Even with the lights out, Felix still had vision others lacked—above the gangsters' heads, the marks of guilt glowed like lanterns, sharper in the dark.
They stood stranded onstage, caught between advancing and retreating. Felix had no intention of stopping. He lined his sights just below those red beacons and fired. Three, four rounds per target, then moved on, emptying one magazine before snapping in another. He kept firing until the slide locked back again.
[Host has eliminated three. Progress: 8/10]
Only three. Too few. Time to leave.
He slammed in a second spare mag, pulled Rachel with him toward the exit. Near the doors, he raised the pistol and sent a burst into the night.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Screams answered him outside.
Those who'd fled the warehouse lingered nearby, curiosity outweighing fear. Even the lookouts still loitered. Felix had no intention of leaving them witnesses. He gave them a magazine's worth, aiming at headlights and marked targets, careful not to waste kills on grays. Anyone unlucky enough to be caught in it—that was fate.
When the gun clicked empty again, the crowd outside had scattered. Headlights shattered, bodies running. Felix holstered the weapon and pulled Rachel into the night, slipping away unseen.
[Host has eliminated two. Progress: 10/10. Rewards granted:
Gunshot Residue Neutralizing Spray – 5 uses per person.One user-defined request.
Gunshot Residue Spray: When a round is fired, trace powder and nitrates cling to skin and fabric. Police field tests detect it easily. This spray erases all residue in seconds, essential for any killer working under cover.]
Someone unlucky had gone down after all. So be it.
Felix chose the spray first, fished it from his pocket, and misted the air between them. If the system said it worked, it worked—even if it looked like a toy.
A prompt corrected him: one full dose per person. No shortcuts.
So much for thrift. He tossed it back into storage.
"Felix…"
He pressed a finger to Rachel's lips. "Car. Then we talk."
Hand in hand, they threaded through the dispersing mob and reached their car. They had barely climbed inside when a chorus of sirens screamed in. Police cruisers swarmed the block, sealing every exit, officers spilling out with guns drawn.
"Don't move! Hands on your head, down on your knees!"
"Stay in your cars—officers will come to you!"
The scene fractured further. Those clean of warrants complied, knowing it was just a trip downtown, a few questions, then release. Those with records panicked; a background check meant prison time.
One man twitched, then bolted into the shadows. Within seconds, he was gone—an advantage of skin and night. Two Latinos tried the same, but floodlights mounted on cruisers pinned them mid-stride.
"Last warning! Kneel down, hands on your head!"
They froze. The wrong complexion to melt into darkness.
Then came the rumble—armored engines, heavy and final. SEB had arrived. The Sheriff's Department's Special Enforcement Bureau, Special Weapons Team. They spilled from an armored truck, kitted like soldiers: NVGs, plate carriers, carbines, shields up front, formation locked.
The crowd understood. This was no longer just cops. With SEB on-site, survival meant compliance.
Technically, any cop could shoot on a "threat move," but in ordinary cases the review boards, media, and movements would hound them. SEB was different. If you died under their boots, you'd simply chosen the wrong night to breathe.
Regular deputies followed in pairs, cuffing or zip-tying everyone on the ground, dragging them aside. Under SEB's shadow, no one resisted.
A few tried—rage still burning. They surged once, only to be dropped by rifle butts, left groaning on asphalt. Too many witnesses. No weapons in hand. Killing them here would never clear review.
By the time half the bodies were restrained, the thrum grew louder overhead. Two helicopters cut through the night, searchlights sweeping. What had been blinding already under cruiser lamps now turned to day.
They hovered, cameras wide open, feeding every corner to command. Anyone hiding was lit up and marked, ground units sent roaring in to drag them out.