one man in the gut who toppled backward over his plastic chair and onto the floor. Another guy jumped to his feet and managed to get his gun out of its holster before Luis put two rounds through his chest. The man collapsed and took the table with him, sending bottles and glasses shattering across the floor. The two remaining guys hit the deck.
Luis stopped firing but kept his Beretta raised as Brodie aimed high over the bar and squeezed off another burst, just to make sure everyone who wasn’t already on the floor got the message. He ruined a few Miss Venezuela pinups, exploded a neon beer sign, and put a good dent in the Hen House’s liquor supply. The AK’s distinctive pop-pop-pop brought back bad memories of Fallujah.
The dance music suddenly stopped and the lounge was quiet except for the beat of the AK. Brodie eased off on the trigger and quickly scanned the room for Carlo, but no one was left standing, and in the dim light he couldn’t make out who was who among the people crouched for cover near the bar. He kept the AK raised as he backed toward the side door and shouted to Luis, “Go!” Luis pushed open the door and exited. Brodie fired a burst into the ceiling for fun, then ducked out.
They ran along the side of the Hen House toward the road. There were no streetlights, but the parked cars were starting their engines as their customers fled from the bordello. Just another night at the Hen House.
As they cleared the side of the brothel Brodie heard a nearby gunshot, and he dropped to his knee and aimed his AK at the open front door, but the shooter took cover behind the door. Brodie held for a moment, took aim. Carlo popped out with his pistol raised and Brodie fired a three-round burst into his chest. The man’s body jerked violently and crumpled in a heap in the open doorway.
Brodie’s mag was empty so he ejected it, flipped it, and slapped in the other one that was duct-taped to it, then chambered a round.
He heard the pop of silencer shots behind him and glanced at Luis, who had just nailed a man coming out the side door. The door swung back on the body now lying in the doorway.
Brodie motioned Luis forward and they ran toward the street. Brodie glanced at the front door of the Hen House as they moved but couldn’t see any activity.
By now all the drivers who were parked haphazardly in front of the brothel had either taken off or taken cover in their cars. Brodie and Luis ran through the maze of cars along the road, headed uphill toward where he hoped Taylor was still parked, though he couldn’t see the Mitsubishi in the dark.
Just ahead of them a car window exploded in a hail of gunfire, and Brodie and Luis hit the ground. Brodie heard pistol fire coming from up the road, and he hoped it was Taylor. The car with the shattered window, a big black sedan, peeled off down the road, and another car took off behind it. Now they were exposed.
Brodie got to his feet and ran in the direction of the Mitsubishi, which was now just visible up the hill. Luis, apparently not used to physical activity, lagged behind. To cover him, Brodie pivoted with the AK as they ran, firing short bursts at the Hen House, keying off his white tracer rounds to zero in on the dark building. He pegged one guy, and saw another duck back inside.
As they got closer to the Mitsubishi, Brodie saw Taylor taking cover behind the open driver’s-side door. She fired a few rounds past them as they approached the car.
“Get in!” shouted Brodie.
Taylor squeezed off another two rounds, then jumped in the driver’s seat. Brodie heard the soft pop of Luis’ Beretta behind him; then it sounded like the mag was empty, and Luis tossed the pistol in the road and drew his other gun.
From the bottom of the slope, a white pickup truck roared uphill past the Hen House, its high beams on. Apparently the colectivo had been alerted and the posse was arriving. Brodie dropped to one knee and took a firing stance.
Luis was running past him, out of breath, and Brodie called out, “Take the back seat and tell Taylor to turn the car around!”
He heard the rat-a-tat of automatic fire as the oncoming truck weaved between the