Pretending to Be an Untouchable Crime Boss

"Push it up!" A firm voice rang out, a voice that even Ferucci heard, but it was so distant, so muffled. "Push it out!" Again the same words, while gunshots rang out. "Ferucci, open your fucking eyes!" Erick's voice, yeah, it was him slapping his face like it was going to be the miracle medicine, while in the background the others were advancing forward.

But those slaps did something, as Ferucci only opened one of his eyes, a little only, and still saw nothing, just a blurred face, and a flash of light into his eyes.

"Hey, hey!" Erick slapped his face again. "Don't close it and listen to me, my voice, listen to it!" He shouted again, but he knew very well that it might be over for Ferucci.

His whole vest was covered in blood and half of his head. Ferucci was in a state that can't even be called fucked up, it was more than that.

"Dilian, come here!" Erick shouted into the radio and Dilian immediately dashed toward them, kneeling down beside Ferucci.

"Fuck…" The only word… the word that somehow Ferucci heard clearly.

That bad, huh… just let me die then… yeah, let me—

A fucking powerful slap to the face… one that even Ferucci himself got confused about in that state.

"Stop it, Erick!" Dilian's voice now cut through as he grabbed Erick's hands. "I need to find the wound, stop beating the shit out of him and get the vest off of him!" He shouted as he injected something into Ferucci's leg. Who knows what, but for sure, he felt it.

His heartbeat, that was so low, suddenly started beating like hell… so fast that he thought he might just die right now. This is the end…

But no, it wasn't as he felt the weight getting off his chest as Eric threw the plate carrier away from Ferucci. It felt like heaven itself, his body now was so light, in the darkness.

"His ear!" Erick pointed, and yes, it was just like James… a bullet went through his left ear, and that was where all the blood came from on his face.

Dilian immediately started pouring some white powder on his ear, then something that was like wax.

"I got it! Now go help the others!" He looked at Erick. "Go!" He pushed him Eric.

He needed to be there with the others to command them, but he was stressing as fuck.

He looked once more at him on the ground as Dilian cut through his shirt, and he saw it then... the blood, so much on his chest that his skin was barely visible.

Ferucci wasn't his boss, nor had he ever talked with him much, but he knew that if he died… that was going to be bad, like shit really bad.

"Fuck!" He shouted out, then turned away. It was better to fight than watching Ferucci on the ground in a half-dead state. It was better to vent it out on the enemy… the enemy that got blown up by Ferucci and he not just killed them, but put them in fear.

Marco's guys didn't try to push them out but took position at the house itself. But the mistake they made was the flashlights.

Eric threw off his night vision, and he only needed to aim at where the lights were and pulled the trigger, dropping guys like they were nothing. His aim was precise, his movement was precise… the old himself came out.

"To the left!" He shouted, and the guys did exactly that, hopping into a little ditch that was perfect for cover and perfect for the guys who ran in from the back. Those guys who had no night vision, but shit… they didn't even need that.

The machine gunner ran to the ditch, layed down and took aim. They precisely pulled the trigger at the same time, shooting at everything that moved and everything that was in their way and those bullets also reached the house itself.

The walls were being torn down as bullets went into it, as the glasses shattered, but somehow Marco's guys didn't give up, like it was a good thing to die for that fucker. They got into better positions and started shooting back, and well they finally knew how to aim… because they shot and hit some of Eric's men.

"On the right, at the garage!" He shouted as he saw one of his men collapsing on the ground and the machine gunner immediately aimed there, shooting the garage up the fuck.

Marco's beloved exotic car stood no chance, as well as the guy who was hiding there.

It became clearer and clearer that they had finally gained ground, and there was no backing down now. They fired at everything, unaware that one of the Sinatra family's top members lay unconscious on the concrete.

Yeah, he was still there, in the exact same spot where he fell. Nobody gave a flying fuck about him, nor did they know who he was. Marco's guards just stepped straight past him, like he was originally there as part of the decoration or something.

Meanwhile Marco himself in the house was already on his escape plan… which failed greatly.

When he got himself together after the rocket hit, he wanted to escape through the front gate, but couldn't do it because of Eric and Ferucci. And he couldn't use the other gate because it wasn't working.

So the other plan was the garden, where a bulletproof car was parked, one that had a chance to push through the gunfire and make it out the front gate. But that didn't work or rather, it wouldn't work for him and he would soon find out just how fucked he really was. Because Eric was ready to give the signal, but he still waited… waited for something.

That something was getting Ferucci and the wounded out before all hell broke loose.

Before Hector came in with the others like a bomb.

He was one street away with the convoy, stressed as fuck but knew very well that he had to stick to the plan, to have patience, to not fuck everything up by rushing in. But shit, it was really bad just sitting there while others fought with everything they had… the worst feeling he could have in that moment, not even knowing that Ferucci was down.

The signal… he was waiting for it more than anything else