They got there and the first thing that hit was the smell.
Not the visual. The smell came first.
Blood and underneath it something fouler, the kind that came from a body losing control of itself in its last moments.
Liam had smelled it enough times to know exactly what it meant before he saw anything.
Then he saw it, and that was worse.
Two of his guys were on the ground.
Both face up, both with gunshot wounds to the chest, the grouping tight and deliberate.
It was kind of placement that didn't happen by accident. One still had his eyes open, jaw slack, looking at nothing.
While the other had his hand stretched out beside him like he'd grabbed for something in the last second and come up empty.
The blood around both of them had spread outward and gone still in the concrete, dark and cold.
Liam stood over the first one and looked at him properly.
