Old Jack took a sip from the glass, frowned, and spat out, "Buddy, this is some terrible booze! WTF, what's this taste? It's like horse piss! Are you sure this is meant for human consumption?"
He slammed the glass down, clearly dissatisfied.
There was a twitch at the corner of Bolo's mouth, and his hand holding the glass stiffened.
A henchman nearby couldn't take it and cursed in Spanish, reaching for the pistol at his waist.
Old Jack grinned, unbuttoned his collar to reveal a loop of clay explosives wrapped around his chest, and placed his hand inside his bag to pull out a Remington shotgun and a detonator.
With a couple of clicks, bullets were chambered. His eyes turned cold, "What do you think you're doing?"
Everyone present was shocked.
Holy shit! This guy!
Who wraps themselves in clay explosives when they go out?
A human bomb? You might as well put a white cloth around your head.
No wonder these three are so bold!
