Dishonor 2 Pistols Zip - Death Before

Lobo’s smile didn’t waver. He pulled out a second pistol—a compact .22 with a suppressor already threaded on. “Then you die knowing something true. Shame you won’t tell anyone.”

Kael walked closer, knelt in front of him, and pressed the warm suppressor under Lobo’s chin.

Then one finger twitched.

The .22 had grazed his skull—plowed a furrow above his left ear, knocked him cold, stopped just short of his brain. Enough blood to fool anyone. Not enough to finish the job. Death Before Dishonor 2 Pistols Zip

Kael groaned. Mud filled his mouth. He rolled onto his side, pain detonating behind his eyes. His hands were still bound. The plastic cut deeper when he struggled.

Kael dragged himself through glass and runoff. His forehead left a red smear on the rocks. His fingers found the pistol’s grip.

“Death before dishonor,” Kael said. “But I’m not dead. So I guess you’re the one who lost honor.” Lobo’s smile didn’t waver

Kael stood in the doorway. Head bandaged. Left hand wrapped in bloody cloth. Right hand holding Lobo’s own silenced .22.

Zip.

Not toward the road. Not toward help.

They dragged Kael by the zip-ties. The plastic cut deeper, but Kael didn’t feel that either.

Toward the second pistol.

He crawled.

Kael spat rainwater. “The message was for you . Your boss sold out to the Zetas two years ago. I just proved it.”