The small, abandoned warehouse where Phil, Dennis, and Donnie usually met was surprisingly lively at the moment.
Inside the warehouse, two burly men were talking with Vincent Murphy. Next to the three men, a pregnant woman was tied to a chair, unable to move.
"Mr. Murphy, we have an agreement. Whether this job succeeds or fails, Mr. Ricci's favor is considered repaid."
"Of course! Though I don't believe we'll fail, even if that kid brought backup!"
Truthfully, the two burly men agreed. After all, they had brought submachine guns. But in their line of work, the ugly terms had to be stated upfront.
"It's about time. Why isn't he here yet?"
Right as one of the men spoke, the sound of a car engine echoed from outside the warehouse.
"He's here! You two, hide!"
The two men immediately scattered. One hid behind a stack of crates in the corner, while the other slid underneath an abandoned car.
Soon after, someone yanked open the warehouse doors. It was a furious Donnie.
"Vincent Murphy, I'm here!"
Vincent stood openly behind Maggie Pistone, staring darkly at Donnie.
"Joe Pistone, why are you alone? Where's your Asian friend?"
Donnie held his ground, showing zero intention of selling Lawson out.
"He left. He didn't come."
"Oh? He just left you and walked away?"
Vincent didn't buy that for a second, so he placed his hand heavily on Maggie's shoulder.
"Joe Pistone, stop playing games and tell him to come out. Otherwise, your wife is going to suffer!"
"You bastard! If you have a problem, take it out on me! Don't hurt Maggie!"
"You think I won't?"
Saying that, Vincent drew his gun and shot Donnie in the thigh. Donnie instantly collapsed to his knees, unable to stand.
Seeing this, Maggie began struggling violently against her restraints.
"Don't move, Mrs. Pistone. I really don't want to hurt a pregnant woman, assuming you cooperate!"
Feeling the cold steel of the barrel against the back of her head, Maggie froze immediately.
"Joe Pistone, I'm giving you one last chance. Tell the Asian guy to come out!"
Donnie struggled to get up, but unless you have plot armor, how many people can actually stand after taking a bullet to the thigh?
Donnie tried several times but failed.
"Vincent, I told you! He didn't come!"
"Do you think I'm an idiot?"
Just as Vincent was about to shoot again, another car was heard pulling up outside. He immediately shot a glance at his two hidden gunmen.
The look meant Vincent wanted them alive. Dead men wouldn't help him score a promotion back at the precinct.
But the person who walked in was entirely unexpected.
"Brian O'Conner? What are you doing here?"
It was indeed the other undercover cop who had leaked Donnie's location to Vincent.
"Vincent, what are you doing? When I got the call saying you kidnapped Donnie's wife, I didn't believe it. I didn't think you'd actually do something like this!"
Brian O'Conner held his gun aimed squarely at Vincent. Seeing Maggie Pistone tied to the chair, he completely believed what the caller had told him.
Unlike Donnie, Brian was a relatively new undercover cop. His righteous fire hadn't burned out yet, and he absolutely couldn't accept what Vincent was doing.
Vincent's expression turned incredibly dark. Brian O'Conner's appearance meant his actions tonight could permanently end his police career.
No cop uses kidnapping a pregnant woman as an investigative tactic. If this got out, getting fired would be the least of Vincent's worries. He'd highly likely be going to prison to pick up soap.
"Vincent, let Maggie go right now, and I'll pretend this never happened!"
Brian was still trying to talk Vincent down, entirely unaware that his very presence had eliminated any other options for Vincent.
So, Vincent simply clapped his hands twice, signaling the two hidden gunmen to step out.
Faced with two submachine guns, Brian froze.
"You didn't think I was alone, did you? Drop the gun!"
Brian had nothing to say. With two SMGs pointed at him, there was no way he could fight back. He slowly raised his hands and set his pistol on the ground.
The moment Brian was disarmed, Vincent exploded. He marched over to Brian, punched him to the ground, and viciously kicked him in the stomach.
"You damn undercover cops! Why can't you just follow orders! Why! Why! Why!"
Vincent's screaming sounded like questions, but it was purely him venting his rage.
It was obvious that now that Brian knew what he was doing, Vincent had to silence him. Otherwise, he was going to prison.
But killing an undercover cop carried massive risks. Nobody knew if Brian had left a trail or told anyone else.
If the truth came out, Vincent was still going to prison to pick up soap.
After venting his anger, Vincent aimed his gun at Brian's head.
"Donnie, you're big on loyalty, right? Fine. I won't use Maggie against you. I'll use your colleague! Make your choice!"
Donnie's eyes widened. He was actually incredibly moved that Brian had come to save him.
But choosing between his pregnant wife and the colleague who came to his rescue... it was an impossible scale for Donnie to balance.
"I... I..."
"Donnie, forget about me! This is all my fault. Save your wife!"
Brian's face showed pure contrition. He genuinely believed his actions had caused this entire nightmare.
If Brian had kept his mouth shut, Donnie and his wife would likely be safely out of Los Angeles by now.
"What a touching scene! Brian, don't blame me for this!"
Vincent had already decided to cross the point of no return. Regardless of what Donnie chose, Brian was going to die.
Brian closed his eyes. Coming here meant he was already prepared for the worst.
Just as Vincent was about to pull the trigger, rapid gunfire erupted from the ceiling.
The dilapidated warehouse had two skylights. One of them happened to be directly above Maggie. When the glass shattered, the shards rained down on her head.
But Maggie wasn't the unluckiest one. The burly man standing not far from her took the worst of it. He was instantly shredded by a storm of bullets, his body riddled with over a dozen holes before he even hit the ground. Dead.
The second burly man reacted quickly, diving behind cover to return fire.
But seconds later, the relentless hail of bullets pinned him down, preventing him from even raising his head.
This man was an experienced shooter. He instantly recognized the weapon firing at him.
"Fuck! That's a Glock 18!"
But knowing the problem is one thing; solving it is another entirely.