I had wisely chosen not to park in the yard, leaving myself the option to drive away in case of any unexpected situations, of which there had been quite a few lately.

Since the yard was essentially a box with one passage for entrance and exit, it could quickly turn into a trap, where all it took was to block the only path to prevent anyone from leaving, either on foot or by car. So, I left my hatchback near the windows of our apartment, right opposite the tree I could jump onto if our apartment was suddenly assaulted.

I stayed there for about ten minutes before convincing myself that the coast was clear. How exactly did I determine it did? Not sure. I just waited there and carefully surveyed the surroundings from the cab, noting the cars around the road and in front of the archway. I also checked if anyone was sitting in them. All I could do was hope that they didn't hide somewhere like me.

Is it time?

I didn't want to leave the car at all, but I had no choice. I had the uncanny feeling they were everywhere, watching my every move. But I needed my cargo, and the sooner I got it, the better. So, tucking my gun into my pocket, I got out of the car without even bothering to lock it and headed quickly toward the archway.

As I approached, I briefly scanned the street but saw nothing: no movement, no people, no driving cars.

Entering the archway into the yard, I pulled out my gun, ready to shoot. I quickly moved through it in a half-crouch, as this was the most vulnerable spot on the entire journey, and immediately entered the pigsty of a courtyard. By evening, it was filled entirely with cars that were parked absolutely everywhere and provided decent cover, both for me and for a potential ambush.

Still in a half-crouch, I hid behind one of the cars, then slowly peeked out, scanning the yard with my eyes. All this time, I was plagued by certain thoughts about Arrow.

How are the thugs I'm dealing with different from me?

They're not.

They're not soldiers, not professional killers, not ex-mercenaries. If they were, I would've been killed ten times over, even in the same house along with my mother. Or they could just catch me when I was running through the backyard. Or surround that factory better at night. But they couldn't - because they didn't have the necessary skills. Their knowledge of warfare was just like mine and everyone else's who had never participated in such a thing - from films, books, historical facts, and simple logic. They were ordinary thugs who could barely shoot. I even spoke to some of them and knew that some were ordinary factory workers, others were from various sports clubs and had jobs. Only a few had been soldiers at some point, but those days, along with their skills and experience, were long past. And Arrow likely wouldn't let them stray too far.

Arrow was merely a mafia soldier - the lowest rank in the entire organization. And his guys were of the same ilk. Ordinary beefed-up thugs who couldn't shoot any better than new recruits who had only been to the shooting range a couple of times. Their combat knowledge was just as limited.

Sure, they knew how to aim, how to use an automatic rifle, how to shoot in general, and had a bit of experience in such stuff. But I knew and could do the same. I knew how to aim, how to shoot, how to handle a weapon. Their only advantage was in numbers. I realized this when one of them simply went for the front door. Perhaps next time, they will try to flank, having learned from bitter experience, but for now, it merely meant that they were incapable of anything beyond shooting haphazardly or at unarmed people.

Why did the clan, which is quite powerful, send such riff-raff to capture me, guys who can barely shoot just as I can, let alone know any tactics? If the flash drive was so important, the Hassa would have mobilized all their killers and impulse users; they would have thrown everything they could find at us and would not have sent just four men to each of our homes but forty. We would have been pursued by killers and real cutthroats with combat experience. I wouldn't be able to climb over a fence to escape such people, let alone be able to shoot them down.

But it's not an army of hardened fighters chasing me, but ordinary thugs. And moreover, thugs exclusively from Arrow's lot.

In other words, out of the entire Hassa, only Arrow is hunting me.

The second point that bothers me is that the clan never interacts with the house, except in certain instances. Sure, some squabbles and even bloodshed do happen, but no one wants that, and they often settle for peace. There's even an unwritten rule that clans don't feud with houses and, if anything, resolve everything peacefully. It varies from country to country, and in some places, the houses themselves act as clans, but in our country, that's exactly how it is.

Why is the clan suddenly robbing the house several times? Why is that?

Alright, let's say they want to cause trouble. But then, why does the clan entrust us with such a task? Let's be honest - we're just a gang. Maybe a well-functioning one, but a gang nonetheless. We can be sent to fight with bandits, as expendable pawns, so it looks like a clash between two gangs. One bunch of idiots shooting at another bunch of idiots. I can understand all that.

But to send such a bunch to rob the house's cash collectors? To send those who practically have no experience in it?

Furthermore, if the clan suddenly decides to rob the house, they should do it cleanly, and the amount should be substantial. And what happened? The info we got wasn't very accurate, which made everything quite messy, and the profit was only around six hundred grand. The bank branch turnover, if you believe the internet, is ten times higher.

Okay, perhaps Arrow was asked to attack the cash collectors so that in case anything goes wrong, he would take all the blame - like it was his own doing, and he picked the people he had at his disposal. But a bank in the downtown? With twenty million and some very personal information belonging to the house? Could that also have been entrusted to Arrow, who has ordinary, neither very smart nor capable bouncers and robbers at his disposal?

Fine, let's assume the clan needed robbers somehow not connected to them, which meant they couldn't send their own guys. But I'll never believe they couldn't find more skilled robbers than us. With their money, they could've hired someone much better, someone unconnected to them, with far more experience. Hire those who would do everything cleaner and be easier to get rid of. We simply don't fit that, except for the possibility that...

This whole thing is purely Arrow's initiative. Those sloppy bandits who can't even handle us, we ourselves, the plans, the equipment... Arrow used all the resources available to him. Had he tried to take more, had he tried to ask someone for help, his plan would've been exposed.

This only means that neither the clan nor the house knows who arranged this.

Hence, Arrow is on his own and can't rally anyone against us. While I can somewhat impose my conditions. And I don't have to worry about meeting cold pros who crush people like me as nuts. Just ordinary thugs who know no more than I do. We'll be equals in strength.

Stolen story; please report.

Now, huddled up in a yard against someone's car, I carefully peered through its windows, surveying the area. The fact that no one was running towards me was already good, as was the fact that it seemed like there was no one...

But as soon as I thought about it, I was immediately illuminated by headlights - some car had turned into the yard. Lit me up like a rabbit on a night road.

I didn't even bother to think too long. I bolted away. If it's one of the local residents, they'll think I'm a thief or a carjacker, but if it's the people of...

"There he is! Catch him!"

No, it's Arrow's people, after all, as sad as it is. And they need me alive, I understand, so they won't shoot at me without reason. But I doubt they won't fire back if I start it: they don't look like the kind who would brave bullets for a grand cause.

Though I'm fat and run slower than they do, I still had a head start. I reached the entrance when they were halfway from the arch. And then there was my eternal enemy - the staircase... By the time I was climbing the second floor, they were already at the entrance. So, even just comparing how long it took them and me to cover the same distance, it was clear that they would catch up to me much faster than I would get to the right door on the fourth floor.

Therefore, without stopping, gasping from such a load, I pulled out the gun and simply fired back a few times. The roar echoed through the stairwell. There were shouts from below.

"Take cover!"

And a second later, they began shooting up the stairwell. Several bullets sparked off the railing right next to me. I don't know what they were hoping for by starting a shootout here but hitting me was definitely not meant to be.

The stomping from below started again, and, sticking my hand into the gap between the stairs, I fired several shots blindly, not even stopping to aim. This time, however, no one fired back, apparently realizing it was useless. But they were climbing up much more aggressively.

When I was on the fourth floor, they were already on the third.

Now, I just had to open the door before they turned me into a sieve. My breath wheezed out of my practically burning lungs, which were already gasping for air, and my liver was mercilessly aching, as if it was being stabbed with needles. Holding the pistol in one hand, I aimed it toward the stairwell while trying to fit the key into the lock with my other hand.

At that moment, I saw my pursuers in the stairwell. Without a moment's hesitation, I fired several shots but missed each time, only managing to chip off plaster and pieces of old paint from the wall, leaving small craters where the bullets hit. In the meantime, I managed to unlock one of the two locks.

They were just trying to poke their heads out when I started firing again, forcing them to hide back. In response, they attempted to shoot blindly from cover but hit only the wall next to me. The debris from the impacts scratched my cheek a few times, but nothing more. I kept shooting until the pistol clicked empty.

"He's out of ammo! Grab him!"

They charged, but just then, the second lock clicked open, and I dashed into the apartment. I barely slid behind the wooden door when a burst from an automatic riddled the neighbor's door. I immediately slammed mine shut and locked all the locks.

I ran straight to the living room, where the mattresses were stacked. Throwing the furthest one aside, I began searching for the stash Malu had told me about. It would have been funny if there was nothing here. At one point during my frantic search, my heart skipped a beat when I couldn't find anything...

Until I paid attention to the wall. There were creases visible on the old, worn-out wallpaper - as if there was some kind of door behind them. Well... Not exactly a door, a piece of plywood that covered a cavity. The bag was inside.

A quick glance into it was enough to confirm Malu's words. The bastard really managed to pocket something.

Thanks, Malu. When I put this to use, you'll be pleased and can rest in peace.

I've never indulged in conversations with the dead, but right now, these thoughts brought a slight relief and even a bit of joy.

Meanwhile, Arrow's men were banging on the door and trying to negotiate my surrender.

"Box! Stop running! You can't get out of here now! And the police won't make it here in time if you're counting on them! They're busy with something else. Besides, we've already cornered Syringa, and if you resist, it won't end well for her!"

"How do I know she's not in on it with you?!" I shouted back.

"She might indeed turn out to be more cooperative than you. And don't think you can hide in the apartment. We'll get you out of there!"

"Try then!"

They began to break down the door.

I could have already made my exit, but I decided it was best to cover my tracks and leave a little surprise.

The surprise was a grenade. I carefully bent the pin and nearly fully pulled the safety lever, so it was just about to pop out. After this, I kicked through the thin wooden partition in the hallway and shoved the grenade into the resulting hole. I hurriedly searched the apartment for a long wire from a phone charger, then carefully tied one end to the grenade pin and the other to the door handle. The door opened inward, so when they flung it open, they would hardly notice the wire in the dark and would surely rush in here as if they were stung by a swarm of bees. At least, that's the kind of raids I had witnessed while working with them.

After setting this up, I returned to the room where I had first met the team that changed my life. I still genuinely believed that I could reclaim my old life, or at least a part of it. I just needed to cut ties and save Nataliel. And... check on Mom... Yes, I would definitely need to call my sister and ask about her.

I crumpled the bed sheets into a heap, stacked the mattresses on top of each other, tore the wallpaper off the walls, and then found the plastic lighter that Syringa and Malu had used here. The wallpaper happily caught fire, quickly turning into a blaze.

That's it. No turning back now.

I opened the window and looked outside. Sirens could be heard, but they were far off. It seemed that the police were stretched thin tonight, so they wouldn't get here immediately. As for a possible ambush, I didn't see any signs of one from here. They probably never thought I would dare to jump from the fourth floor.

They underestimated me.

First, down went the bag. I dropped it onto the tree, and it fell, breaking branches and crunching them like crisps until it eventually hit the ground. Now, it was my turn. The tree wasn't too far away, so jumping onto it wasn't that terrifying. There was an illusion that the fall wouldn't be that long, and the fear that surged from the upcoming jump wasn't that intense. The key was to focus only on the tree, not the asphalt that lay way below.

But what motivated me to jump was the crack of the breaking door. Prompted by the realization that nothing good would come of it if I continued to hesitate, I pushed off the windowsill with my legs. My heart gave a jolt when my feet left solid ground, making me gasp. Then came the short flight and the branches that started to hit my puffer jacket and sometimes my face.

At some point, I didn't even feel myself slowing down. It seemed I was continuing to fall, regardless of anything. But then - one large branch, then another, then a strong hit to my leg, and I finally hung on the tree, having scratched my face a bit. I could have easily lost an eye.

An explosion rang out from the apartment I had abandoned, blowing out the kitchen windows and generously scattering the neighborhood with glass shards. Now, the police would definitely come here, and nothing would stop them. They could somewhat ignore gunfire, but an explosion in a residential building... I wouldn't be surprised if the State Security Department and the Organized Crime Department also showed up. If they arrive for such an event, nobody will be asked to put down their weapons twice; after the first warning, whether you agree or not, your gun will end up on the ground anyway.

Quickly, not caring that branches were tearing at my coat, I jumped to the ground, picked up the bag, and rushed to the car. After throwing the cargo onto the passenger seat, I jumped behind the wheel, started the car, and jolted away from the spot, leaving behind, I hoped, the bodies of those who were after me. The more I kill, the fewer people Arrow will have.

If he's alone in this and acting on his own initiative, the loss will be critical for him. Now, the clan will keep as quiet as a mouse, trying to show their non-involvement both to the OCD and the SSD, as well as to the house. This means if he suddenly decides to hire people to replace the dead, the clan boss will most likely find out, and then Arrow himself will have to hide from his own. And I'm sure he'll have to hide from the house, too, as the boss will immediately turn in the errant soldier to maintain the status quo. Now, all that was left was to cut his forces down, and the more, the better.

Also, I can say for sure that the city will be practically locked down tomorrow after everything that's happened. There will be so many police that even breathing will be hard. This means we'll need a new place to regroup.