The Millionaires - Brad Meltzer [49]
Following the sound, Gallo turns away from me and spins toward my brother. He looks at the ground, but Charlie’s already on his feet, swinging the wood plank like a baseball bat. The flat side catches Gallo square in the jaw, sending a mouthful of spit flying across the room. The sound alone is worth it… a sickeningly sweet crack that knocks him—and his gun—straight to the floor.
Before I even realize what’s happening, I feel a sharp tug on the back of my shirt. DeSanctis tosses me backwards. He’s trained to go after the threat. As I crash to the concrete, he turns to Charlie and aims his pistol for the killshot. Now my brother’s in the black hole of the barrel. Instinctively, he holds up the plank as if it’s a shield. Realizing what’s happening, I scramble to my feet. I don’t have a chance. Without hesitation, DeSanctis pulls the trigger. The shot explodes with an ear-splitting boom.
The wood thunders violently and something whizzes directly over Charlie’s head. By the time he opens his eyes, the plank flies from his hands, cleaved in half by the gunshot. As the wood thunks against the ground, his palms are burning, stinging with dozens of splinters from the force of the impact. He looks up at DeSanctis, who’s already readjusted his aim. Straight at him.
“Don’t!” I yell, plowing into DeSanctis from behind. The gun jerks, and a shot goes off—tearing at the wall on my right and sending a storm cloud of loose concrete crumbling into the corner. The impact keeps DeSanctis off-balance enough for me to jump on his back and grab him in a quick choke-hold. Within seconds, though, training overtakes surprise. DeSanctis whips his head back, cracking me in the nose. The pain is ferocious. I don’t let go.
“I’ll kill you, you bastard!” DeSanctis shouts as I continue to hold on. Reaching backwards and clawing over his shoulder, DeSanctis still tries to get at me. That leaves his gut wide-open. It’s all the distraction Charlie needs. Picking up the broken wood plank, he rushes forward… plants his feet… and swings away. As the plank collides with DeSanctis’s stomach, he doubles over, and I swear his feet leave the ground. I fly off the bucking bull and tumble to the concrete—but DeSanctis clearly took the worst of it.
“You okay?” Charlie asks, offering me a hand.
I nod repeatedly, still unable to catch my breath.
Behind Charlie, there’s a sharp scraping noise. He spins around and spots Gallo on the floor, crawling to reach his gun.
Scrambling next to him, Charlie scoops up Gallo’s gun and stuffs it in the back of his pants.
“Charlie…!” I call out.
“Y-You’re both dead,” Gallo whispers, coughing up blood.
“You sure about that?” Charlie asks, winding up for another crack of the bat. I’ve never seen him like this. He lifts the plank over his head like a woodchopper and—
“Don’t!” I shout, grabbing him by his shoulder. DeSanctis is already climbing to his feet. We’re way out of our league. “C’mon—let’s go!”
Charlie drops the wood, and we fly for the heavy metal door in the corner. Once I hear his shoes clicking behind me, I don’t look back. All I want is out. With a quick shove, I’m through the door and across the catwalk. Just as Charlie’s about to follow, he takes one last scan of the room. I can hear it from here. Gallo’s already up and about, coughing uncontrollably. DeSanctis isn’t far behind.
“We got trouble,” Charlie calls out.
In full panic, I leave the construction trailers behind and leap out of the rabbithole, into the food court. Back in the hallway, we hear the metal door crash against the wall. They’re faster than we thought.
“Check the trailers!” Gallo’s voice bellows. That takes care of DeSanctis.
Right there, I make a sharp left and race back the way we originally came.
“Wrong way!” Charlie shouts.
“Are you…?”
“Trust me,” he calls out, heading to the right.
I pause, but it’s a simple choice. We both know where we spent our Friday nights.
Checking to make sure I’m behind him, Charlie takes off up the hallway, and old instincts flood back into place.