Page 93 of Steel Vengeance
He had a couple of rounds left in his AK and ten shots in his Glock. Enough to take down one man.
The alleyways between the containers were dark and narrow, the sun barely touching the gaps. Stitch’s pulse was steady, his senses sharp.
I’m coming for you, you son of a bitch.
A sudden burst of gunfire forced him to duck behind a container. He peeked around the corner—nothing. He fired a few shots to cover his advance, then ran to the next intersection.
No sign of Omari.
He paused, listening. Footsteps echoed to his right. He followed, hearing gunfire in the distance—Blade taking care of the other mercenaries. A short, controlled burst. One down, two to go.
Stitch kept moving. Another round of bullets tore through the container ahead, forcing him to dive for cover. He returned fire, spraying bullets down the alley.
Eventually, the shooting stopped. Must be low on ammo.
Stitch continued his pursuit.
When he reached the end of the row of containers, he spotted a robed figure darting toward a warehouse.
Omari.
He ran after him, only to hear a voice behind him bark, “Drop the gun!”
Stitch stopped in his tracks.
Fuck.
Then who the hell had he been chasing? Slowly, he set his rifle on the ground and raised his hands in the air.
“And the pistol.”
Grimacing, Stitch took out his Glock and tossed it away.
“Turn around,” the Afghan warlord barked.
Stitch pivoted, keeping his hands up. He glared at his adversary, feeling the rage firing hot molten lava through his veins. Instead of losing it, it gave him total clarity.
Omari’s eyes narrowed. “Who are you?”
“I’m the man who’s been hunting you down.”
The dark eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“You burned down my village, killed my people, and murdered my wife.”
Omari frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t play dumb. You ordered my village destroyed because the elders wouldn’t support your drug operation.”
Omari sneered. “You’re insane. I don’t deal in drugs.”
Stitch laughed bitterly. “You can say that with a straight face as your heroin sails out of this port?”
Omari’s expression hardened. “I don’t have time for this.”
“May 25, 2023. Ring any bells?”
A flicker of recognition flashed across Omari’s face.