PREVIEW
... s in hand, their faces twisted with suicidal resolve. "Die, you fucking pigs!" They roared, unloading a storm of bullets on the police line. The barrage shredded engines, blew out tires, and pinned the cops down, forcing them to cower behind their cars or crawl under chassis, praying not to catch a stray round. These weren’t men fighting to win; they were dead men walking, hell-bent on stalling the cops long enough for Fisk to slip away.
High above, Stan watched the chaos through his bin ...
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