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When Do Bullets Cry?

She was caught between a very hard rock and a very hard place; bullets showered around her like it was raining. Chips of stone, plaster and dust covered her, making her look like alien ghost. She knew that she was out-gunned and out-numbered. This hit squad had pulled no stops; they meant business.

Mags had been out on a shopping spree and happened to come to this particular Mall because it was her favourite, and she loved the fountain. But it ended up a different night than what she expected.

In all the noise, she could feel the vibration of her cellphone. Mags tapped the screen and brought it to her ear. There were tear streaks in her dust covered face; she had been crying.

"It's getting close," she said into the phone.

"Hold on, I am almost there," Max's voice told her. 

"I can do that," she replied grimly.

"You okay?" he asked; he knew Maggie lived for combat but something sounded off.

"I'm fine," she replied, and after a short pause she added, "But they got Suki."

The young girl was sprawled out on the floor near Mags. She could see her bullet-ridden body. It would jig every now and then as a stray bullet hit it. Mags was crouched in cover, a furnace of rage inside her. There was nothing she would like to do more than put each and every one of those sons-of-bitches through hell first before putting a bullet in each of their heads.

"Max," Maggie said after a few moments. "Let's do this one by the book."

There was a silence on the phone, then Max said, "Fuckin' A."