Only now, I’m definitely not thinking of using anything I learn against them.
I’m more a part of their small, tight-knit group than I’ve ever been, and it feels… nice, even if it is weird.
Levi leans over and points to two locations on Sloan’s map. “These are their primary hang out spots,” he says. “Would it be a good idea to start there and fan out?”
“I don’t think they’d go back there so soon, though.” Sloan shakes his head. “It’s too obvious.”
“Or just obvious enough that they know we’d think of it and decide it’s too obvious, so that’s where they really are,” Rory puts in, grinning. He’s the only person I know who manages to still maintain any kind of sense of humor in situations like these.
Sloan rolls his eyes, clearly unamused. “We can’t wander into Jackal territory without being absolutely sure we know where we’re going. We’re going to be outnumbered, and they’ll be on guard for attacks. They know we want Alex and our fucking money back.”
“What about this,” Levi suggests, but before he can say whatever it is he’s thinking, his phone buzzes on the coffee table. He snatches it up and answers it quickly, listening intently to the person on the other end.
I can only make out the sound of a fast-talking male voice, so I wait with Rory and Sloan to see what news there is.
“Someone saw several Jackals and a man with a bag over his head,” he tells us after a moment. He leans forward again and points to a spot on the map. “Around here, about three hours ago.”
“Has to be Alex.” Rory’s lips curl in disgust. “Bold of them to just parade around with him like that.”
“They don’t know we have people everywhere,” Sloan says, dark satisfaction in his voice.
My heart rate spikes again. That’s good. He’s not dead, at least. Or at least he wasn’t dead a few hours ago when the informant saw him. But that means this is really happening. I’m about to walk into the middle of a gang war. I’m going up against hardened criminals to try to steal back a man they’re holding captive. A man that I put in that position myself.
My palms are sweaty, but I try not to let it show.
“Jackal territory,” Levi says, leaning in to look at the map. “And pretty deep in it.”
“We knew that was an option,” Rory replies. “We’re going to have to be careful.”
“No, we’re going to have to be fast,” Sloan interjects. “Hit them hard and fast, grab Alex and get the fuck out. They’re going to outnumber us, but that’s for the best.”
I give him a bewildered look because I have no idea how going in with just four of us is going to make this better. There could be any number of Jackals waiting, all armed and on their own territory.
“We can move faster in a smaller group,” Sloan explains, barely glancing at me. “We have less to coordinate. We stay together as much as possible and work as a team. We can do this.”
He sounds so sure, and the other two seem to take heart from that. He’s their leader, after all, so that makes sense. They nod, discussing points of entry to the number of businesses and buildings they know the Jackals control, clearly trying to see if they could figure out what we would be walking into.
I let them have it, listening so I won’t be caught off guard by anything that happens, but also sort of lost in my own thoughts. This is a whole new thing for me, and while the guys talk tactics and strategy like this is something they do every weekend, I have no idea how I’m going to be useful here.
The most I can really hope for is to stay out of the way and not make things worse, probably.
“Mercy,” Levi says, cutting into my thoughts. Around me, Sloan and Rory are getting up, closing their computers and moving into the next phase of whatever needs to happen before we head out. “Come with me.”
I nod and get to my feet, following him down to the basement. Most of it is taken up by the home gym that I love so much, but there’s a corner that they use for storage, piles of boxes and plastic crates stacked up against one wall.
Levi goes to one of those and pulls it down to the floor, popping the top to show off what’s inside. Vests, and heavy duty ones at that.
“Bullet proof,” he explains when he sees me watching him. “Just in case.”
Because there’s definitely going to be shooting, he means. I know that’s what he means. There’s no way there won’t be shooting.
I swallow hard and step closer when he beckons me, holding my arms out to let him fit the vest over my torso.
It’s a little big on me, probably bought to fit the guys and their much larger frames, but some protection is a whole lot fucking better than none at all.
“We’ll all have them,” he says, doing up the straps with practiced fingers.
My heart pounds in my chest. Everything they add to this makes it more real. We’re going deep into Jackal territory, and we have to be careful.
Levi runs his hands over the vest, checking to make sure it’s secured properly, and then steps back, but not too far.
“Have you ever shot a gun before?” he asks me.
I nod. “Yeah. My dad took me to a shooting range once.” I don’t mention that it was definitely a few years ago, but I can still remember most of what he taught me. I think.
Levi nods back, and I can see the worry in his eyes. He takes the gun he’s wearing from the waistband of his pants and steps even closer to me.
Quickly, he gives me a run down on firearms with the skill and knowledge of someone who’s had to use them a lot. He talks about how to reload, showing me the way to pop the magazine in and close it back up, and then spends a good few minutes talking about the safety and how to check if it’s on.
“Aim with a steady hand,” he says, demonstrating by holding the gun up and aiming it at the wall. “And let that steadiness carry into your arm. If you’re sloppy, you’ll miss, and if you miss, you might either hit something or someone you really wish you hadn’t, or…” He trails off, but I don’t need him to continue.
If I miss my target, it gives them a new chance to aim at me.
“Steady hand and arm,” I repeat. “I got it.”
We can’t shoot in the basement of course, but he hands me the gun anyway, and tells me to replicate the motions he made.
I go through the routine of reloading and checking the safety, and then I aim at the same wall he did, letting out a breath to try to steady myself.
It takes a second because my hand is definitely shaking, giving away how nervous I am about all of this. But eventually, I grit my teeth and will it to stop, carrying that steadiness up my arm and ending up with a solid aim at the spot on the wall.
Levi nods, walking around to the other side of me to check my form. “Not bad,” he says. “Lift up a little higher, and be ready for the recoil. That’s what always gets people who don’t use guns a lot. There’s a lot of force being channeled through a pretty small space. There’s going to be a lot of kickback.”
I remember that from the shooting range, and how surprised I was when it was my turn to shoot because my dad made it look so easy. His posture didn’t change one bit when he shot the gun at the target, and when it was my turn, I nearly hit myself in the face from the recoil.