The Story of Blood and Roses

We were about five miles from the location of the attack. The plan was spread over the hood of our car and a few of the other men surrounded it to carefully listen to what Anthony had to say.

"Now, here," he pointed to a particular spot on his sketch map. "-is where I want five of you to be waiting." He pointed at a few men who stood beside me. They nodded in understanding. "Mia, you'll be the first one to go in. Ethan will cover you when you enter after which you will hold the door." I nodded. "Ethan, I need you to be in command of the people who are outside. You are our only link.

"I will enter right after you have held the door and given me a count. You will not shoot until you are by my side." He gave me a pointed look, knowing that I would be tempted to start without him. "When I get in, you will cover me as I target the people who are farthest from me while you will be taking out the ones who are closer."

"The chances of you getting hit are higher. Don't you think it will be more efficient if you took cover before we start shooting, Anthony?" he tilted his head to a side.

"I want them thinking that they have me on the spot with nowhere to go. We need to have that surprise element. They might know that we are coming, but we cannot give them the chance to stop us."

"I'll cover you," I promised. He gave me a little smile before he went back to stare at the map. His hands were placed firmly on the hood of the car, and he was hunched over it as he speculated as to what should be done next.

"Ethan," he called out, suddenly. "You will not come in. It will take around thirty minutes to sweep the place and put them all down," like dogs "and then we'll signal you over and you can bring the boys in."

"Boys: if you see anyone trying to enter this place while we are inside, shoot them between the eyes."

"Yes, Boss," they said in unison. To be honest, I was a bit uncomfortable having these people in the team. I felt at risk because I didn't know them personally, neither had I ever interacted with them. They had been in that meeting the other day, but they'd not been as confident in my capabilities as I had wished they would be. It was common knowledge that I was going to be treated lower than them despite being higher in the mob hierarchy. I was trying my best to be at peace with Michael's judgement and placing them to guard us while we put ourselves at risk.

The plan seemed almost impeccable to me, apart from the possibility that they had snipers on the rooftop to take us down even before we could reach the doorless frame of the unfinished building. Michael assured me that nothing of the sort was going to happen. It had been on the ride to Syracuse that we reflected on how much risk we were in. After what seemed like hours thinking about how bad it was going to cost us, Michael stopped the car at the side of the door, letting the others pass by. We sat there for a few moments before he shifted his body to face me.

"They can't risk killing us, Mia," he had told me with a confidence that made me want to believe him. I really did try, but I had snorted, and then we had laughed. Humans, we knew, would act in their own interest; they would shoot if they thought that their life was in danger, and their life would be in danger. They would try to kill us even if they had orders to not go to that extent.

We couldn't lose men; we were in scarcity as it was. Everyone knew that.

"Nothing will happen to us," he had promised. His voice was coated in honey, the deadly kind that would get you stung by a thousand bees because you put your hand inside the beehive you extract it.

"Nothing will happen to you," I corrected and he raised a brow at me. I could see his brain working as he realized what I meant. His eyes flashed as he stared at me for a moment.

"I'd shoot any and all of those fuckers down if it came to it. No one will touch you."

"Because I'll kill them myself." He smirked.

"We'll kill them together, my kitten."

And we sat there for minutes in silence. I had never felt more equal to him than at that moment. We were partners in crime—the team that no one could penetrate without losing a limb. He would work around each other in perfect synchronization with blindfolds over our eyes and our listening hampered. We knew the exact amount of time the other took to take the next breath and how much reaction time it took to analyze a situation. We knew who would ask the questions and who would play the good cop. It came to us naturally, and he had known from the very beginning; the moment I had pulled my own gun out and pointed at his head to show him that he could never take me down: that I was just as bull-headed a bitch as he was.

"Shall we?" he chuckled, and I smirked at him. He had given me a wink and then we had driven off into the proverbial sunset.

I thought back on the conversation and felt lighter because I was oddly comforted that he would have my back the whole time. We decided to take a nap, with a few people keeping guard for the night. Michael and I found ourselves inside the car with the heater on. The back seat of the car had a few bags on them, so we reclined on the front seats and chatted until sleep took us. I was sure that I was going to be carrying out a raid with a sore neck the next morning.

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