Rocket Chino's Rocket!
……………
After stepping out of the office and walking about ten paces, we entered an empty hallway. Catalina came to a sudden halt. She glanced around front and back, then burst into uncontrollable laughter.
"Puhahaha! Oh man, I'm losing it for real!"
Unable to hold it in, she slammed her palm hard against my back. It hurt.
"Hey! You weren't actually working with those 'comrades' of yours, right?"
"Of course not."
"Then what about that photo?"
"AI-generated. One of my YouTube subscribers made it as a joke. Never dreamed I'd actually use it like this."
Catalina wiped at her eyes. Actual tears were welling up.
"Ha, you're totally insane. How'd you even think of that? Lying to La Luna Negra's boss like that."
"I just... couldn't stand seeing them look down on you. Wanted to save your face too, Kata."
"My face?"
"You introduced me as your partner. If they diss my partner, it's like they're dissing you."
She fell silent for a moment. Then she started giggling again.
"Ha, do you even know who that boss is?"
All I knew was the name Black Moon and the face of that fat boss. Sure, it was a cartel, so dangerous organization and all. But I had no clue just how vicious they were.
"Is that boss really that scary?"
"You think some normal, harmless guy runs a cartel? El Gordito. That fat slob hates people who lie to him. He makes examples of them—punishes them brutally."
A bad feeling crept over me.
"...How?"
"Depends on the lie, but... usually starts by cutting off the thumb on their dominant hand. If he's really pissed, goes for the wrist next. Never both hands, though. Instead, he takes the ears and nose. Then the balls."
"Why not both hands?"
"Says he's leaving them a way to eat and survive. Oh, but he's merciful with women. Doesn't chop off limbs—just sells them to a brothel. Fat chance of ever getting out, though."
"………."
"And you showed that fake photo to him and bullshitted your way through. If he finds out, it'll be a sight to see."
Cold sweat trickled down my spine.
"What's done is done."
Catalina clapped my shoulder.
"Gotta give you props for the balls, though. Lying to El Gordito's face like that."
Would you have lied if you knew? I only did it 'cause I didn't.
Shouldn't have tried to act tough. Could've just mocked his plumber mustache and called it a day.
……………
"Anyway, you hungry? Lunch can be that stew you made—"
BOOM!!
A deafening roar tore through the air, and the warehouse's first-floor steel door buckled inward. No, not buckled—it ripped clean off the hinges, scraping across the concrete floor. A military truck barreled through the wreckage. Reinforced bumper, steel mesh over the windows. Straight out of some Mad Max flick.
"What the fuck?!"
Before the truck even stopped, three armored SUVs screeched in behind it. Tires screamed, leaving black streaks. Doors flew open, and heavily armed thugs poured out. Bulletproof vests, helmets, assault rifles. This wasn't a gang anymore—it was a goddamn army.
"Los Ermanos," Catalina muttered.
"Guess they lost their shit over the stolen goods."
Los Ermanos. The group that chased Catalina and threatened me. Of course, she'd wiped them all out.
"W-wait, this is because of us? Los Ermanos raiding all the way here."
"What good does saying that now? Let's go! No point getting dragged into a fight with no payoff."
Catalina grabbed my arm and yanked. As we sprinted toward a corner of the warehouse, another explosion rocked the place. Grenade, maybe? Who knows.
"¡Encuentren la mercancía! ¡Y maten a todos esos hijos de puta de La Luna Negra!"
Find the goods! And kill every last one of those La Luna Negra motherfuckers!
Crazy. The goods—don't tell me it's that bag from earlier?
The duffel I'd carried, stuffed with 15 kilos of vacuum-sealed white bricks.
Bang! Rat-tat-tat! Rattle-rattle-rat-tat!
In seconds, the warehouse turned into a warzone. Bullets shredded walls, concrete shards flying everywhere. Catalina yanked my arm again, pulling me behind a stack of pallets just as rounds turned the spot we'd been standing into Swiss cheese.
"Ha, these bastards starting a full-on war in broad daylight. Didn't know they had the guts."
This is a real war.
Like something out of Call of Duty. Gunpowder stung my nose, gunfire deafening my ears. A scream cut through—couldn't tell if it was La Luna Negra or Los Ermanos. Maybe both.
Catalina drew her pistol.
"We gotta get out of this warehouse. We'll both die if we stay."
"No."
She froze at my words.
"What?"
"If we run now... we're dead anyway. You think Los Ermanos will let anyone who helped La Luna Negra walk if they win?"
Rat-tat-tat-tat! Machine-gun fire echoed, followed by another scream.
"What bullshit is that? We might die right now, and you're worrying about tomorrow?"
She had a point. Bullets could punch through our skulls any second—running seemed safer. But you can't live without thinking ahead. I could escape Santa Esperanza with just the guide's contact. But Catalina?
"We did the transport job. La Luna Negra knows us! If they go down and spill our names, what's next? Us."
Her face hardened. She knew better than me how relentless and cruel cartel revenge could be. Especially over 15 kilos of white powder? Even I could imagine it. No quick death—that was for damn sure.
I peeked through the pallet gap. La Luna Negra guys were fighting desperately from cover, but getting overwhelmed. Biggest issue: that monster truck dominating the entrance. Every burst from its mounted machine gun pulverized concrete walls and turned men to rags.
As long as that's there, La Luna Negra loses.
Then something caught my eye at the edge of my vision. A corpse. Upper body shredded by machine-gun fire, barely recognizable. But what mattered was in its hand—gripping something tight.
A long cylindrical body, triangular warhead, wooden grip. The world's most famous anti-tank rocket launcher. Allah's magic wand. RPG-7.
If I get that...
But the body was right in the machine gun's line of fire. A straight sprint? I'd be honeycomb in under a second.
"Kata."
"What?"
"See that RPG-7 over there?"
She leaned out to check where I pointed.
"Yeah, so?"
"Blast the truck with it. That'll turn the tide."
"You're nuts? How do we even get there? Machine gun'll shred us."
"You draw their fire. I'll grab the rocket and fire it."
She stared at me after I laid out the plan. Amid the gunfire and screams, a few seconds of silence passed.
"That's... a batshit crazy idea."
Catalina checked her pistol's mag.
"Let's do it."
……………
Catalina gripped a pistol in each hand, spare mags within easy reach.
"Ready?"
"Hell no. But we gotta."
She took deep breaths. One, two. On the third...
"Go!"
She leaped from the pallets, sprinting like mad while alternating fire from both guns.
Bang! Bang! Rat-tat!
The machine gun reacted instantly, swiveling toward her.
Thud-thud-thud-thud! Rounds hammered the concrete along her path.
But Catalina zigzagged like a pro, vaulting between cover.
Now!
I crawled out the opposite side, belly to the floor. Elbows and knees—basic army low crawl. Nothing fancy.
5 meters. Catalina's gunfire kept going. A scream—she'd nailed someone mid-sprint. Insane marksmanship.
3 meters. A bullet grazed the floor beside me. Grenade fragment? Felt like three years shaved off my life.
1 meter. Reached out and snatched Allah's magic wand. The corpse's fingers clenched the trigger—I had to pry them loose. Dead flesh creeped me out.
How do you use this thing?
Ma Hyuksu had never fired one. But my past life self? Korean army anti-tank rockets. Principles should be similar.
Shoulder-mounted. Heavier than expected. Flicked what looked like the safety, peered through the sight.
Truck in view. Machine gun still tracking Catalina.
"Hurry the fuck up!" Her voice, desperate.
Held my breath. Pulled the trigger.
WHOOSH!
The rocket streaked out in a blaze, white smoke trailing. Recoil nearly knocked me flat.
Time slowed. Straight line to the truck.
KABOOM—!!
The truck exploded—or rather, disintegrated. Black smoke billowed from the machine gun mount.
The warehouse went quiet. For a brief moment.
Then cheers erupted from La Luna Negra.
"¡Ahora! ¡Ataquen!"
Now! Attack!
Gunfire resumed. But different this time. La Luna Negra was counterattacking. The tide had turned.