Carlos took the pistol and shotgun, shoving the pistol in his orange jumpsuit with the safety on. Definitely the safety, he didn't relish the idea of losing his "homeys" to an accidental discharge. The shotgun was a little unfamiliar to him. You didn't use the big guns very often to shake down someone when they missed a payment. Most of the time you just used a baseball bat and carried the pistol for backup.

Grabbing hold of a few tear gas grenades he shoved them into the hastily emptied gym bag. They'd come in handy for covering their escape and if necessary function like a weak smoke grenade.

"I..." Carlos said, swallowing, "I think so."

Raising his shotgun he pointed it at the closed door and steeled himself. He wasn't going to fail now.