18. Caspian #3
I glanced at my phone again, ready to answer no, when we heard more footsteps behind us. All six of us reacted, training our weapons on the hall.
“Someone called for me?” Giulio said as he walked into view.
“What the fuck happened to you?” My eyes locked onto the burnt edges of his clothes, the soot covering his arms, and the head wound dripping blood down his face. Giulio carried a gun in each hand and looked like he’d just been through battle.
He gestured to all the dead bodies. “This happened.”
“Are any of them left?” Wynn asked as he pulled off his backpack. He dug around in it for the med kit.
“I don’t think so,” Giulio said, tucking away his guns so he could take the med kit from Wynn.
He distributed some supplies to his men before he started wrapping a line of gauze around his forehead.
“We took out about a dozen of them from the North side. Even more were hiding inside the bays, just waiting to pick us off. We got the upper hand and chased the rest of them up here.”
Leona rubbed her hands over her eyes. “How many of our men did we lose?”
Giulio tied off the gauze. It was already stained pink. “Fifteen.”
“How many do you have left?” I asked.
He gestured to himself and then to four men who trailed him. “Just us.”
Fuck. That was a dent, especially at our lower numbers. We’d brought twenty with us, and only five were going to head home.
Giulio glanced at Leona. “Bad news, though, boss.”
“What?” she asked.
“They were waiting for us,” he answered. “As soon as we got close to the North side of the building, they fired. My men weren’t even exposed yet. It was like they knew we were coming.”
“A trap?” Ryu asked, narrowing his eyes at Max. “They let the shipment happen because they knew you knew about it.”
Max gave a weak nod. “Probably.”
“Shit,” Leona hissed.
“Why didn’t we consider this?” I asked. “We could have let it go.”
“We did,” Obi responded succinctly. “But we need the guns.”
“What about our men?” Leona asked. “We lost fifteen. We’ll run out at that rate.”
“This battle was a victory,” Obi said. “We got what we came for.”
“Tonight,” I countered. “Because we got lucky.”
“Because we were prepared.” Obi readjusted his guns. “If this was a trap, Greco didn’t intend to kill us. He wanted to see our strength. Now he knows. It was strategic on his part, just as much as it was on ours.”
“He’d just let his men die like that?” Leona asked. “Let them be sacrificial lambs?”
Obi and Max looked at each other. After a tense moment, Max answered. “Yes. He would.”
Leona frowned. “I fucking hate him.”
“Me too, princess.”
With a sigh, she turned on her heel, and we started walking back toward the stairs. “We’re certain that’s all of them? They’re all dead?”
“Yes, boss,” Giulio said. “We just finished sweeping the rest of the building. All that’s left is the guns.”
“All right,” she responded. “Pack them up. Get our trucks in here. Take them back to our headquarters and start distributing them. There have to be hundreds of guns here, and I want everyone armed to their fucking teeth. Then, I want you to make sure the families of our dead men are taken care of. Whatever they need, we’ll make it happen. It’s the least we can do.”
“You got it, boss,” he replied before he started relaying the orders to his men. Next, he called in the trucks. It only took a few minutes before the warehouse was bustling with more of our men, loading crates onto our trucks. Max was right; the South side had better access to the road.
“Make sure all the pieces are accounted for and the guns are tested to be fully operational before you hand them out,” Max said.
I raised an eyebrow. Could the guns be missing some pieces? Sabotaged?
“If this was a trap, the guns could be a trap, too,” he added. “Greco wouldn’t just give them to us.”
Obi gently pulled Leona away from where she was inspecting a crate. “Double-check all the crates are safe to open as well. There could be booby-traps.”
Leona froze and allowed him to move her five steps backward while Giulio solemnly passed on the orders. All our men moved cautiously, but this would get finished faster if we helped, too.
“Ryu? Wynn?” I called while I joined our men in moving the boxes. “A little help.”
Ryu sighed dramatically, but he slung his rifle across his back and started helping. Wynn did the same, while Leona crossed her arms and started counting the crates.
After a while, she pulled out her phone and took a selfie with one of the last ones, middle finger pointed at the sky, just as we loaded it into the back of our unmarked box trucks.
“What’s that for?” I asked.
She smiled. “Thought I’d let Greco know we’re going to enjoy this supply. That will be our answer to his three-day farce. He can go fuck himself.”
Max came up on my side. “You’ll just piss him off even more.”
“Excellent,” she said with a grin, her thumbs typing away. “We need a creative insult for Greco.”
“Piccola stronza di merda?” Max offered.
Little piece of shit bitch.
She snorted. “Good enough for now.”
The message and the picture were sent with a whoosh.