Page 101 of Sing For Us

“Hana, you got eyes on the restaurant?”

“Confirmed.”

“Adam, what do you see? Over,” I ask him through the earpiece.

“Five guards on the outer perimeter. Eleven guards inside the establishment. Four downstairs, seven upstairs. Over.”

“Where are Evan and Lucas? Over.”

“I see them on the top floor in what seems to be a study. Confirm kill shot. Over.”

“Hold off on kill shot. Have our back first. Over.”

“Understood. Good luck. Over.”

Sixteen men might seem like a hard task, but they should’ve brought more. Being outnumbered doesn’t mean shit to me, being outmatched does.

And we have the upper hand on the latter.

Oliver and Josh are stationed at the back of the restaurant, while Sara and Lana are on either side of me. I’m in good and capable hands because of these ladies.

The night has descended, and the scent of freshly mown grass is overpowering. I look to my right, and I can see Sara’s eyes darting from left to right, calibrating on how to take out the three men in front of us. To my left, Lana’s doing the same thing. I look at the guards, and they are rooted in one place, scoping out any danger, and I decide it’s time to attack.

“Josh, Oliver, confirm your positions. Over.”

Josh’s voice comes through the earpiece. “Confirmed. See you inside. Over.”

I look at both ladies and make a motion with my fingers that it’s time to get this party going. Their insidious smiles confirm they are ready to go. There are three guards here; one for me, one for Sara, and one for Lana.

Sara takes out her gun with a silencer on it, and Lana does the same. I grab my cleaver and am ready to throw it at the guard in the middle, in hopes that it pierces through his chest.

My cleaver is almost ready to fly when Adam’s voice screams into my earpiece…

“A truck has arrived with a bunch of angry motherfuckers! Abort the attack. Over.”

We stop what we’re doing and retreat into the shadows. My heart is pounding, and my ears are ringing. What the fuck is happening?

“Hana, talk to me!”

“You’ve got company. Don’t do anything fucking stupid.”

“Who has arrived?” I ask her, while deep down I know the answer. My lips are dry, and I’m failing to take control of my breathing.

“Dario.”

The crisp, clean smell of freshly mown grass suddenly feels mocking, domestic, and wrong given the violence I’m about to inflict on that sadistic bastard. The cool night wind hits my skin, but my blood is boiling.

The static click of my earpiece ensures that my gaze is laser-focused on the truck coming in from the side of the restaurant. The muscles in my cheek jump as I grind my teeth hard. All color and blood drain from my face and pool in my gut like heavy lead. Memories of Dario’s cruelty flash like a strobe light in my mind, and I stop thinking about the plan overall and lock onto one single goal: killing my father.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Adam warns me, probably watching me through his scope.

“Shut. Up.”

“Fuck. I’m coming down.”

He can do whatever he wants to; I need to obliterate my father.

I’m about to stand up, but Sara tackles me to the ground with her strong body. When she gets up, she’s waving her hands towards the truck and is wiggling her fingers.