The wind flips jackets inside out as the stand off runs on. Maliki stands in the middle of his man, everyone has their guns drawn. A long sigh cuts through the silence and Maliki steps forward. Must we really do this now gentlemen? Are you just so frivolously aware you’ll lose if you come at us when we’re at our best? You must not be the type for a fair fight. He adjusts his sleeves, rolling them up revealing a bloody set of brass knuckles.
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