Makarov Quote Novels & Stories

she said. The sarcasm was very evident in her voice. "You are all cowards. If not, you wouldn't have had us held at gunpoint. You are no match for us," Marcelo said. One common rule among mafias is to never show your weakness, even in the face of death. Aurelio stepped forward. "You are right," he stretched his hand above the ship, and let the gun fall off his hand into the water. "Ending you with a gun is an easy death," he said.

The learning curve there is more mental than physical. And still Alden backed down. Ms. Beast preens inside me, and it's hard not to give her the strut walk she's aiming for. Another time. I turn back to the weapons and pull Bertha down again and lift her strap over my shoulder. Next, I take two Makarovs off the lower shelf and secure them to my belt. King's been teaching me about Russian weapons which is what Cuba had to offer when the Shadow Warriors arrived. While the AK is a better friend, I've become capable both right and left-handed with the Makarovs.

"That thing is mass destruction itself..." ‎ ‎He spotted a body nearby. One of the his comrades but already dead. A wolfsbane rifle lay beside him."Nice" He said, reaching out for it. ‎ ‎"No..." I gasped, but he didn't hear me. ‎ ‎Marcus picked up the gun with a smirk ‎"That wolf has lost it," he said under his breath. "No wolf I've seen so far does that much damage... Not even the ones on our kill list." ‎

I could hear Volkov yelling and swearing angrily and I almost burst out laughing. “No!” his men replied in unison and I rolled my eyes. “Get them! I don’t give a fuck what you have to do. Those fucker dies. You can kill every fucking one of them.” Volkov yelled in English mixed with Russian. We moved behind a large pile of cement bags. Thank goodness the rooms were pretty much done. The walls gave us more cover as we moved about. I glanced over at Marcelo as he grabbed a long metal off the floor, flexing his shoulders to see if he could make use of the weapon with his bad shoulder that must still hurt as bitch.

Everyone who heard him could only shake their heads imperceptibly to honor the loyal soul of the man. Nobody believed that the headstrong man said those words out of his own volition. “Do that and the first one whom i will kill will be your President. I would think that that would be the shortest war in the history of your worlds so far, don’t you think Mr. Paris?” Maru humored. “Next?” and he said again after a stillness of five breaths.

Makoto’s tone was cold and distant. He caressed the longsword in front of him with his right hand. “This time, no matter how powerful the people standing behind him may be—no matter who he is and what he’s capable of, we’ll make sure that he gives us a fair statement! Harvey must die! The Takei family and the Shinkage Way will not let a hero spill his blood in vain!” Naturally, in Makoto’s eyes, Naoto was a hero.

Quin responded, raising yet another eyebrow. "The football captain who believes that every attractive girl came to watch him," Mara added. "I do not believe so," he retorted. He looked directly into Quin’s eyes. "I know that at least this one did." Quin could not help herself but laugh. "A rather bold statement." "I make bold statements." "And are they correct, usually?" she asked. "They lead to results." "What results?" "I get a phone number." Mara burst into laughter. "He does not waste time."

Neither of them spoke. Because I wasn't finished. "You know what?" I laughed. A little hysterically. "I genuinely hope every single mafia man wakes up tomorrow with erectile dysfunction!" Silence. "I hope your bloodlines end with you!" Marco made a strange choking sound. "I hope women collectively unionise and leave all of you to die alone!" Marco looked like he was trying very hard not to laugh. “Does the word unionise exist?” I pointed at him. "You too, Apple Boy!" "...Apple Boy?"

“You think that stops him?” “I think it makes him aim at me,” I said. That was not a prideful sentence. It was an admission of exactly how much I thought I was worth. Marco’s fingers touched the gun handle like a lover, not a threat. “Very well,” he said. “We will play theater.”

Luciano’s jaw clenched, the muscles ticking. “You know one bullet from me ends you right now, Marco. Don't test me.” “And what then?” Marco taunted, a venomous smirk spreading across his face as his men shifted their weight, ready to pull their triggers. “My men will turn you and your boy into Swiss cheese before your shell casing even hits the floor.”