CHAPTER SIX

“It wasn’t enough,” said the man, staring at the men in front of him. “You needed to hit more than you did. I gave you dozens of weapons, hundreds of rounds of ammunition and a location that had thousands of people and you kill less than twenty. What kind of shit is that?”

“Wasn’t enough? We killed plenty,” said the younger man. “Besides, when those assholes in that fancy chopper showed up, we had to get out of there. We’re lucky they didn’t chase us down.”

“They were preoccupied with someone,” said the man. “I don’t know who, but it was obvious that they were on a mission to get Daddy’s rich girl out of the mall.”

“Maybe it was Daddy’s rich boy,” smirked one of the men.

“Be a smart ass again, and I’ll kill you myself,” he said. “We need to make the next shooting bigger, more impactful. I’ll see what I can come up with. You guys lay low, don’t do anything stupid, don’t brag about your weapons, don’t brag about shit. Act normal. Clear?”

“Clear,” they said in unison, walking out of the room.

“Robo?” The tall, lanky young man turned to stare at him.

“Sir?”

“How were they?”

“They did what they were told. Everyone kept their cool, kept their masks on, didn’t do anything too stupid. We’ll get better at it, I’m sure.”

“Good. That’s good. We’re going to make this holiday season one for the books, one that everyone in New Orleans will remember for a long, long time.”

“Sir, can I ask why? I mean, do you have something against New Orleans? Why not Detroit or Chicago, maybe Miami, or let’s hit the illegals at the border? Why here?”

“Let’s just say I have an issue with this city, and they’re going to give me what they owe me. Go on. Stay out of sight, and I’ll let you know where the next hit will be.”