The Russian stopped where he was, ripped open his long fur coat and withdrew Iren from her hand crafted holster fastened into the lining of the fleece. Within full view of the public, he lined up his shot and let Iren sing her song of death. The scream of the shotgun blast banged off the hard tile walls echoing throughout the complex like thunder. Crow caught some of the buckshot in his back bringing him down to his knees. Two others felt the heat of the blast and fell nearby the fallen assassin. Ivan moved in on his prey but the wounded animal turned over in his place and fired up at the big man hitting him in his left lower belly. Ivan just smiled, although he was hit much of the impact was absorbed by the thickness of his coat. He took aim again as Crow closed his eyes and waited for the end.
The thundering discharge split through the open hallows of the platform once again, however the hit man didn't feel any anguish that he thought he would suffer. Opening his eyes, he saw the big Russian pointing his hand held cannon upon transit police who had their weapons drawn. He fired again, blowing one man completely off his feet as blood spatter went everywhere. Clutching his back Tom Crow pulled himself to his feet and as his adversary engaged in open combat with police, the older man dragged himself to safer ground.
The enormous man took two shots to his left shoulder rendering his arm all but useless. Unable to line up his barrel accurately with two hands he fired the powerful weapon one handed like a pistol in a mad barrage of hot projectiles. Despite his handicap, he took down five law enforcement agents before spitting open the shotgun and slipping 12 fresh shells into place.
Crow found himself a little corner to hide and regroup in. He felt the blood from his back dampening his hand as he reached around to assess his wound. His brief inspection upon himself would concur that he was struck by one maybe two pellets from the shotgun. Flipping open his revolver's rotating barrel, he confirmed his remaining ammo. Closing the barrel, he slipped the gun into his jacket and laid back resting his head on the wall. For the moment, he was safe as he could hear the commotion made by his and the Russian's firefight. He knew the big man was now compromised, an open target to be brought down if not by the cops but one of his own rivals.