Deal or No Deal

           

     Today was initiation day for Jacob, a 15 year old black kid from the wrong side of the tracks. He loved guns and had been hanging around a local faction of the Section 13 gang for years, but only did petty crimes and was more often the look out. It was a quiet morning, a few hours before dawn and Jacob was sitting in a black SUV with three other members of the gang. The up-scale neighbourhood had its own 'rent-a-cop' security, but they had a guy on the inside to slow the response, and just before their signal, they began preparing Jacob for his first big job. Jacob was nervous but he tried to hide it, within the gang, fear was a sign of weakness, and the gang was the only family he knew since he ran away from a foster home four years ago.

               

“We have five more minutes before our guy creates a window for us,” said Spig, the gang leader. “The guy that owns this house is a drug and arms dealer and has been supplying to our rivals. Stay sharp, he will have eight guys in there with him.”

The dealer was scheduled to make a huge sale that day to their biggest competition, so they had to hit now to keep the upper hand. The mansion was on a few acres of land, armed guards on rotation basis patrolled the grounds, security cameras and dogs. The gang had to park and hike in without being detected, so there were four teams each with four guys. North, South, East, West, and were all supposed to move in at the same time.

They had the blueprints for the mansion and there were a lot of tight corners, so each guy was carrying an AR-15 tactical rifle. It was a lightweight, intermediate cartridge magazine-fed, air cooled semi-automatic rifle with a rotating –lock bolt, actuated by direct impingement gas operation and perfect for accuracy and combat in tight situations. Each man also carried a 9mm pistol and as much ammo as he could carry.

When the signal came, they moved in like clockwork, the silencers were a great investment and allowed them to move swiftly and quietly. ‘Double tap’ was how they were trained to fire, one to the chest and one to the head. The guards on the outside never saw it coming, the gang made it to the four sides of the building and entered quietly. Jacob stayed to the back, he wasn't a very good shot, but it didn't matter, his job was to kill the arms dealer.  

Nine people were expected to be inside the mansion, but by the time Spig realized he had been double crossed, it had been too late. The gang was now faced with over 30 heavily armed men all laying in wait. They knew the gang was coming and as soon as all four teams entered the mansion they were met with a hail of gunfire. They were pinned down.

“I knew this shit was too easy,” screamed Spig over the explosions of gunfire and glass shattering. "Take cover!"

Jacob was hiding behind an over turned dining table, curled up in the fetal position. His arms were covering his head and as the shrapnel came flying he could feel the heat all about his body. It was a slaughter, and Jacob lay as still as he could, the fear had his body paralysed. Jacob opened his eyes, saw Spig still firing, the muzzle flashes like streaks of lightening, the sound seemed drowned out and the air was thick with smoke and debris.

He looked over at Jacob and screamed for him to shoot, shoot at anything that moved. When he held back up to fire again a bullet pierced his head between his eyes, timed slowed and Jacob saw the entire back of Spig's head explode. The brain matter splattered like corn beef on the walls behind them. Spig slowly turned to look at Jacob, the blood oozed through the entry hole and Jacob could see straight through his head to the wall behind. It seemed like forever before his limp body finally hit the floor.

It was at that point that Jacob picked up his things and ran. Never was he so afraid in his life. Through a barrage of fire he ran across the room and jumped through a window onto the back lawn. He got up, heart pounding in his chest and in his ears, body shaking violently and ran towards the woods. He didn't stop until he reached the highway over a mile away and was almost hit by a passing car. He dropped to the pavement, still clutching the AR-15 in his broken arms, body riddled with bullets and gasping for air. It was only at that moment did he realise that not only was he shot multiple times, but also broke his arm when he jumped through the window.

The vehicle he ran across happened to be a state trooper’s car, the officer got out with his gun drawn when he saw the AR-15. Jacob lay on the highway in a pool of blood, his pulse weakening, his breathing reduced to intermittent gasps. The officer called for an ambulance and for additional officers but it was too late, Jacob had lost too much blood. His heart finally gave out and he died on the spot as the officer watched. He was on his back, eyes and mouth wide open with fear frozen on his face. Still clutching his gun close to his chest.