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As the killers approached the old dilapidated building, Brian turned around to face Michael.
“Hey, I just thought of something,” he said. “How come no one seemed to give a fuck about a ton of gunshots that clearly came from your house? No other cops even came around. There’s no fucking way no one heard any of them.”
Michael said, “The people in my neighbourhood have an understanding with Marcel. As soon as I moved there, he personally went around to every house. No one questions anything that goes on in my house, and he provides protection for everyone and pays everyone’s electric bills.”
“Wow,” replied Brian. “That’s a good idea. People are more motivated by money and security than fear. ”
Bill pulled his Chevelle up to the curb, across the street and one block down from the ancient, crumbling building. The other vehicles followed. Brian, Bill, and Michael go out of the car, jumping into their predetermined route.
They made a beeline for the building next to their target. Reaching the wall, they quickly scanned the surroundings, registering every detail. Bill stepped around the corner and sprinted to the end of the next wall. He surveyed the area, detecting no signs of life while his partners caught up.
This part of the city was mostly deserted. It was full of abandoned, broken down structures. Bits and pieces of trash aimlessly blew around in the light chilling breeze of the early evening. The garbage reinforced the atmosphere of the dark faded streets, which were empty, and chipped away by the obdurate force of time.
Homeless people, seeking shelter from the elements and scavenging for food, sometimes stayed there. They were the only occupants. Most had been scared away by the assassins who had arrived several hours earlier.
Bill saw two snipers on top of his destination as he gingerly looked at the roof. He had expected that. Turning around, he held his hand up as he made eye contact with Brian and Michael, making a fist. The men waited for their partners to complete their part of the plan.