[Five District — First Street]
Lola lay on her stomach on top of the roof with a huge smile on her face. She covered her mouth to avoid squealing like a little girl. However, she couldn’t help tilting her head sideways as pink dust floated around her.
"My husband’s just really cool," she mused while her feet alternately moved to and fro, giggling as she cupped her cheek. "Had I known he would be the one guessing, I would’ve done a finger heart instead."
That would make her heart flutter for sure, especially if Atlas had done that. Now, Lola knew exactly what she’d ask him to do once this was all over.
This was not the time to fangirl over her husband, but she couldn’t help it. This was her first mission for the Order, and she was doing it with her husband. She would be able to see him in action—who wouldn’t want to see that?
"Hey, there’s nothing here!"
The smile on her face stiffened as her feet stopped swaying. Her brows rose slowly as she stretched her neck, checking the situation below. The streets were still busy, people coming and going in a hurry.
It was a continuous party over there.
"Right." Her face twisted, her nose scrunching up. Her frown deepened, eyes drooping with utter displeasure. "I can’t squeal for my husband because of these guys."
She was Atlas’s biggest fan, and the most disappointing thing for her was not being able to cheer for him. The reason was because of these guys, who were obstructing her from expressing her love and support.
"Tsk. Damn it." She clicked her tongue, huffing heavily. She reached for her earpiece, switching it to a different channel.
At this point, she knew Jarvis would’ve left the line, and that Atlas’s men weren’t crazy enough to blindly listen to their boss’s orders. For sure, they might not cut Jarvis off out of pride and inflated ego, but they would’ve created a new channel.
"Connect me to Florida and Ransom," she ordered, immediately hearing a response.
Florida answered, "Madam, I’m here. Ransom and I will be going out of the underground with the Gigante men. As for the injured Bellemonte men, we’ll be leaving them with Long."
"Also, Ransom broke his comms," he added in a grim tone. "And I’ve already reported our situation in here."
"I see." Lola rocked her head in understanding. "Then do that... fast."
"Huh?"
"I need you to do that fast," she repeated. "The guys with me are already heading to the bar. Once they make their move, help them. The majority of the men are on the west side, anyway. It’ll be a quick win."
"Got it," Florida said, nodding, only to pause and knit his brows. "Madam, where are you? Aren’t you joining the attack?"
"Oh, I will." Lola peeked over the roof again. "That’s why you need to move fast. Once you take control of the bar, spread out and prepare for an ambush. After all... they’ll be rushing back there pretty soon."
A glint flickered in Florida’s eyes as he nodded in understanding, assuming Lola meant that once things started moving, reinforcements would return to the bar. These mercenaries had comms. Word would spread quickly.
Little did Florida know, there would be another reason their enemies would rush back. And it was something he wouldn’t have expected.
Once the line ended, Lola spotted a truck heading down the street near her. She slowly rose to her feet and rolled her shoulders back. After stretching, she squatted and pulled a knife from her side pocket.
She watched the truck speed through the road, and when it drew close, she jumped.
She landed hard on her knees against the open truck, scrambling to grab onto anything to keep from falling. The vehicle swerved slightly from the sudden weight in the back.
The men seated in the back turned in shock. There, they saw her clinging to the edge like her life depended on it.
Lola smiled, pulled herself closer, and threw a jab with her knife. The man dodged on instinct, falling straight into the small trick she planned.
"Sorry," she said before driving the blade into his neck without hesitation.
Blood spilled over the blade, along with the last gasp the man made.
She snapped her gaze to the others staring at her wide-eyed. For a split second, they froze—then rifles were cocked and aimed at her.
At the same time, Lola hauled herself fully inside, rolling and sliding feet-first. She landed across the middle seats, shoving the man with the knife wound tight against another passenger.
She turned to the man on her left, drove her elbow into his chin. His head snapped back, rifle jerking upward from the lack of space. Before he could recover, she slammed another blow into his chest.
"Ugh—"
Lola didn’t pause. She grabbed the rifle’s body, yanked it across her, pointing it toward the man on her other side. The sudden pull made the man holding it fire by accident.
BANG!
The shot smashed into his comrade’s nose, before the one she beat earned another punch right into his jaw, slamming his head outside the window, and eventually hitting a building as the vehicle moved.
"You—" the man in the front seat gasped.
It had all happened in less than a minute. Three men in the back were down before anyone fully registered what was happening.
The shotgun rider raised his rifle, only for Lola to shove the dying man in front of her as a shield.
BANG! BANG!
On the third shot, the shotgun rider felt searing pain tear through his chest. He looked down, saw blood soaking his shirt. When he lifted his head, thin smoke drifted between Lola’s torso and his fallen comrade’s arms.
"Fuc—"
His words never finished as he dropped his gun and collapsed into his seat.
The driver glanced at his side. The moment he saw the blood, he reached for his pistol, only for another shot to ring out.
Before the driver knew it, he slumped forward over the steering wheel.
"Phew!" Lola shoved the weight off her, specks of blood dotting her face and clothes.
Then she heard the tires screech.
She looked up through the cracked, blood-smeared windshield. The truck was veering off course.
"Ah, shit," she muttered, grabbing any strap she could and using the bodies around her as padding.
The next second, the truck slammed into the end of the street, spinning violently before crashing into a building.