Gallagher and Max were now rolling around on the concrete slab, punching and kicking each other, each man taking out seven years of frustration on the other.
I popped a guy that was about to shoot Aristotle and he nodded his appreciation before getting back to the fighting.
I slipped around to where two of Gallagher's goons were hiding behind some crates and shot one of them. The other quickly returned fire and I had to take cover. He retreated to a car, rolling behind it.
I looked back to where Max and Gallagher were fighting.
Gallagher pull a gun...