The girls all know the score. No escape. No surrender. No mercy. We got to kill every last rat bastard one of them, every last one. Not for revenge. Not because they deserve it. not because it'll make the world a better place. We need a heap of bloody bodies so when the mob boss, Wallenquist, looks over his charts of profits and losses, he'll see what it cost him to mess with the girls of Old Town. The valkyrie at my side is shouting and laughing with the pure, hateful, bloodthirsty joy of the slaughter. And so am I. The fire, baby. It'll burn us both. There's no place in this world for our kind of fire. My warrior woman. My valkyrie. You'll always be mine. Always. And never.