Hardy pulled down his hood, grabbed his Chicago typewriter, and said solemnly, “Action!”
Two cars screeched to a halt at the entrance of the club. The Spanish gang members assigned to keep order noticed the commotion and moved to check on the situation.
“Out of the car!” Hardy’s deep voice commanded as he opened his door and stepped out first.
The security personnel were stunned when they saw several masked men armed with machine guns exiting the vehicles. Instinctively, they reached for their guns.
“Rat-tat-tat!”
Gunfire erupted, and the guards at the entrance were riddled with bullets, collapsing into pools of blood.
Hardy led the charge into the club, his gun ready, followed closely by six of his men. As soon as they entered the hall, more Spanish gang members appeared, alerted by the gunfire.
They barely had time to react before Matthew aimed his weapon and opened fire.
“Ahhh!”
Screams filled the air as several gang members were gunned down on the spot. Another man tried to rush in from a side passage, but he was quickly taken out by Hardy’s crew. It was an easy task for Neil and the others—these low-level thugs posed little challenge.
Meanwhile, the guests in the hall, terrified by the violence, dropped to the floor, covering their heads. The women screamed uncontrollably.
Ignoring the chaos, Hardy strode deeper into the building. Henry took point and soon led them to the entrance of the underground casino.
The door was locked—likely a desperate attempt by the gangsters inside, who had heard the gunshots, to protect themselves.
“Neil, open it,” Hardy instructed calmly.
Neil approached, removing his backpack. Matthew and the others quickly took cover around the corner—they knew what was coming.
Neil pulled out an explosive, attached it to the door, and lit the fuse before calmly walking back to the corner.
“Hissss…”
Boom!
The wooden door exploded into splinters. As the smoke and debris settled, the remnants of the door were gone, revealing the underground gambling hall beyond.
Two bodies lay mangled on the ground near the entrance, their pistols nearby. They had been hiding behind the door, but they didn’t expect to be blown straight to hell.
“Ahhh!”
Inside, nearly two hundred guests screamed in terror. The earlier gunfire had already shaken them, but the explosion pushed them over the edge.
Leo and Kerry rushed into the room, with Richard and the others close behind. The terrified gamblers shrank back into the corners, unsure of what might happen next.
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Hardy surveyed the scene, noting that the situation was under control. Neil, Leo, and Kerry, seasoned veterans of such operations, quickly took up advantageous positions, keeping everyone in check.
Suddenly, a man in the crowd raised a gun, aiming at Hardy and his crew. But before he could act, Richard’s revolver was already pointed at him.
Bang!
The bullet struck the man squarely in the forehead, and he crumpled to the floor. Richard was an expert marksman—he had been watching the crowd and spotted the man’s intentions before he could make a move.
The room erupted into chaos again, but no one dared to resist further. Some women were crying quietly, too scared to do anything that might anger the robbers.
With the situation now firmly under control, Hardy stepped forward and addressed the room. “Stay down, and we won’t make this difficult for you. But if anyone tries anything, I won’t hesitate to put a few bullets in them.”
The casino guests, realizing they were not the target, stayed huddled in the corner, not daring to move.
Among the crowd, a middle-aged man was holding a beautiful woman in his arms. She trembled in fear, clinging to him like a frightened kitten. He gently stroked her back, whispering, “It’s okay, darling. I’m here.”
While comforting the woman, the man continued to watch the robbers closely.
Hardy walked over to the chip exchange counter. Behind the window, the cashier was trembling uncontrollably.
“Open the door,” Hardy commanded in a cold tone.
“No, please don’t kill me!” the woman cried.
“As long as you cooperate.”
Terrified, the woman stood up, unlocked the door, and collapsed onto the floor, quivering in fear.
Henry and Matthew rushed inside, quickly locating the box containing the money. They opened it, revealing stacks of cash—far more than what they had seen during their scouting trip two days earlier. They quickly closed the box and carried it out.
“Boss, we got it,” Henry reported quietly to Hardy.
“Time to go.”
Hardy signaled for the others to retreat. Moving with precision, the group covered each other as they exited the casino in batches, heading swiftly toward their getaway cars. Sean and Ryder had the vehicles ready. The seven men jumped in, and within moments, the cars sped away from the Spanish Casino Club.
The entire operation had taken only five or six minutes.
Inside the casino, the guests were too terrified to move for over ten minutes. When it became clear the robbers were gone, someone finally stood up and realized the coast was clear. The room erupted into a frenzy as people rushed to leave.
In the parking lot, the middle-aged man helped the trembling woman into his car. He glanced back at the bloodied bodies of the Spanish gang members and reflected on the precision and speed of the robbers.
He had brought the woman here for a blackjack contest, not expecting to witness a robbery. From the moment the shooting started to the blowing open of the door and the quick departure, the robbers had executed their plan flawlessly in just a few minutes. The gang members hadn’t stood a chance.
These weren’t ordinary criminals, the man thought to himself as he drove the woman back to Beverly Hills. They were military—highly trained, disciplined.
Back at his mansion, after the woman went to shower, the man picked up the phone and made a call.
“Fred, the Spanish Casino at McKinsey Club was hit tonight. I was there. Look into it.”
Fred, startled, replied, “Mr. Siegel, are you alright?”
“I’m fine.”
“Understood. I’ll investigate and get back to you with the details.”
Meanwhile, Hardy and his crew made a clean getaway. They moved so quickly that by the time anyone thought to report the robbery, the group had already driven the stolen cars to a secluded spot, switched to their own vehicles, and returned to their safe house.
Inside the factory, the atmosphere was electric with excitement. They opened the suitcases to reveal stacks of cash.
“Boss, we did it! There’s got to be at least two hundred grand here,” Henry said with a grin.
Matthew grabbed a few wads of cash and held them to his nose, inhaling deeply. “We’re rich! Hahaha!”
Everyone was in high spirits, but Hardy remained calm. He’d seen far larger sums in his previous life, and two hundred grand didn’t impress him.
“Don’t get ahead of yourselves,” Hardy said, patting Matthew on the shoulder. “Count it carefully. Once we know exactly how much we have, we’ll talk about how to split it.”
“Got it, boss!” the men replied, immediately setting to work counting the money.