Dirty Wars – The Lion and The Mouse Read Online Kenya Wright

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 247
Estimated words: 248926 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1245(@200wpm)___ 996(@250wpm)___ 830(@300wpm)
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Never try to guess the Lion’s moves. You will be killed every time.

I assessed the roof’s sentry guns. They were so big and long, they could have easily been mounted on a Navy vessel and used in war. Each gun had two-foot-long barrels with long belts of bullets to feed them. Huge scopes were attached to the tops.

I went back to Giorgio. The Butler stood on the rocks and dug into his pockets.

What is he getting? More gloves?

I checked on my crew.

Everyone rose in their boats slyly checking their weapons and grabbing fishing poles.

Maxwell sucked his teeth and yanked his pole into the boat. “I never got that damn fish.”

I smirked. “Maybe, if you had not tossed a phone at the fish, they would have come by.”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Maxwell lifted his pants.

I spotted Glock 27s in both ankle holsters.

“At least, I’ll get to kill some Italians today.” Maxwell patted himself down, telling me he also had guns in his shoulder holster.

Looking like an idiot, Jean-Pierre left the boat with his violin case.

He is really serious.

Maxwell and David followed.

Wassily climbed down from the mainmast, went to the corner of the boat, and grabbed a long item covered in tarp. It must have been heavy. He took his time hauling it over to me.

I stared at it. “What’s that?”

“I thought you would want to bring your rocket launcher.”

I grinned. “I really like you, Wassily.”

He nodded. “I will hold it for you until we get in—”

Shots fired.

What the fuck?!

I dove face down on the wooden slats of the boat.

Wassily hit my side.

More shots rang out.

“What happened?” I wrenched my gun out of my holster, lifted my head, and checked for the two initial security men.

Their bodies lay dead at the bottom of the cliffs. Shock decorated their faces. Blood spilled from their foreheads.

Who killed them?

I raised my view.

Giorgio darted up the boulders like a maniac—intent, quick, agile—twisting and turning in the air. So goddamn fast, it was hard for my eyes to keep focus on him.

He vaulted from one jutting rocky ledge to the next. Never still. Never at rest. Firing his gun in long, wide bursts of five or six bullets that sent sparks flying. His targets fell back—one man with his eye blown out and another with a bloody hole in his jawbone.

So much for patient and silent.

Due to Giorgio, everyone else broke character and had been forced to follow.

Fast, Harlem Crew dropped those fish, grabbed their guns, and raced up the cliffs.

“Damn it.” I returned my view to the idiot.

Four Italian soldiers were left, all bearing semi-automatic rifles and sprinting towards us.

They fired.

Dodging bullets, Giorgio leapt up the cliffs with cat-like agility and accuracy, shooting at one man’s neck and then another’s leg.

Blood sprayed. Both fell back, yet one still aimed at Giorgio.

Maxwell got him in the head.

David blasted the other in the chest.

Giorgio sped after the last two.

David and Maxwell followed, firing at the enemy.

Meanwhile, Jean-Pierre strolled up the cliffs with his violin case as if on holiday and enjoying the scenery.

Fucking French!

I yelled at Wassily. “Hand me the rocket launcher!”

Up above, more bullets whistled through the air.

I hope they killed the last two.

Wassily snatched the tarp off. My baby shimmered in the sunlight.

Fast, I grabbed it from him, placed the launcher’s back on my shoulder, and aimed for the roof.

Thoroughly alarmed, the men had already begun twisting those massive sentry guns our way.

Stupid Butler!

I targeted the middle sentry gun since he had faced us first.

Next, I pulled the trigger. My baby rattled and popped, launching a rocket in the direction of the building.

The boat rocked from the impact.

I staggered back to keep my balance.

The rocket zoomed at an alarming rate of speed and then soared upward on a cloud of sulfur and smoke.

Screams rose from the roof as the men took cover.

The rocket hit the middle gun, knocking it into the air where it exploded into a massive cloud of black smoke and orange flames. Then, the burning mass of twisted metal rained down on the roof, knocking a second gun into the air.

I aimed at the third gun and shot a rocket. This one landed on the last sentry gun in a flash of light and fire, destroying it in seconds.

Noise sounded from behind me.

I checked over my shoulder.

The other boats had finally reached us. Tons of Russians, French, and Harlem Crew piled onto the shore and rushed out with their guns in front of them.

Already there were people on the roofs, putting out the fires with extinguishers.

You can save the roof for now, but the whole house will be ashes soon.

“Let’s have some fun.” I handed the rocket launcher to Wassily, climbed out of the boat, and raced up the cliff with everyone else. After two minutes, my knees ached. I didn’t know how Giorgio had sprinted and leapt up the cliff so fast.


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