BAM!!
Suddenly a black range rover rammed the Rolls Royce into the street light nearby....it all happened so unexpectedly everyone in the car was caught off guard and mildly wounded
Two men with balaclavas to conceal they're identity slowly stepped out of the range rover, and walked near the rolls royce
Tyrone neared the car and immediately shoot the chauffer in the head without hesitation, then opened the passenger seat and was about to be punched by the injured bodyguard but he dodged the swing and shoot him in the leg
"Bitch ass, what you tryna do...stay the fuck down"
...Tyrone's partner ruthlessly shot the second and third bodyguard who were still unconscious in the chest and head than opened the door to abducted the lady who also blacked out
Tyrone and his accomplis rushed back into the range rover, tossing her in the back seat after kidnapping her and sped of from the scene, he left the guy he shoot in the leg alive for a reason...
*SCREECH**
Suddenly the range rover stopped and reversed back to the scene...the black tilted window on the passenger slide down slowly
"Shit, I almost forgot"
Bang!! Bang!!
Tyrone shot the last bodyguard in the head twice, the range rover sped of once again this time not stopping now leaving no one alive
10 minutes later the police arrived at the scene, but two people stood out the most amongst this crime scene...it was a detective and an FBI agent...
"Heh, another gang shootout, in broad daylight...each day they get even more confident" Said the male detective known as Dean....
"And that will help us in the long run, thier exposing themselves and that will be thier downfall"
"You sound pretty confident...I'm not surprised knowing your Undercover role which technically gives you back door access to these gangs" replied the detective
"Pretending I'm a journalist does have an advantage, I get a good insight on how they operate, where they stash goods, basically they giving themselves to me on silver platter"
"I can see why they say your the best in these situations and why they deployed you in Chicago....I heard you know one of the gangs bosses, namely Jeremy Tyrone"
"Heh, I know more than just his name, but that's classified to ensure my Undercover work stays confidential"
"Right, I won't ask any further....let's solve this shit show and get on with our lives"
The detective said sipping his hot coffee...
8:00pm Gas station
Under the flickering fluorescent lights of the dimly lit gas station, Amon, the brother of Chicago gang boss Tyrone, moved with purpose as he navigated the narrow aisles. His footsteps echoed softly against the linoleum floor as he gathered his essentials – a pack of cigarettes, a bottle of water, and a bag of chips. The cashier behind the counter glanced nervously at him, his eyes darting to the black SUV parked outside.
Amon paid for his items with a nonchalant flick of his wrist, but the tension in the air was palpable. The cashier's hands trembled as he handed over the change, his gaze lingering on the ominous vehicle waiting outside.
Stepping out into the chilly night air, Amon's senses sharpened as he scanned his surroundings. The distant hum of traffic blended with the faint whisper of the wind, creating an eerie atmosphere that sent a shiver down his spine.
As he approached his Chevrolet parked in the corner of the lot, the engine of the black SUV roared to life. Amon's heart quickened as he felt a knot form in the pit of his stomach. Something was not right.
With cautious steps, he reached for the door handle of his car, his senses on high alert. Suddenly, a voice pierced the silence, causing him to freeze in his tracks.
"Amon."
The sound of his name sent a jolt of adrenaline coursing through his veins. He turned slowly, his eyes widening in shock as he came face to face with the passenger of the black SUV. The dim glow of the gas station lights illuminated the sleek metal of the Glock pointed directly at his face.
In that moment, time seemed to stand still as Amon stared into the cold, unyielding gaze of his assailant. His mind raced with a thousand thoughts, but fear gripped him like a vice, paralyzing him in place.
The tension hung thick in the air as Amon braced himself for what was to come, the harsh reality of his precarious situation sinking in with each passing second.
As Amon's instincts kicked in, a surge of adrenaline flooded his veins, urging him to reach for his own weapon. With lightning speed, his hand darted towards the concealed firearm at his waist, but before he could even grasp it, the passenger of the black SUV reacted with deadly precision.
In a swift and brutal motion, the assailant unleashed a barrage of gunfire, the sharp cracks of the Glock echoing through the desolate night air. Five shots rang out in quick succession, each impact sending searing pain coursing through Amon's body.
The force of the bullets slammed him backwards, his chest erupting in a storm of agony as he crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath. Blood gushed from his wounds, staining the asphalt beneath him with a crimson pool of life's essence.
As Amon lay helpless and bleeding, the passenger calmly emerged from the SUV, his expression devoid of remorse or hesitation. With chilling determination, he approached the fallen man, his footsteps echoing ominously against the stillness of the night.
In a final, merciless act, the assailant raised his weapon once more, a cold glint of steel flashing in the dim light. A single bullet was all it took to silence Amon's desperate gasps for air, extinguishing the flicker of life that remained within him.
"Wai–"
**Bang***
With the deed done, the assailant retreated back to the waiting vehicle, disappearing into the darkness as swiftly as they had arrived. The black SUV peeled away from the scene, leaving behind a trail of smoke and death in its wake.
As the echoes of the gunshots faded into the night, an eerie silence descended upon the gas station, broken only by the soft wail of sirens in the distance. But there was no one left to witness the aftermath of the brutal execution, for the cashier had vanished without a trace, and the surveillance cameras remained ominously silent, their lenses recording nothing but the empty expanse of the deserted parking lot.
As the sirens blared in the distance, a convoy of police vehicles descended upon the gas station, their blue and red lights illuminating the darkened lot. Officers in bulletproof vests and tactical gear fanned out across the scene, securing the perimeter and cordoning off the area with yellow crime scene tape.
Detectives huddled together, their voices hushed as they meticulously examined the evidence scattered across the ground. Flashlights swept over the pavement, illuminating shell casings and bloodstains, each clue a piece of the puzzle in their quest for justice.
Meanwhile, in a secluded mansion nestled among the rolling hills, a group of shadowy figures dressed in sleek black suits stood before an imposing old man seated behind a polished mahogany desk. The room exuded an air of opulence, with intricate tapestries adorning the walls and antique furnishings adding to the aura of wealth and power.
"We've taken care of the job," one of the figures spoke, his voice low and devoid of emotion. "The target has been eliminated."
The old man nodded in satisfaction, his steely gaze fixed upon the group before him. "Good," he murmured, his voice carrying a weight of authority. "You've done well."
With a subtle nod, the figure turned and made his way to a sleek, modern telephone resting on the edge of the desk. With practiced ease, he dialed a number, his fingers moving with precision as he waited for the call to connect.
"Hello?" came the voice on the other end of the line, crisp and official.
"It's done," the old man stated simply, his tone conveying a sense of finality.
There was a brief pause before the voice on the other end responded. "Understood. We'll take it from here."
As the call ended, the old man leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile playing at the corners of his lips. In the darkness outside, the distant wail of sirens continued to echo through the night, a stark reminder of the chaos unfolding beyond the confines of his secluded mansion.