Snippet #2501649

It had been a few days since the incident at the club. Bachmann gave the Russians the address of his building, but so far they hadn't shown up. They called every few hours to let him know they'd be there when he needed them. He needed them now. He hadn't been outside since he found out the Yakuza were in town.

The police knew his name. Surely there was at least one detective or cop looking into his connection to Jackson. One was too many.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuckity... fuck!" The Jewish hitman said in panic. He didn't like the waiting. Usually he was the hunter, now he was being hunted. It was easy to be confident when you know your target didn't survive, that they couldn't come for you.

Jackson was coming for Bachmann. The rented cars and vans full of his solders waiting outside of Bachmann's apartment were there for the assassin too.

"Are you sure this is it?" Jackson asked one of the men in his van, "Yeah. He keeps peeking out of that window. He's really freaked out." The ganster answered, "Okay. We'll head inside, grab him and bring him out. I want to take him back to Cheri for this." Jackson told his men, sliding one of the van doors open and climbing out.

"Luis, Maurico, Shiro, I want you with me. When Suki gets here tell her to park around back, we'll bring the Jew there. I want the rest of you keeping an eye on the street." Jackson ordered, "We might have drawn attention, the hitman might have called in protection. Don't be afraid to turn this street into Vietnam."

Armed with his trusty revolver Jackson and his three men charged the apartment building. It was time to end their visit to Van Leugen.