“Like I said, I mean you no harm. I will be on my way now,” Cap said as he started to back across the street, expertly keeping all five men in front of him.
“Well, if you’z gunna be unsociable like man, then perhaps we just gunna take what you gots,” the tall man at the car said as he reached behind his back and pulled out a large shiny silver pistol.
The thug pointed the gaudy pistol at the Captain and continued, “Now I asked nicely, but howz ’bouts you just drop that bag down. If you’z lucky, maybe I will not pop a cap in you’z dumb-ass cracker head…muthafucker.”
The skinny dipshit held the gun sideways like the movies, so Lee mentally gave him the name of “Hollywood.”
Cap froze and put his hands forward in a nonthreatening manner. “Okay now, man, just calm down. If you want this bag so bad, you can fucking have it. It is just my dirty laundry.”
Lee was having bad visions of how this would likely play out. He figured this was going to get ugly fast. He doubted they would let the Captain go unharmed. In fact, Lee was certain they would probably shoot him regardless. Therefore, he slowly crouched down and moved slowly and quietly along the parked cars. He made his way around two cars getting closer to the confrontation going on in the street. He slinked up behind the trunk of a parked car and drew the 9 mm. He considered removing his pack but did not want to risk losing it. Keeping the bag on, he felt for the extra mags in his left pocket, making sure they would be easy to retrieve.
As the Captain slowly removed his pack an ugly blathering of racist and slang words came from the five thugs. The assholes were talking shit now as Cap surrendered the pack. While removing the pack, he had continued moving slowly back from the three younger idiots. Lee guessed the Cap was hoping to drop the pack and haul ass. The Captain probably decided it was better to be alive without anything versus just plain dead.
As Cap slid off the pack and set it down, Lee positioned the 9 mm on the trunk of the car and steadied it with a two-handed pistol grip. Hollywood was twenty-five to thirty yards away, making for a difficult shot for the little Ruger LC-9. Nevertheless, Lee figured he had to try. Lee hoped if he could get off a few shots, the idiots may all run like the druggies on the railroad tracks. If the group all started running from the gunfire, Cap might just get away without getting shot. Lee hoped with the car as a shield plus Hollywood, not knowing how to aim a pistol would give him an advantage. At least for several seconds. Lee steadied the gun and aimed it at the side of Hollywood’s head. Knowing the LC-9 trigger pull was a foot long, Lee made a mental note to squeeze the trigger. Don’t jerk it.
Cap was still slowly trying to move away, but just then Hollywood said, “Where you fucking going, man? We aint’z done with you’z honky chicken shit gleaming white ass yet.”
“Say goodbye, fucker.” Hollywood lifted the silver pistol up directly at Cap.
Hollywood was going to shoot, so Lee held his breath and squeezed the trigger on the little 9 mm. His grip was steady on the trunk lid, and the iron sights of the pistol lined up with the side of Hollywood’s head. However, just as the trigger snapped and the pistol went off; the fat, ugly woman moved forward and into the line of fire. That was her shitty luck as the round was already heading down range. Blood and screams erupted. The round removed most of the fat woman’s nose off her fat round face as it flew by at high speed. Not hitting a major bone on the woman’s face, the bullet continued straight, hitting Hollywood right below his right ear. His head flew sideways as the gun dropped from his hand, and he slumped over headed for the asphalt. Lee squeezed off another round in the same direction, hitting Hollywood again as he slumped to the ground. The fat woman fell back against the front of the car blocking one of the headlights while screaming like hell and holding her now noseless face. Lee slid the gun quickly right and lined up the sights on the closest of the other three thugs. As soon as the sights of the small gun lined up, he squeezed off two quick rounds and that asshole dropped to the ground.
The remaining two men were too close to the Captain for Lee to safely take a shot. It did not matter. When his first shot had gone off, the three had frozen in place, not understanding what had just happen to their dipshit leader. Cap reacted quickly moved forward, grabbing the arm of the club-wielding thug and yanking him forward and past. Expertly, Cap pulled the arm back and around thrusting it up behind the man. The shocked idiot screamed out in pain from the probable dislocated or broken shoulder. The last man did not wait around. He turned and ran like a running back of the NFL and headed into a large parking lot of a store.
Hollywood was lying motionless and did not appear to be breathing. Lee assumed he was dead. The woman was screaming like a banshee, and blood was spurting from her face like a showerhead. Lee ran from behind the car heading toward Cap. Cap looked at Lee holding the 9 mm and the two throbbing jerks lying at his feet. He realized this stranger had intervened just in time. Lee moved close to the screaming woman and Hollywood. The side of his head was a mess, and a large pool of blood was forming. The low-life bully would not threaten anyone again. Lee reached down, picked up the chrome pistol, and moved toward the Captain.
“Thanks, man. I think you saved my ass,” the Captain said.
“No problem. These crap sacks were already assholes. But they decided to become super assholes because the shit has hit the fan,” Lee replied.
Cap reached out his hand to shake the savior’s hand, but instead Lee handed him the ghetto pistol and said, “Take this. I assume you know how to use it.”
“Shit, yes,” Cap said.
Cap examined the semiautomatic pistol pulling back the slide to see if a round was in the chamber. Then popping out the mag, he examined it to find it had a full fifteen rounds. This meant Hollywood never got off a shot.
“Nine millimeter,” said Cap.
“That is lucky, same as mine,” Lee replied.
Lee and the Captain heard a commotion from the store parking lot the thug had run to. Loud shouting was coming from a large group of people who were gathering. The crowd was building and starting to move toward Lee and Cap. The woman on the ground had quieted some as shock set in, but she stirred as she heard her fellow losers heading over.
“We best get the fuck out of dodge,” Lee said while turning and heading down the street.
“Agreed,” Cap said, as he scooped up his pack and took off alongside Lee.
They heard the loud voices from the approaching crowd. “Those mothas killed YZ.”
“Let’s go fuck them up,” another from the mob chimed in.
The angry yells and screams started rolling together, but nothing sounded good.
Cap and Lee were double-timing west down the cross street. Lee’s age was quickly becoming a hinder to the younger and faster man. He was too old for running at speed for long with sixty pounds of gear. Cap was starting to pull ahead, but he slowed, and then reaching back, grabbed Lee’s chest strap, helping to pull him along. They continued running down a long block, making a left turn on the next cross street. At the next corner, they turned to the right and across the street, heading toward a row of industrial buildings. Looking back as they made the corner, they could see about ten people, including a couple of people on bicycles chasing them.
Lee and the Captain ran along past several buildings. They were crossing a driveway between two large buildings leading to the back parking lot. A large chain link gate was open slightly. Cap stopped abruptly and pointed. “This way.”
The two men slid through the gate, and Cap closed it behind them. Cap stopped and wrapped the lock chain around the two gateposts. He hoped this would fool the chasing thugs into believing the gate was locked. Lee had already started down the driveway, and Cap closed the distance behind him. As they ran between the buildings, they could see flashlights bouncing off buildings in the street and shouting at the mob as they kept up the pursuit.
Making it to