Pretending to Be an Untouchable Crime Boss

"What the fuck is taking so long?" Hector asked, stressed as fuck because they could hear all the shots, all the explosions, but still they needed to stay calm and wait.

"It's all about timing." Ramirez said as he sat beside Hector. "We need to believe in each other and the plan."

"Still, it takes longer than expected. Who knows if Marco already reached out to someone to call backup? Then the plan is worth nothing." Hector said, because well, it was true. They didn't know who Marco was working with, who could be his allies or partners.

"True." Ramirez sighed as he looked out the window. "Back in the military, we had a saying for situations like this." He looked back at Hector. "You know, we were trained not just physically but mentally too, how to handle the brutality that comes our way, and how to pull the trigger without any thought or morality." He stopped a little as he looked into Hector's eyes and thought about how to actually say it.

"What is it?"

"The saying goes like this: 'We fight until our last breath, until our last stand.' We needed to use this as a mentality when some of our brothers got trapped or ambushed." He shook his head with a smirk. "Basically, the mentality is about doing the most, not for yourself, but for what you believe in. Fight until the last breath for what you believe in, until our last stand."

Hector at first seemed confused about it, but as he thought about it and also thought about Ramirez's past he slowly started understanding what he was saying. More importantly, who he was implying it for.

Yeah, all of them who went in with Ferucci were soldiers, and Ramirez was implying to them that they wouldn't back down, even if it would cost their lives. And the worst of it was that Ferucci was like this from the beginning, and Hector knew it very much. He didn't need any special forces training or military mentality, because he was like this from the moment he met James. And somehow now, Hector started stressing more and more.

Ferucci wasn't someone who backed down, but the one who crashed out and if that happened, he didn't care about himself or others. His only focus was on the kill, on doing the mission he was ordered to do.

"Fuck, Ramirez." Hector looked at him. "You're telling me bullshit. Why the fuck, in a situation like this, are you just stressing me out more?"

"Oh well, sorry, I thought it would put some, I don't know, pride in you or something." He laughed.

"Pride to die, or what?"

"Well yeah, there are two ways to die with pride or… like a little bitch crying."

Hector eyed him a bit. "Is that a military mentality?"

"Yes, my instructor said it to me back then." Ramirez laughed once more and lit up a cigarette, and well, the saying was true and Ferucci was not a little bitch crying.

No, he was in the biggest silince of his life as Dilian was wiping off his chest with a piece of cloth because there was blood everywhere, and he didn't see the fucking wound, until he did and just realized that the situation is bad, really bad.

Dilian was hundred percent sure that it was a bullet that struck Ferucci, but no, it wasn't. They only hit him on the plate carrier, which caught the bullet, and his ear… but the wound on his left side of the ribcage was from a shrapnel.

It went in and the blood was coming out from that little wound like it was a waterfall, and Dilian realized that if it really was shrapnel and this happened when Ferucci was nearly blown up by a grenade, he needed blood, lots of it and right now, because stopping the bleeding is not going to do shit, and the amount of blood around Ferucci, Dilian knew that maybe he had 10 minutes maximum to live and that's it.

"Fuck, fuck!" He shouted as he injected something right beside the wound and again put that white powder on the wound and pushed bandage into it, but it meant nothing.

Yes, the bleeding stopped, but Ferucci was looking like shit. His face was pale, his eyes were falling back, while his breathing was slow.

The injection he gave him earlier was wearing off, and giving him another had the chance to actually kill him and not help him, but Dilian needed to act, because he was losing him.

But then the decision was a fight on his own.

If he injected it, there was the possibility that Ferucci would die immediately because it would be the second one.

On the other hand, if he doesn't inject it, Ferucci will die as his heart stops and not just that but the blood loss.

It was a gamble, but he decided to do it, because he knew that at least he tried.

"Ferucci, don't fucking die!" He shouted at him as he pulled out the injection, removed the cap, and with one last look at him, he injected it with the hope that he would survive… but the odds were low.

Too much blood, too much time passed, and Ferucci himself was no longer holding onto life… he was just drifting in and out of the darkness, in and out of the memories… he wasn't fighting at all.

"Someone help me!" Dilian shouted, and one of the men ran to him, grabbing Ferucci and dragging him out of the gate toward one of the cars.

They held him up and put him into the back seat and pressed the gas, going toward the hospital, which was ten minutes away…

Too much time, and there was nothing Dilian could do about it.

"We're out!" The driver shouted into his radio as he turned on the corner, driving onto the main street… the signal that Eric waited for.

"Ash! Ash! Ash!" He shouted into his radio as he switched frequency. The signal that Hector was eager to hear, and finally, they could go in.

The convoy immediately started moving toward the back side of the house to the garden, and was ready to go in as the two guards got out of the cars, aimed the rocket launcher, and launched it straight into the walls.