"Start fucking shooting or we're going to die, Mejar!" is what Kerzhakov was screaming at me when we were pinned down outside of the state bank in Philadephia. It was hard to hear him when .38 caliber bullets were whizzing by my head.
Mikhail screamed back, "His god damn gun is jammed!" and it was. So, there I was taking apart my gun to clean the barrel. All the while bullets are still whizzing by my head.
"Ha!! I got three of the fuckers with one bullet!" Mikhail yelled while he was taking cover along side Kerzhakov and I behind the car. There must have been two dozen cops and FBI agents there by now and it looked like they were still comming. We need an escape route bad.
I finally put my gn back together and began knocking off coppers left and right along side Mikhail and Kerzhakov. You should have seen it. There were dead bodies everywhere. The blood from the coppers were forming a river and disapearing into the sewer gutters. It looked almost surreal with the bright red blood against the cold bleak and in-personal grey of theses Philly streets.
That's when I thought of it. "Get in the sewers!" I yelled. "We have to go through the sewers! Grab the cash from the car and let's go!"
There were still plenty of coppers left shooting up our get-away-car to death. I opened up the suicide doors so we could have some cover while we grabbed the cash and made our get-a-way into the underground of Philadephia but the coppers followed us. |