Read Online Wiseguys: Blast From the Past by Aaron Michaels - Free Book Online
Authors: Aaron Michaels
Tags: gay romance
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goggles.
At best, he'd get one, maybe two shots before the guy trained his own gun on Tony. The best bet would be a shot to the guy's torso, the biggest target, but so far all Tony could see of the guy was his goggled head and the gun he held out in front of himself.
Tony made himself wait. Kept his hand steady, his breathing light and as quiet as he could. He watched as the guy swept the front room with his gun, his goggled head slowly turning in Tony's direction.
When the goggles were pointed directly at him, Tony froze. He didn't breathe, didn't move, didn't even blink. Not enough of the guy was in the room to take a chance at shooting him. If Tony shot now and the bullet didn't take the guy down, Tony would be as good as dead.
In reality, the guy probably didn't look in Tony's direction any longer than at any other point he examined with his night vision gear, but to Tony it felt like an eternity. The guy turned to the corner where Carter had been sitting. The guy lowered his head to look at the floor where he no doubt expected Carter to be bleeding out.
This shooter was a pro. He didn't flinch when he saw the floor was empty, but he did take one more step into the room.
It had to be enough. Tony couldn't wait any longer.
He let his breath out and squeezed the trigger.
Stuffing sprayed out from the pillow along with the bullet. The sound of the shot wasn't as loud as it would have been without the pillow of muffle it, but the noise was still startling in the absolute silence of the house.
The guy with the goggles turned back to Tony before Tony could even tell if his bullet hit the mark. Tony squeezed the trigger again and again. And again, hoping each time that one of the bullets did enough damage to keep the guy from firing back.
They didn't.
The guy fired. Tony winced, but the guy's shot went wide and smacked into the wall to Tony's left.
Then the guy crumpled to his knees, and Tony saw a wet patch glistening on the front of his dark shirt.
Tony stayed where he was until the guy face planted on the floor. Moving as fast as he could, Tony got out from behind the couch and kicked the guy's gun away from his outstretched hand, then picked it up. He checked the guy's pulse under the jaw line. He still had one, but it didn't seem like a strong, steady beat. Tony didn't want the guy dying in his house, but he wasn't the one who'd brought the fight here.
Tony thought about taking the night vision goggles, but decided against it. Now wasn't the time to play around with technology he'd never used before. The gun, though -- that Tony kept. The guy'd only fired four shots, and a suppressor was better than a pillow any day.
The adrenaline rush Tony had felt when the guy first turned the door knob was beginning to wear off. His side hurt and his head pounded, but the job wasn't over yet. There were two more guys out there.
He risked a quick look out the open door. Nothing moved in the shadows. No more black-clad men in night vision gear crept up their driveway. Did that mean the other two would be coming around the back?
He hadn't heard anything from Carter since he left to cover the back of the house. Carter hadn't yelled for him after the shooting started, but then again, Carter wouldn't. He'd wait until the fighting was over to make sure Tony was okay.
The decision to join Carter at the rear of the house was an easy one. Tony padded softly down the hall and into the kitchen, pausing to check at each open doorway in case someone had come in through a downstairs window. No one had.
"It's me," he said softly when he got to the kitchen.
Their back door opened off to the right of the stove onto a little concrete pad where Carter had set up a gas grill. The top half of the back door was a lattice-pane window. Their back yard neighbors had landscaping spotlights that illuminated their trees. The realtor who'd first shown them this house warned them that some people found the lights annoying, but they were within
At best, he'd get one, maybe two shots before the guy trained his own gun on Tony. The best bet would be a shot to the guy's torso, the biggest target, but so far all Tony could see of the guy was his goggled head and the gun he held out in front of himself.
Tony made himself wait. Kept his hand steady, his breathing light and as quiet as he could. He watched as the guy swept the front room with his gun, his goggled head slowly turning in Tony's direction.
When the goggles were pointed directly at him, Tony froze. He didn't breathe, didn't move, didn't even blink. Not enough of the guy was in the room to take a chance at shooting him. If Tony shot now and the bullet didn't take the guy down, Tony would be as good as dead.
In reality, the guy probably didn't look in Tony's direction any longer than at any other point he examined with his night vision gear, but to Tony it felt like an eternity. The guy turned to the corner where Carter had been sitting. The guy lowered his head to look at the floor where he no doubt expected Carter to be bleeding out.
This shooter was a pro. He didn't flinch when he saw the floor was empty, but he did take one more step into the room.
It had to be enough. Tony couldn't wait any longer.
He let his breath out and squeezed the trigger.
Stuffing sprayed out from the pillow along with the bullet. The sound of the shot wasn't as loud as it would have been without the pillow of muffle it, but the noise was still startling in the absolute silence of the house.
The guy with the goggles turned back to Tony before Tony could even tell if his bullet hit the mark. Tony squeezed the trigger again and again. And again, hoping each time that one of the bullets did enough damage to keep the guy from firing back.
They didn't.
The guy fired. Tony winced, but the guy's shot went wide and smacked into the wall to Tony's left.
Then the guy crumpled to his knees, and Tony saw a wet patch glistening on the front of his dark shirt.
Tony stayed where he was until the guy face planted on the floor. Moving as fast as he could, Tony got out from behind the couch and kicked the guy's gun away from his outstretched hand, then picked it up. He checked the guy's pulse under the jaw line. He still had one, but it didn't seem like a strong, steady beat. Tony didn't want the guy dying in his house, but he wasn't the one who'd brought the fight here.
Tony thought about taking the night vision goggles, but decided against it. Now wasn't the time to play around with technology he'd never used before. The gun, though -- that Tony kept. The guy'd only fired four shots, and a suppressor was better than a pillow any day.
The adrenaline rush Tony had felt when the guy first turned the door knob was beginning to wear off. His side hurt and his head pounded, but the job wasn't over yet. There were two more guys out there.
He risked a quick look out the open door. Nothing moved in the shadows. No more black-clad men in night vision gear crept up their driveway. Did that mean the other two would be coming around the back?
He hadn't heard anything from Carter since he left to cover the back of the house. Carter hadn't yelled for him after the shooting started, but then again, Carter wouldn't. He'd wait until the fighting was over to make sure Tony was okay.
The decision to join Carter at the rear of the house was an easy one. Tony padded softly down the hall and into the kitchen, pausing to check at each open doorway in case someone had come in through a downstairs window. No one had.
"It's me," he said softly when he got to the kitchen.
Their back door opened off to the right of the stove onto a little concrete pad where Carter had set up a gas grill. The top half of the back door was a lattice-pane window. Their back yard neighbors had landscaping spotlights that illuminated their trees. The realtor who'd first shown them this house warned them that some people found the lights annoying, but they were within
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