working with him for a pittance!"

Davi inhaled deeply, pulling himself together. He jerked his head towards Ivo. "And what about him? Was he part of his plan too?" Before Ivo's stomach could drop to his feet Davi let out an annoyed huff. "No. Vital is a fucking weasel. He saw an opportunity and took it."

He said that last part looking directly into Ivo's eyes, who understood the implicit threat behind them.

Their current predicament was Ivo's fault, and Davi wasn't going to tolerate any more bullshit.

He swallowed drily and said, "I want to help. I can help." He met Davi's eyes briefly before looking instead towards Alina who he perceived as the friendliest of the group. "I want to find out more about what's happening with me. I can do that better with you guys than on my own, and in the meantime, I can help."

There was silence while they considered his words, and then Davi stalked towards him, his pale eyes blazing. Ivo thought he was going to be punched in the face when a fist closed around the front of his shirt making it ride up almost to his neck, but Davi just hauled him up close to his face.

"You better," he said, hissing the words almost into Ivo's lips.

---

"Why are we here?" Ivo asked, looking around at the dilapidated terrace, and trying not to feel dizzy from how high up they were.

Davi had filled a hug, blue plastic bag with guns, and then told Ivo to follow him out of the apartment. A tense elevator ride later, they were standing on the tower's terrace, littered with cigarette butts, old beer and soda cans, overlooking the blinking skyline of São Paulo, clouded by the film of dust hugging the horizon.

Davi reached into the bag at his feet and pulled out a gun seemingly at random. He looked it over and then handed it to Ivo. "We're practising."

Ivo took it with trepidation, surprised at how heavy it was. The way Davi and Alina handled them gave him the impression they weighted nothing at all.

Davi stepped away from him and picked up a few cans that he set on the edge of the railing, spacing them evenly. He got back to Ivo's side and pointed at them. "Try to hit them."

"They're too far," he said, narrowing his eyes at the cans, finding them too small a target for his untrained eye.

"Not for a bullet," Davi said, "Aim and shoot."

Ivo inhaled deeply and pointed the muzzle in the direction of the first can. He expected to miss and wasn't surprised when he did.

Davi clicked his tongue. "My turn now. You go stand there and balance that can over your head."

Ivo whipped his head towards him with an incredulous look. "What the fuck?"

"For each shot you miss I'm going to use you for my own target practice." He met Ivo' eyes with a challenge. "Let's see how fast you learn with the added incentive."