💀 Chapter 56: Brothers in Blood
(Killian POV)
“Hey, boss — we weren’t expecting you.”
“I’m aware.” My voice came out flat, measured. “I came to check in.”
The warehouse bustled beneath the flicker of fluorescents — forklifts humming, boots thudding, crates stacked to the ceiling. My men scrambled through rows of pallets, inventorying weapons, packaging shipments. Everything from handguns to military-grade launchers gleamed beneath the lights.
We’d been running operations out of this compound for a year without Liam’s dogs sniffing us out. Eighty-five percent of our product flowed through these walls. Loyal customers, quick turnover, fat profit. That was how you stayed alive in this business — no rules, no mercy, no heroes. Liam never learned that. He still believed there was honor among thieves.
I climbed the stairs to my office, passing the two guards at the landing. They nodded, eyes forward. Inside, my desk was littered with blueprints and ledgers — shipments scheduled, payments cleared, routes mapped. I booted my computer and scanned the live feed. Everything normal. Men moving crates. Nothing out of order.
Then — flicker.
The power cut for half a second before the generators kicked back in.
“Hm.” I frowned, tapping the monitor. Cameras rebooted. All clear. Maybe a grid hiccup. Still, I didn’t like surprises.
I was halfway through double-checking the manifests when the door burst open.
“Boss!”
I didn’t even look up. “What’s your problem, and why are you dripping sweat on my floor?”
“We—we got a situation! One of Liam’s men, he’s in the control room!”
That got my attention. Slowly, I raised my head. “Is that so?”
“Yes, boss. He—he killed everyone down there!”
“And how’d you live to tell me that?”
He swallowed. “They didn’t see me.”
I stood, holstering my pistol. “If you’re wrong, I’m beating the piss out of you for wasting my time.”
“Yes, boss.”
We hustled down the catwalk toward the east wing. Smoke lingered faintly in the air, the sharp tang of gunfire. When we reached the control corridor, bodies littered the floor — bullet holes clean through their skulls.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” I muttered. “Guess you weren’t lying.”
He pointed shakily. “He’s in there, boss. The control room.”
“Alright.” I drew my weapon. “We’ll take the back route.”
A hidden door waited behind a stack of crates — a wall panel only I and two others knew existed. I shoved it open, pressing to the side. Gunfire echoed from inside — short, controlled bursts. Not a panic fight. Someone who knew what they were doing.
I motioned to my man. “Stay sharp.”
We crept through. I caught movement — a shadow slumped in a chair, muttering curses under his breath.
“Don’t. Fucking. Move.”
He froze, hands lifting. “Alright, alright. You got me.”
“One chance,” I growled. “Drop the gun, or I paint the wall with your skull.”
“Okay, okay. Be cool, man.”
He set the pistol down. I kicked it aside, keeping my aim steady.
“Now,” I said, “turn around. Slowly.”
He spun the chair — and my lips curled into a vicious grin.
“Well, well. John.”
His jaw tightened. “Killian. You’re not supposed to be here.”
“Neither are you. Get up.”
He lunged, kicking the chair into my soldier and slamming me against the wall. Pain shot through my ribs. He grabbed my wrist, bashing my knuckles against concrete, trying to make me drop the gun.
I drove my forehead into his face. Crack. Blood sprayed. He staggered back, clutching his nose — and I shot him in the knee.
He screamed, collapsing, clutching at his leg. My vision blurred red. I grabbed a fistful of his hair, yanking his head back, pressing the muzzle to his forehead.
“You gonna kill me, brother?” he spat through blood.
“I’m gonna kill all of you.”
“Damn,” he wheezed. “And here I was hoping we could talk it out.”
The gunfire outside intensified, echoing through the halls. My radio buzzed.
“Boss! Boss!”
I clicked it. “Better be good.”
“Liam’s here, boss!”
My jaw locked. “You sure?”
“Positive—ah, fuck—” static.
The line went dead.
“Move.”
John sneered. “You shot me in the knee, you dumb bastard. How the hell—”
“Shut up.” I signaled to my man. “Get him on his feet.”
We dragged him through smoke-filled corridors, alarms blaring overhead. The scent of cordite burned my nose. A guard rounded the corner; I dropped him with two rounds center mass.
We pressed through the back hall, unseen by most — one of many blind spots Liam’s intel never covered. I’d made sure of that.
By the time we reached my office, John was half-hopping, half-dragged. My man shoved him to the floor.
“Radio,” I snapped.
He handed it over.
“Hello, Liam.”
There was a pause — then, “Killian.”
“You know,” I said calmly, “if you wanted a family reunion, all you had to do was ask.”
“This ends tonight, Killian.”
“Yeah. It does. Wanna hear something?”
I shoved my pistol into John’s mouth. He gagged, muffled.
“You low-life bastard!” Liam’s voice cracked. “If you hurt him, I swear—”
“You’re under the illusion you’re in charge.” I pressed harder. “Put your guns down, come up here alone. Or I pull the trigger.”
“You’d kill your own brother?”
“You stopped being my brothers the day she bled out for your mistakes.”
“It was an accident!”
“No. It was your plan.”
He screamed over the radio, “Stop! I’m coming!”
Good.
When he finally stepped through the doorway, his eyes went straight to John — the blood, the wound, the gun jammed between his teeth.
“Good to see you, Liam.”
“You shot him.”
“Yeah, well,” I shrugged, “he wasn’t winning this round.”
“What do you want?”
“A trade. You for him.” I shoved the barrel deeper; John gagged.
Liam’s jaw tightened. “Alright. Enough. You can have me.”
He took a step forward. My men grabbed him, frisked for weapons.
“That’s right,” I taunted. “Keep walking.”
Then — fwip, fwip, fwip.
Three clean slices. Arterial spray.
My men collapsed, clutching their throats.
“What the—”
Klaus stepped from the shadows, haladies dripping crimson.
“You’ll regret that!” I snarled, backpedaling. I kicked John forward and emptied my clip — two in his chest, two in his skull — before bolting through the rear door.
Bullets whined past as I tore down the stairwell. Two more guards died at the base before I hit the side exit.
This wasn’t over.
Not by a long shot.