PROLOGUE: FIGHT OR FLIGHT
“Surrender now, Right Hand! We’ll make it short and sweet if you do that!”
“Holy crap, Ogre, you really going to do this now? Yap yap yap instead of just shooting at me? Are we in a fucking B action movie or what?”
“We mean it, A-Bomb, stop joking around! Better that you just give up the fight and spare yourself the torture once we gun you down!”
“Bro! That’s a classic bad-guy move, ok? Once you start monologuing, it’s over! You’re gonna lose for sure!”
“Damn it, A! It’s fight or flight! What do you really want to do? But whatever you choose, be prepared for the consequences!”
“Whatever I choose, I’m never going back! NEVER, you hear me Hiro!”
“So be it…”
The muscular man in the leather jacket, black jeans, and ankle-high leather boots kept his Ruger American pistols near his chest as a continuous barrage of gunfire razed the wall where he was hiding. He knew that the cemented outdoor partition of the mall parking space where his former colleagues and underlings had forced him to hide was quite adequate to keep him safe for a while.
A while meant fifteen minutes of continuous fire from semi-automatic handguns and artillery rounds from heavy assault rifles. He’s lucky they didn’t bring a bazooka.
“Or did they?” he mumbled to himself. “If I knew my boss, he’d probably insist on The Left Hand to bring one.”
A split-second silence gave him the boost to sprint from his hiding place, shooting as he ran to another wall to hide behind again. He counted at least three people that he was sure he hit fatally and around five that he had managed to injure with his continuous gunshots.
“Hooray for enhanced hearing! The sound of my bullets hitting body parts and those cries of pain and surprise are enough for me to know where I got them and who I just hit. Sorry, guys, but it’s my life on the line here and I always put myself first in these situations. Now, where the heck is that car…” he whispered to himself as the poor wall he was hiding started to look like a sponge due to the new hail of bullets hitting it non-stop.
From his vantage point, he was finally able to spot the black and elegant Mercedes Benz, which was the car his boss had gifted him two months before. Of course, at that time he was still the beloved Right-Hand man of their district’s governor.
He’s the only one the governor could trust to kill targets and make it look like an accident, while still managing to lead his boss’ private army with The Left Hand.
Now that he’s planning to “resign” he knew it wasn’t going to be easy. Tonight’s little “incident” as he was going home after a short visit to the grocery store showed him how his boss would rather have him “retired” than quit his position.
The only solution to this “problem” was for him to fight his way out. Hence, this evening’s gun fight…
He overheard The Left Hand giving orders to the other fighters with him: “Our inside guy just gave the warning. The cops will be here in five minutes. We need to end this now!”
“Yep, we definitely should,” said The Right Hand to himself. “Do it, Hero! Just fucking do it!”
As if on cue, a hand grenade suddenly flew in from the other side of the wall. Swiftly, he spun with one leg extended while aiming a roundhouse kick at the flying object. It bounced off his boot perfectly and shot back into the darkness, where he hoped most of his attackers were.
Bingo, the loud explosion proved his hopes to be true!
The feared expert assassin took this chance to run towards his car at almost superhuman speed. He quickly got in the driver’s seat, tossed his guns on the passenger’s side, and slammed the door. Just in time too, hiding behind the car’s bulletproof body as relentless and powerful rifle shots peppered the different parts of his vehicle.
“It’s now or never!” The Right Hand yelled as he pulled down his car brakes, pressed on the clutch button and placed his thumb on the fingerprint panel to start his car.
It took only three seconds to complete that.
While it took less than two seconds for the car to start.
And it took only one for the trigger to sound under the vehicle… Then a large explosion blew up The Right Hand’s ride!
KABOOM!Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.
The mobsters who were after the A-bomb had no time to celebrate though…
“Boss, the cops!” screamed one of the minions, pointing at the approaching vehicles.
“Get to the cars! Go go go!”
After less than ten minutes, and an extreme, intense car chase and fierce gunfight later, the three bulletproof Ford Explorer vans were all intact, and were on their way back to the secret hideaway for them to get cleaned, repaired, and given new license plates. Within twenty-four hours they would be ready to be driven by the governor’s henchmen once again.
Speaking of henchmen, The Left Hand took out his mobile as he walked out of the hideaway and left behind his team who were still being fixed by their private medics. He looked at the screen and scowled, then huffed disappointingly.
“Really, he can’t even wait for me to get back to his house to make a face-to-face report,” grunted the private army’s official second-in-command since their “employer” obviously wanted to remain the leader but anonymously. “Might as well, then…”
The broad-shouldered and muscled man, who slightly resembled a more Asian version of Henry Cavill during his Superman days, pushed the green icon at the bottom of his mobile’s screen, along with the speakerphone button, before speaking. “Yes, boss?”
“I was waiting for your report. What’s taking you so long?”
“We had to leave the ‘venue’, Sir. The cops arrived a little too early.”
“What? What happened to our snitch? He was supposed to make sure that they didn’t arrive too soon.”
“I don’t know. But I’ll be dealing with him tomorrow.”
“And did you deal with Aaron?”
Again, the squad leader huffed derisively. It’s as if the question was an insult to him. “Of course, Sir. I would not dare go back home to you if I didn’t finish my task tonight.”
“I want to see his body…”
A slight pause… then a sigh…
“Sir, his car exploded while he was inside. I rigged that bomb myself so I’m sure he’s dead.”
“Not even a video? Or maybe even a photograph? You seem to be lapsing, my dear Left Hand. This is not like you… at all.”
“The cops arrived too early, like I said. You’ll see it in the news for sure. I’m sure the media can give you photos and videos, Sir.”
“Hero, please… you know who we are dealing with, right? This is the man who can easily make his targets look like they died due to an accident or by natural means. On that note, I believe he is quite capable of faking his own death. So… until I am sure that whatever body the media releases is truly Aaron’s then I will insist that you don’t assure me that he is indeed dead. Am. I. Clear?”
The Left Hand inhaled deeply just to keep himself calm before speaking, “Yes, Sir. I’ll get on it as soon as I can.”
“Good. Now you can go back to my mansion and rest. You have a lot to do in the morning.”
Hero’s jaw tightened as he tried to control his thoughts and his tone. “Yes, Sir.”