Gangster Squirrel Novels & Stories

- You see, now that you are calmer I want to inform you of where you have been. His previously lit face had darkened. My hairs stood on end. What he was about to tell me was not good. The Hunter in front of him was not the same one who was singing country in the shower. He was the one hired by the mafia to shoot and murder indiscriminately. That was the Hunter I feared and had him by my side. I looked down at my shaking hands. My hands never shook. Bad augury.

And why did I care how I looked next to him? We pulled up to a warehouse, massive, cold, guarded. But inside, it wasn’t some rundown dump. It was high-end. Organized. Controlled. Men with weapons, screens tracking routes, crates being moved like chess pieces. This wasn’t a gang. This was a machine. Deal Dynasty. And Hunter? He wasn’t just part of it. He was it. Everyone turned when he entered. Respect followed him like a shadow. And then… their eyes shifted to me. A tall guy with a cocky grin and too many chains around his neck spoke first. “Hunter finally brought her,” he said, like I was some myth they weren’t sure existed.

The doors slid open with a racket as hundreds of gangsters with machetes poured out. They surrounded us and glared at the scarred man and his crew. "What's this? Did Mr. Amos hire another gang to do his bidding too?" the scarred man muttered. A man in his 30s stepped out of one of the vans and bellowed, "I'm Jackie Cruz of the Dragoons! Which one of you motherfuckers tried to lay hands on Mr. Grimwald?!" He kicked the scarred man, sending him sprawling to the ground.

As he watched on while Micheal moved the woods out of the way, the sound of bikes came to limelight and he turned swiftly to see perhaps one gang he had known right from when had been leader at the round table approach them. The Skull was a group of notorious criminals who dealt in various selling of weaponry and also took on any mission depending on the wages that was stipulated. He had met them once while he was trying to ship the packages from the warehouse from New York to Canada and so, why they were here remained a mystery. Once they stopped right beside his car, Ciro got out to meet up with them. "Gentlemen, what a pleasant surprise" He said smiling as he approached them. Suddenly, on

So he put his engine on gear four, picking up speed, his face cap tightly secured over his head. As he pulled up side by side with his target, both like twin flames lighting up each other, following and synchronizing their moves, brought out their guns, one on the left side and the other on the right hand side. Fred recognized him, even with his glasses on. He was one to dig out information on who he was going after and he knew all the brothers in the cycle and how they looked like. This one right here was Dice, years in underground wrestling. He was addicted to gambling and was known as sneaker. Which meant he could pull up stunts on anyone, silently.

I rolled my eyes. Alfonso was a gangster; mafia would have suited him best but whatever. He was mostly involved in gambling and drug trafficking. He was known to be cold and ruthless. He had gained himself the name, ‘Iceman’, as he would show no emotion while torturing people who wronged him. I couldn’t believe they wanted me to lie to this man.

Janet furrowed her brow in curiosity as she heard the name of the Irish Mafia, Nicholas Cahill, another notorious gangster and mafia figure linked to the diamond business, who had instilled fear in people across the United States. “Rohman Mehra? That Indian sharpshooter? Looks like you’re really impressed with him, but we’re not too fond of Indians.” Nicholas chuckled on the other end. “It’s not easy to join the Scorpions, Sebastian. He’s just a sharpshooter; mafia runs in our veins, making us royalty!”

Jack interrupted. “Yes,” Rodrigo replied, “that same guy who’s caught last year in New York. He was a small-time drug dealer back then, but he expanded his business to gun smuggling in and out of the states. He’s been hiding since he got busted, Jack. How the hell did you get involved with these people?”

she scolded. “I'm sorry, Bianca,” I paced back and forth in my bedroom, worry gnawing my mind. I defended, “But you know I wouldn't have reached out to you if I didn't have a big problem.” She sighed, “So what's this problem about?” “I want to know about a gang that has a star tattooed on their neck,” I described some no further details to her and asked, “Who are they?” Bianca sucked her teeth thrice, “Bad news. They are from the White Star gang, the fourth largest gang in the country. Their leader, Duncan was just released from prison a few months ago after he raped his wife's mother.”

The greedy rat tries to swallow for more than he can chew. "Now I think you're joking with us, Mr. Paul. We offered you a good deal and don't try to fool us that your job will be at risk. You have done many terrible things than this, I may add the fake encounter of 2010 if you remember that innocent truck driver whom you caught under the political pressure for the rape of a famous public figure while the real culprit was Benjamin Mackenzie, the first in command of the Red Skull gang." My tongue feels acidic when I remind him about his aid to Benjamin fucking Mackenzie.