La Grandia Part 5
Matthew Ryan Fischer
Not waiting for orders, 66 pulled his gun and ran from the conference
room. He didn’t need to turn, but he knew the footsteps right behind him were 47.
The other Agents would protect the bosses. Von’s men were barely serviceable and
there was no telling what drugs they might be using today. 47 was a man of
action, a trusted brother in arms. It was him and he would know what to do, 66
didn’t have time to waste giving orders.
Traditionally 66 would have worked for one person with one objective
in mind, but he had signed up with 47 and Von and ended up stuck in middle
management in a mafioso style family with no clear goal or role. He had been a
hitman, a tracker, a drug dealer and a bodyguard. But Von and Gideon were both
protected and 66 felt the itch of the hunter coming back to the forefront. 66
could almost taste the blood in his mouth. It was a feeling he hadn’t had in
months, perhaps years. Gone were his family. Gone was Fara. Gone were the days of
wanting to be a better man. He had been chained up too long, ready to explode. The
gunmen in the building had no idea what was coming for them, god help them all.
“Entrances or Exits?” asked 47.
“Lobby. Let’s see if they thought this through at all.”
They reached the second story balcony that overlooked the lobby.
The lobby was empty and the employees were either dead or hiding.
“So much for replacing hotel employees with company men.”
“Look…”
66 followed 47’s gaze. Through the wall of glass, they could see
the semi-circle drive that led to the hotel. There were several vans and SUV’s,
emptied out except for the drivers. There was one guard with an automatic rifle
at the front doors of the hotel. Without
giving it a second thought, 66 fired, killing the guard.
Several of the drivers reacted.
“These are amateurs. They don’t leave a secure way out.”
“What about the drivers?”
“Why bother? Let them run.”
“Maybe there’s another team in the parking garage or back alley?”
“Maybe. You want to clean them out or do you want to face the actual
threat?”
“We could leave right now. No reason to risk our lives.”
“With the job undone? A contract is a contract.”
Both men smiled at that. Client and customer broke contracts all the
time. There was nothing more important than survival.
“No,” answered 66, “You go if you want. I feel like seeing his
through just a bit more.”
“Fine, but let’s make it quick.”
66 and 47 headed in the direction of the gunfire. There were now
several distinctly different sounds. The surprise attack was over and the
invaders likely met their first resistance, thought 66.
“We’re probably approaching them from behind. Maybe we can trap
them in a crossfire.”
“If we’re lucky.”
As they left the lobby and followed the halls back, the bodies began
to appear, the dead and wounded, members of the hotel, the families and the invading
strike team. Doors were kicked in and rooms sprayed with bullets, the computer
lab, the exercise facilities and several restaurants. The strike team was
killing everyone, with no regard for who was working for who or who was an
actual threat. Everyone had to die.
When they came across a small group of men, 66 charged in
headlong. He could have shot them from behind, but he wanted to use his fists,
to feel the contact and pain inflicted and the pain received. He was hungry for
physical battle.
66 had just punched a man in the face when he heard Seven
screaming from behind, “what the hell are you doing?”
66 didn’t have time to think as Seven pulled him off the man he
was attacking.
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