At first

"We should have taken a fucking flight. It will take a road to hell if we keep moving by your car," groans Mahone beside him, looking at the road impatiently.

Lynn frowns after hearing about his favorite Mercedes-Benz. "There's no flight available within three hours. I already checked," he replies, gripping the steering wheel more tightly.

"Of course, you did."

"Can you call Sam to ask where she is now? Tell her not to do anything__ stupid."

"She will never do anything stupid, you know that and you're not helping her by telling this, okay? By the way, I just remember that apparently I don't have her phone number."

Lynn sighs and pulls out his mobile from his pocket, then tosses it to his brother. "Tell her that we are coming, too."

"We're not gonna make it in time, Lynn, if we're going to go by your car," he guesses the pin and unlocks it. "Still your birthday, huh? You should change the number, it's as easy as water," he scrolls in the contact list and dials Sam's number.

"Are you telling me to take the train? Timetable says the train line Amtrak is leaving half an hour later. But it will take twelve hours to reach to LA and we don't have that damn time."

"I know. Then brother, try to drive faster," he frowns at the cars they are passing by. "Ehh, your girl is not answering. What's she thinking, by the way? That she's Wonder Woman and kill all them by her whip? I assume she's already on the Pacific coast highway, driving like a crazy, drunk driver."

"Shut your mouth. Keep calling her," Lynn says, his eyes focusing on the road, hands whirling the wheel, increasing the speed.

    After two hit-nerving hours, they enters in Los Angelos city. At the way, they ignored the red traffic signals, the irritating horns of other cars and the angry red eyes of traffic policemen. Lynn continuously accelerated the car and Mahone kept tuning a song by tapping on the dashboard. He parks the car a mile away from their destination building, beside a tree and some wild bushes.

"Is your buddy Ray here yet?" Mahone gets out from the seat after glancing around the empty area except parked cars.

"He texted me that he would be here, I'm not sure. Hey, Mahone, listen," Lynn closes the door, looking around carefully. "Keep your guns ready."

"Always, brother."

The front yard of the building is quiet as usual, the front gate is closed. 

"We can't go in. Even if we can, we don't know for sure that Two G is at this building. There are effing eighty-five floors, how the hell can we know that at which floor he is?" Mahone whispers, they both are standing behind a bush, guns are in their alert hands. "Wait, where is your that informant who you mentioned? Call him right away!"

"As mush as I know, there is a private cottage behind the building. Harold said that he saw Mr. Greenham to go there with Malum and Reggae," Lynn answers, his heartbeat rate speeding up.

"Were they pointing guns at him? Did he look like he was captive in their hands?"

"No__ at least it didn't seem like that."

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's go. Although are you sure that we two can take down them? We don't even know how many of them are inside. A dozen? Two? Three?"

"You may think that going inside just two of us is stupidly dangerous, but how can we know if we don't go inside?"

Mahone nods, smiling wolfishly and cocks the hammers of his two revolvers, his cold expression and vision are menacing. Lynn picks up a small bag over his shoulder, it contains some of C4 plastic explosives and detonators for them. If things get complicated and out of hands, they wouldn't hesitate to blow up the whole place. They start to run beside the boundary wall and when they pass the building, they carefully climb up to the wall and jump on the other side.

"They have CCTV cameras here," Mahone points at the cameras placing at the top of the lampposts, panting softly.

"It's getting dark, don't care," he exhales sharply, then extends his guns at the closed door of the cottage. They look at each other for the final time and both nods their heads meaningfully.

Lynn kicks the front door and shoots the first bullet to the roof as a warning. Mahone has already attacked the back door.

"Everyone get down!" Malum yells at his three bodyguards and his brother, his gun is already at the control of his hand. In the middle of the room, Sam and his father are tied on two chairs, and after the moment seeing them, she somehow frees her hands from the ropes, guess she already tricked them.

Lynn quickly goes behind a pillar and covers for his brother, so he and Sam can cut the ropes around Mr. Greenham. Mahone sends two bullets at Reggae, who is taking cover behind a desk.

"We can talk about this, Stanley! C'mon, stop firing!" Chief Malum shouts after a while, from the space back of the sofas, not shooting.

"Why, are you scared?" Lynn banters, then sprints to left to avoid one of the bodyguards's bullet and he already stopped the heart another one of them. "You should know that, Malum, there's fucking nothing to talk to you about!"

"You're not gonna win, Stanley," he hisses loudly. "Calm down and listen to me!"

"I have listened enough!" 

   Mahone helps Mr. Greenham to stand up, then swiftly tilts his head to Sam. "Wait at that corner with your Dad, behind the shelf. Don't come out, until the bullets stop."

"It's okay, I am fine," her father answers in a strong voice, his body shaking a little.

"No, you're not," Sam wraps his hand around her shoulder, walking to the corner.

"No, you haven't," Vice Chief Reggae laughs coldly, coming out from his cover at a second and aims his revolver behind him.

Reggae Feingold fires.

Time stops, everyone in the room is watching the bullet running to near of the corner, like in slow motion.

Sam feels his father flinch beside her, instantly they both stumble on the floor.

   Lynn fires back, it hits him in his right leg and at that moment he realizes that it was his last bullet, the magazines are empty. It seems too late to reload, wasting of too many important seconds. Malum and Reggae, along with their last bodyguard, two of them passed away, already reach out to the back door.

Mahone empties his chamber, too, he shoots the bodyguard in his left arm, then slowly turns to the lying body on the floor.

The game of bullets now stop.

Lynn sits down beside her, breathing hard. He puts a hand on her shoulder and whispers, "Sam."

  She is staring in disbelief at the red blood dripping from the back of his head, moving steadily on the cement ground. His black eyes are opened, not twinkling anymore because of the light, they won't ever twinkle again. His both hands are extended on the floor, they won't ever hold a pen again and make a kingdom of words on the papers. His left leg is slightly bent, the other are staying motionless, they won't ever walk on the green grasses again. 

She doesn't how long she has been staring at his father, her brain and senses aren't functioning for another minute, it feels as if they are roaming in space. Then she finally moves and parts her lips.

"Make it stop," she whispers.

Lynn glances up at her. "What?"

Her eyes slowly move up to his face, they are blank, as transparent as glass. She keeps gazing at him, staring at the tears falling from the corner of his eyes. She gazes at the drops and feels something changing, disappearing from inside of her, like her whole existence floating like a light boat.

"Don't you understand? I said make it stop!" she yells, pushing his shoulders. "Don't you see? Don't you fucking see?" she presses her hand over her heart. "It hurts! It fucking hurts!"

she starts crying, punching on his chest.

Lynn tightly hugs her, "Sam."

She sobs against his chest. "Make it stop, make it stop! I beg you, Lynn, please make it stop," she wails, he can feel her tears on his chest, his heart shattering with pain, as someone is taking blood drops from there.

   Mahone bents his knees and slowly shuts his static black eyes by his fingers.

"I am sorry, Two G," he murmurs.

Lynn Vandestine 

"We should have taken a fucking flight. It will take a road to hell if we keep moving by your car," groans Mahone beside him, looking at the road impatiently.

Lynn frowns after hearing about his favorite Mercedes-Benz. "There's no flight available within three hours. I already checked," he replies, gripping the steering wheel more tightly.

"Of course, you did."

"Can you call Sam to ask where she is now? Tell her not to do anything__ stupid."

"She will never do anything stupid, you know that and you're not helping her by telling this, okay? By the way, I just remember that apparently I don't have her phone number."

Lynn sighs and pulls out his mobile from his pocket, then tosses it to his brother. "Tell her that we are coming, too."

"We're not gonna make it in time, Lynn, if we're going to go by your car," he guesses the pin and unlocks it. "Still your birthday, huh? You should change the number, it's as easy as water," he scrolls in the contact list and dials Sam's number.

"Are you telling me to take the train? Timetable says the train line Amtrak is leaving half an hour later. But it will take twelve hours to reach to LA and we don't have that damn time."

"I know. Then brother, try to drive faster," he frowns at the cars they are passing by. "Ehh, your girl is not answering. What's she thinking, by the way? That she's Wonder Woman and kill all them by her whip? I assume she's already on the Pacific coast highway, driving like a crazy, drunk driver."

"Shut your mouth. Keep calling her," Lynn says, his eyes focusing on the road, hands whirling the wheel, increasing the speed.

    After two hit-nerving hours, they enters in Los Angelos city. At the way, they ignored the red traffic signals, the irritating horns of other cars and the angry red eyes of traffic policemen. Lynn continuously accelerated the car and Mahone kept tuning a song by tapping on the dashboard. He parks the car a mile away from their destination building, beside a tree and some wild bushes.

"Is your buddy Ray here yet?" Mahone gets out from the seat after glancing around the empty area except parked cars.

"He texted me that he would be here, I'm not sure. Hey, Mahone, listen," Lynn closes the door, looking around carefully. "Keep your guns ready."

"Always, brother."

The front yard of the building is quiet as usual, the front gate is closed. 

"We can't go in. Even if we can, we don't know for sure that Two G is at this building. There are effing eighty-five floors, how the hell can we know that at which floor he is?" Mahone whispers, they both are standing behind a bush, guns are in their alert hands. "Wait, where is your that informant who you mentioned? Call him right away!"

"As mush as I know, there is a private cottage behind the building. Harold said that he saw Mr. Greenham to go there with Malum and Reggae," Lynn answers, his heartbeat rate speeding up.

"Were they pointing guns at him? Did he look like he was captive in their hands?"

"No__ at least it didn't seem like that."

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's go. Although are you sure that we two can take down them? We don't even know how many of them are inside. A dozen? Two? Three?"

"You may think that going inside just two of us is stupidly dangerous, but how can we know if we don't go inside?"

Mahone nods, smiling wolfishly and cocks the hammers of his two revolvers, his cold expression and vision are menacing. Lynn picks up a small bag over his shoulder, it contains some of C4 plastic explosives and detonators for them. If things get complicated and out of hands, they wouldn't hesitate to blow up the whole place. They start to run beside the boundary wall and when they pass the building, they carefully climb up to the wall and jump on the other side.

"They have CCTV cameras here," Mahone points at the cameras placing at the top of the lampposts, panting softly.

"It's getting dark, don't care," he exhales sharply, then extends his guns at the closed door of the cottage. They look at each other for the final time and both nods their heads meaningfully.

Lynn kicks the front door and shoots the first bullet to the roof as a warning. Mahone has already attacked the back door.

"Everyone get down!" Malum yells at his three bodyguards and his brother, his gun is already at the control of his hand. In the middle of the room, Sam and his father are tied on two chairs, and after the moment seeing them, she somehow frees her hands from the ropes, guess she already tricked them.

Lynn quickly goes behind a pillar and covers for his brother, so he and Sam can cut the ropes around Mr. Greenham. Mahone sends two bullets at Reggae, who is taking cover behind a desk.

"We can talk about this, Stanley! C'mon, stop firing!" Chief Malum shouts after a while, from the space back of the sofas, not shooting.

"Why, are you scared?" Lynn banters, then sprints to left to avoid one of the bodyguards's bullet and he already stopped the heart another one of them. "You should know that, Malum, there's fucking nothing to talk to you about!"

"You're not gonna win, Stanley," he hisses loudly. "Calm down and listen to me!"

"I have listened enough!" 

   Mahone helps Mr. Greenham to stand up, then swiftly tilts his head to Sam. "Wait at that corner with your Dad, behind the shelf. Don't come out, until the bullets stop."

"It's okay, I am fine," her father answers in a strong voice, his body shaking a little.

"No, you're not," Sam wraps his hand around her shoulder, walking to the corner.

"No, you haven't," Vice Chief Reggae laughs coldly, coming out from his cover at a second and aims his revolver behind him.

Reggae Feingold fires.

Time stops, everyone in the room is watching the bullet running to near of the corner, like in slow motion.

Sam feels his father flinch beside her, instantly they both stumble on the floor.

   Lynn fires back, it hits him in his right leg and at that moment he realizes that it was his last bullet, the magazines are empty. It seems too late to reload, wasting of too many important seconds. Malum and Reggae, along with their last bodyguard, two of them passed away, already reach out to the back door.

Mahone empties his chamber, too, he shoots the bodyguard in his left arm, then slowly turns to the lying body on the floor.

The game of bullets now stop.

Lynn sits down beside her, breathing hard. He puts a hand on her shoulder and whispers, "Sam."

  She is staring in disbelief at the red blood dripping from the back of his head, moving steadily on the cement ground. His black eyes are opened, not twinkling anymore because of the light, they won't ever twinkle again. His both hands are extended on the floor, they won't ever hold a pen again and make a kingdom of words on the papers. His left leg is slightly bent, the other are staying motionless, they won't ever walk on the green grasses again. 

She doesn't how long she has been staring at his father, her brain and senses aren't functioning for another minute, it feels as if they are roaming in space. Then she finally moves and parts her lips.

"Make it stop," she whispers.

Lynn glances up at her. "What?"

Her eyes slowly move up to his face, they are blank, as transparent as glass. She keeps gazing at him, staring at the tears falling from the corner of his eyes. She gazes at the drops and feels something changing, disappearing from inside of her, like her whole existence floating like a light boat.

"Don't you understand? I said make it stop!" she yells, pushing his shoulders. "Don't you see? Don't you fucking see?" she presses her hand over her heart. "It hurts! It fucking hurts!"

she starts crying, punching on his chest.

Lynn tightly hugs her, "Sam."

She sobs against his chest. "Make it stop, make it stop! I beg you, Lynn, please make it stop," she wails, he can feel her tears on his chest, his heart shattering with pain, as someone is taking blood drops from there.

   Mahone bents his knees and slowly shuts his static black eyes by his fingers.

"I am sorry, Two G," he murmurs.