Guns Of Navarone Book Review 소설 & 이야기

“The great Romano, outsmarted by little ol’ me!” Romano’s face darkened, his jaw clenching as he inspected the gun, realization dawning too late. “You switched my weapon,” he growled, his voice a low rumble of fury. Victor straightened, his grin feral as he took a step forward, pulling his own gun from behind his back. The barrel gleamed under the dim light, steady and menacing in his grip. “Did you really think I’d walk into your trap without setting one of my own?” he asked, his tone laced with venom. “You underestimated me, Romano. That was your first mistake.”

Antonio narrowed his eyes, raising his gun and shooting at an enemy sniper perched atop a crane. "Hold your ground! We have to get out of here!" But Antonio’s men were dropping one by one. From a distance, a silver-haired man stood on the balcony of the main warehouse, watching the battle unfold below him with a satisfied smile. Leonardo Franches. With his arms crossed over his chest, he observed as Antonio and his men struggled, their forces dwindling fast. Beside him, a Nuovo Ordine elite agent reported, "Their forces have lost more than half. We can finish them now."

I countered, emptying the barrel of my gun and checking it once over before returning it to its rightful place in my bag. Wielding a gun was still new to me. I was still unsure where I should be keeping it. My back pocket? Side coat pocket? Vinnie had a holster, but that was far from lady-like for me to be carrying. “I think we should have Castellano’s soldiers do it.” Vinnie suggested carefully as he leaned against the door frame. His protective tone didn’t go unnoticed, though. I knew he had previously engaged in a heated conversation with Giovanni last week. He was yet to tell me what their discussion was about, but judging from the expression on Giovanni’s face when he left for his cell,

Serena's pov Nevan Cross stood between us and the cars. His gun was steady. Blood dripped from a cut on his forehead but his smile was worse. "You cut the lights." Nathan didn't lower his weapon. "I did. Vincent's an idiot. Always has been." Nevan moved closer. "But he's useful. He's drawing all the attention while I talk to you." "Talk fast. His men will be out here any second." I aimed at his chest.

a voice shouted, and bullets erupted, muzzle flashes lighting the night. I dove behind a crate, my men returning fire, Vinny’s rifle barking, Carlo’s shots precise, bodies dropping as Salazar’s men screamed, blood spraying the pier. I moved, my Glock blazing, taking out a man with a headshot, his body crumpling, another with a chest wound, his gasp wet as he fell. The dock was chaos, gunfire deafening, my men cutting through, their training unmatched.

It clattered across the floor. Marcus dove for it. Margaux stepped back smoothly, completely unpanicked. The gun skidded across the marble— Vivienne grabbed it first. Her hands trembled as she raised it. Straight at Margaux. The room froze. Marcus stared. “Well,” he said slowly. “That’s new.” Vivienne’s chest rose and fell rapidly. The gun felt impossibly heavy in her hands. But she didn’t lower it. Margaux studied her. For a moment, something almost like pride flickered in her eyes.

I said. They both ignored my complaint and kept munching on their food. I went to the shelve and brought out a bowl and a cereal box. They were arguing about guns again. They argued about this same topic at least once a week. “I’m telling you Gio,” Declan said. “Snipers have the cleanest and easiest shots. It’s one gun I’m obsessed with” “I prefer a handgun though” Giovanni replied. Declan let his spoon slip from his hand dramatically. I poured the cereal into my bowl and went to the fridge for milk.

Just the low hum of the road and the building rage in my chest. My fingers tapped against my thigh in a steady rhythm, matching the heartbeat of violence waiting to erupt. He wanted a war, he’d get one. And this time, I wouldn’t hesitate to spill blood—even if it was my father’s. . . . "We're here, Mr. Cavarallo," My right-hand man said as we reached the shipment,s, and I got down from the car to where that bastard was. "Aha, Nestore..." "It's Nevio," I corrected, firing a shot at one of his men who stood behind him.

DAMIAN We raise our heads and are appalled at the sight of Bonanno whose head lolls back with the bullet carving a hole in his throat. Blood pumps out steadily from the gape. Karmen stifles a cry, staring at the corpse that used to be her father but she knows better than to make a sound. Her eyes jump to mine with tears shining through. “We are under an attack,” Sergei whispers, drawing out a gun from nowhere. That’s why I say made men don’t make the mistake of submitting all their weapons, whether in public or privately. Each of us have our hands on a weapon, including Karmen who digs her hands between her thighs and draws out a small gun.

No one dared to stay around any longer. In Norvania, only powerful people were allowed to carry guns legally. These weren't the people they would want to cross. Suzanne sighed in relief when she saw Nathan pull out a gun. So, that was why he was so calm. He had a gun on him. Jim smiled obsequiously and said, "Sir, I was being presumptuous. You … may leave. I … I don't want the money anymore." Suddenly, a commotion could be heard outside.