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... kill him fled like terrified kids. He had no feelings. No arrogance. No respite. He just saw the next move.
He raised his pistol. He had a steady arm. He aimed it at their rear ends. He squeezed the trigger with his finger.
There was a loud crack in the club as the shot was fired. Then another. And yet another. The loud music was broken by the gun’s constant, quick burst of noise. His gun fired so quickly that the men had no time to think. They had no time to respond.
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