Read Chapter 26: The Ambush

The warehouse smelled of brine and rot. Jack stepped through the loading door with Foley at his shoulder, three more men trailing behind, and the emptiness hit him before the door slammed shut.

“Where is he?” Foley muttered.

Jack scanned the cavernous space. Crates stacked to the rafters, but no sign of Frank. No sign of anyone. The single bulb hanging from the center beam swung slightly, as if someone had brushed past it moments ago.

“He’s here,” Jack said, keeping his voice flat. “He wants the theater.”

A sound from above. Boots on the catwalk. Jack looked up and saw the shapes detach from shadow—six, eight, a dozen men rising from behind the crates on the upper level. Rifles glinted in the weak light.

Then Frank stepped out from behind a stack of whiskey crates on the ground floor, thirty feet away. He was smiling, and that smile was worse than any gun.

“Brother,” Frank said, spreading his arms. “You really thought I’d let you live?”

Jack didn’t move. Foley’s hand twitched toward his coat.

“The letter,” Jack said. “You said you’d bring it.”

Frank laughed, and it echoed off the corrugated walls. “The letter? You think I’d trade the only thing keeping you on a leash? No, Jack. I brought you here because you made yourself weak in front of everyone. And weak men die.”

Frank’s hand came up and dropped. The first shot came from above, catching Foley in the shoulder. He spun, grunted, and raised his own pistol, firing blind at the catwalk. A body tumbled over the railing and hit the floor with a wet crack.

“Go!” Jack shouted, drawing his revolver and firing two quick shots toward Frank. But Frank was already moving behind cover, his voice carrying over the din of gunfire.

“Waste them! Waste them all!”

Jack grabbed Foley and dragged him toward the side door. His other men—Callahan and Duffy—laid down cover fire, emptying their revolvers into the darkness above. A bullet whistled past Jack’s ear and punched a hole in the wall beside him.

“Door’s locked,” Duffy said, kicking the steel handle.

Jack’s eyes found the loading bay on the far side. Overhead door, rusted, but it had been opened recently—he could see the fresh scratches in the dust. He fired twice at the mechanism, and a cable snapped.

“Make for the bay,” Jack ordered. He shoved Foley ahead, and they ran low, bullets chewing the concrete around their heels. Callahan went down with a cry, clutching his leg. Jack pivoted, fired twice at the muzzle flashes above, and grabbed Callahan’s collar, hauling him forward.

“Leave him,” Foley said through gritted teeth.

“No.” Jack pulled harder. Callahan was bleeding fast, but Jack wouldn’t lose another man to Frank. Not tonight.

Frank’s voice rang out again. “You see, Jack? This is how it ends. A rat in a trap. I told you once—you should’ve stayed dead in the water.”

Jack reached the loading bay and slammed his shoulder into the rusted handle. Nothing. He fired at the lock, and the door rattled but held. Above, a man dropped to the floor with a knife in his teeth, rushing them.

Duffy turned and took the charge point-blank. The knife caught him in the chest, but Duffy’s pistol fired at the same instant, and both men collapsed in a tangle of blood and breath.

“Duffy!” Jack screamed.

Duffy’s eyes found Jack’s for half a second. He tried to speak, but his throat gurgled instead. Then his head lolled.

Jack stood. Something inside him went cold and quiet. The gunfire behind him faded to a dull hum. He looked at Frank’s silhouette across the warehouse floor.

“You remember the river, Frank?” Jack called, his voice calm. “You remember who pulled you out when the current took you?”

Frank hesitated. Behind him, his men paused their reloading.

“I remember you left me to drown,” Frank said.

“No.” Jack stepped forward, away from the shelter, into the open. Bullets could take him at any moment. “You pulled yourself out. But I was there. I was always there. And now I’m going to be the last thing you see before you die.”

Frank’s jaw tightened. He raised his pistol and took aim. Jack didn’t flinch.

The side door burst open. A hail of machine-gun fire filled the warehouse—Rebel fire from Frank’s own direction. But it wasn’t Frank’s men shooting. It was Mickey and the rest of Jack’s crew, who had circled through the alley after Jack told them to park the cars three streets over and approach on foot.

The catwalk men scattered. Frank’s face twisted with rage.

“Kill them both!” Frank shouted.

Jack caught Foley’s eye and nodded at the bay door. Foley fired twice at the hinges, and the rusted metal finally screamed open. The cold night air rushed in.

“Go,” Jack said. “Go!”

He grabbed Foley, and they stumbled out into the alley, dragging Callahan between them. Bullets clipped the corbels overhead. Jack felt a white-hot lance in his side—something burning, tearing, and then his hand came away red.

He kept running.

Behind him, the warehouse erupted. Muzzle flashes lit the windows. A body slammed into the alley wall three feet from Jack—one of Frank’s brutes, thrown clear by the gunfight inside. Jack kept his feet, gripped his side, and ran until the warehouse was a speck in his peripheral, until his lungs burned with salt air and blood.

They found the cars. Mickey had the engine running. The crew piled in.

“Go, go, go!” Foley shouted.

Mickey stomped the gas. The car swung out of the alley, and the warehouse shrank behind them. No pursuit.

Jack slumped in the back seat, hand pressed tight to his side. The red soaked through his fingers. He looked at Foley, whose shoulder bled freely into his coat.

“Duffy?” Jack asked.

Foley shook his head.

Jack closed his eyes. He saw Duffy’s face in that last moment—not fear, not anger, just a simple, quiet acceptance. He saw Frank’s grin before the bullets flew.

He opened his eyes.

“This ends,” Jack said. “Not because the letter says so. Not because of any deal. I’m going to burn Frank Malloy out of this world myself.”

Foley looked at him, face pale, and nodded.

The car hit the bay road and rumbled east. Behind them, the warehouse lights flickered and died.