✔ᵉⁿᵍˡⁱˢʰ Splinter Cell [Fast and Furious 07]✔

07

Charlie heard the roar of the second car's engine from far away. Hesitantly, because Charlie didn't know if he was right, it knocked several times against the edge of the Maserati's roof and finally disappeared behind the wall of stairs that led up to the upper street.

This was sheer madness. Madness.

At first there had been no sound, then the repeated howling of the engines of two cars. Pressed against the wall, Charlie peered around the corner. Both cars were facing each other, playing with the accelerator.

Stupid idea. Don't do it. You'll kill each other.

Too late. The two lunatics stepped on the gas, let go of the brakes, and raced toward each other. Please, let one of them swerve. One of them had to.

But what was she dreaming of? The two cars crashed into each other. The poor Maserati.

Seconds after the crash, the smoke cleared. The red car looked much more damaged than Deckard's gray one, which was only smashed in the front, while the red one was a total loss. Feeling hours passed before Deckard finally got out and Charlie could stop holding his breath and take a first breath. Only the bald guy had to heave himself out of the car.

"Never mess with a man's family," Deckard was the first to speak.

"That's exactly what I told your brother," Deckard had actually been right about the people at the funeral being responsible for Owen's hospitalization, "Reinforce Chassis. It's like stepping into the ring with steel reinforced gloves."

"Your mistake. I'm not here to play," and judging by the last few weeks, it was safe to assume it was long past a game, "You and me, we come from different worlds. Believe me, where I hang out is a lot harder than where you hang out."

"Oh, cry me a river," the bald man took a sledgehammer out of his car, "it's even harder than that."

"Did you think this was going to be a street fight?" Before Deckard could finish the sentence, he pointed a gun at his opponent.

And out of nowhere, shots came from the ceiling, and Charlie pressed himself even harder against the wall. Dozens of men in black fell from the ceiling like spiders. Where did they come from so quickly? In a flurry of gunfire, Deckard ran to the stairs from where she had been watching this death match. He hurried around the corner, past her, and only after a few steps did he realize that she was standing there, not moving an inch.

"You....",falling away from the belief that Charlie had not listened to him and despite the shooting, was still standing here, Deckard grabbed Charlie by the arm, dragged her behind him to a car nearby and looked at her, gasping, "Can you tell me what that action was about right now? You should go!"

"Don't yell at me! This action? Coming from the guy who thinks he has to stage a sudden death of all things," Charlie yelled back, struggling to keep her composure and sitting on her left leg, "Besides, all you did was tell me to get out. That's all."

"Are you serious?", upset because this couldn't be true, Deckard wiped his face and tried to sit down, which was easier said than done thanks to Charlie, "Do you always do this? Just do what you're told, if you ever do?"

"I should have gone to the office," Charlie started to swallow, then nodded and looked through the windshield, "just ignored your appearance. It could have been a wonderful day."

"But you're not," after a sideways glance Deckard put a hand on Charlie's neck, which she tried to get rid of with several shrugs, but he just pulled her close and rested his chin on her head, "Someone will kill me if anything happens to you. It's all right, okay? It's all good. It's all good."

"If you repeat that ten more times, I won't believe you," Charlie countered, feeling for Deckard's neck and closing the fingers of her right hand around it, "There was a reason I didn't want to have anything to do with any of this."

The same reason Charlie hadn't wanted to be a part of Owen's last job.