"Need a hand?" Vel asks with a faint smile. Her leather clad right hand unholsters a H&K .40 with a silencer and rail light on while extending her left to me.
"I'm good .... Let's get the fuck out of here."
I force my leg to stand and take a step towards the fire exit at the west of the courtyard. Concrete walls around us echos more shouting of foreign language and a hoarse scream erupts from the fifth-floor window with a red climbing rope attached followed by high-pitched gibberish.
I limp forward as fast as possible but every stretch of muscle inserts a new pain into my joints and both knees. Then, at the edge of my sight, I saw a group on the second floor running past the window. One of them takes a glance at the courtyard. All of a sudden, the pain is indifferent.
"Second floor. East!"
I shut and picked up the pace. Vel closed her left eye, her right arm stretched into a line and rapid fire towards the said position.
A veil of smoke erupted from the muzzle while the slide racks back and forth in a blur of motion. She wasn't aiming at the targets inside but the trail of glass windows to create as much disruption while rushing towards the west part of the compound for cover.
The cleaner put her left hand on my shoulder as her sight fixated on the entrance to the west corridor. While giving me cover, I found the last stretch of the planned route.
Pytor wasn't bullshitting me with the floor plan he draw. At the end of the hallway by the stairs is a sturdy metal door gathering dust, gradually turing into part of the wall. The lever won't budge unless the fire alarm is issued.
Just so fucking happens, three steps to the left, by the staircase there's a big red button in plastic lid filled with ashes on top. With the sign 'Only to be used in emergency.' on top. Surely we fit the bill.
I pull the lid and press the button. A faint vibration under my thumb rumbles then the building came to life.
An unattended broadcasting system all over the apartment building roars distorted horns with screeching statics intertwined on both notes. And the fire door next to me is unlocked with a flat beep.
She subtly frowns at the shrill screams as she enters the fire escape route while I find appreciation in having tinnitus.
Inside the escape route, a dense scent of mold and uncirculated air slowly poisoned my lungs. Vel opens the flashlight attached to her pistol. Sturdily pointing at the pitch-black corridor up ahead while maintaining the pacing.
The place used to be an apartment building filled with foreign laborer who got a bit more in their pocket to not end up in Parral. But since the southern region was differentiated as designated state houses. Most of them moved out for lower rent and a shorter drive to the city. A couple of months ago, the hobos and the outcasts still lingering around here were either driven out or thrown off the building by the Bulgarians. They occupied the ghost town.
My legs are finally reconnecting to neurons as the numbness wears off, but the bones still hurt like hell. Good thing according to Pytor the fire exits are supposedly led straight to the west fences, where we planned for Vix to ready the car on stand-by.
The concentrated light cut a clear path amidst the damp darkness. Vel's hard booties clack against the ground the sound echoes by the closed walls. While moving forward we can occasionally still hear the horns going off and Bulgarian's shutting commends at each other.
"Vix parked on the other side." She change her empty mag to a new one in her coat pocket as she states in a casual tone. "It's not far but I saw a handful of them smoking nearby."
"Let's Hope they rush to put out the fire." I let out a throaty hum. Vera gives me a glance and smirks, shaking her head.
At the end of the narrow corridor is another fireproof door made of stainless steel, probably the only thing that isn't expired.
The cleaner takes point by the door. Pressing her left hand on the steel lever, the gun in her right hand raised at the door lining. I stand vertically by the door with my back against the wall, right behind Vera.
My hearings are decidedly returning as well for I can note the creak of her leather glove gripping the lever. The adrenal gland pumps a fresh dosage into my vein making my jaded left arm shiver. I look down at the black case with silver-decorated edges in my hand. Thinking how much more should I bargain with Pytor.
It’s not remotely close to the amount of risk of this cursed job.
***
"Ready?" Vel tilts her head back, her brown pupils find mine in the dark.
If memory serves, from the fences to the other side of the road is about 20 maybe 25 meters, for there's a clearing that used to be an attached basketball court between sidewalk and fences.
I stretch my right leg and an immense pain declares its return, bones, knees, ankles all of them. Adrenaline did some part, but I’ll need something stronger.
I bring the only thing those fuckers didn't confiscate while searching and press the strings on top twice, the inhaler consumed the rest of the dosage to create my last puff. Night's menu is opium mixed with some ergogenic aids.
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Throwing my head back as the stimulant kicks the redundant reactions out and off. My hands tremble, my quadriceps tensed up, and my teeth biting down on each other, there’s a rush of heartbeat drumming a escalating chorus in my vain urging me to do something, anything drastic to let it off. I drag my buzzing head upright as Vera watches silently with a sober smile.
"Ready." I put the inhaler back in my inner pocket and carry the attache case under my armpit.
My eyes hurt.
Her shoulder slightly raised before pushing the door open. The illumination amplified the purple and red hues on the edge of my sight. Vera dashes to the left with her .40 aiming at the right, I squeeze through the gap and find myself in the back alley of the compound, in front of the brick fences. The visibility is still in the gutter.
The door closed behind us and locked itself shut, they had disabled the alarms as the sharp horns were gone but the lights weren't back on yet. Inside the pocked apartment building is still pitch black, but without any sign of movements on the west wing fortunately.
I lean the black case against fence with caution and extended my arms to clutch the uneven, moss infested top of fence while my partner kept on watch with her back against the wall.
Strips of hideous gray buildings stood behind the fences across the street like wind eroded peddle stones, blocked or broken windows, exterior stairs, and no sign of the living. Under the starless stygian night, it's almost like the world died .... Until a glint of light came into view at the corner of the street across the clearing.
I squint my eyes at its direction, but the light didn't reappear. What does appear is a flash of headlight from an import brand four seater, looking like it had been parked at the spot under the shade of eight-story state houses for as long as the road was paved.
30 meters, maybe more.
I let go of my hands and landed back on the other side of fence without feeling a hint of pressure or pain in my legs. In fact, two presses might been too much as my muscles are still contracting as if crushing down on my bones between them.
"I saw our ride. Bout 35 meters away, 10 o'clock....."
I turn my head towards where she had her eyes fixated on as soon as I realized something was off.
Following her gaze leads to the window right above us on the fourth floor, the only room on this side of the building lit up by two flickering cigarettes above a set of tactical flashlights resting on the edge of window.
Thin traces of smoke find their way outside when whoever's in there dusts the ash off. From this position, none of us can see each other but the balcony is the perfect vantage point over the entire bloody street. Judging by how the two hands sticking out of the window are positioned with both elbows resting on the frame, it's safe to assume there's at least one set of eyes on the clearing by across the short wall.
Fucking undertakers.
I roll my eyes back to Vera who still had her gun pointed at them with her left eye closed. Funny, only now do I realize she's not wearing makeup.
Lowering her pistol, the cleaner threw her left hand over her head and closed the palm into a fist. Then she pointed her index finger at the left eye before raising it towards the two lazy bastards by the window. A moment later, she slam the back of her palm on her upper arm.
'Go over the fence, signal Vix the go ahead. Then run for it.'
My brows furrow as I gesture my open palms at her. Her lips drag towards sides of her cheek but not raised, tilting her head towards the window above and resumes aiming position. I tap my forehead with index and middle finger and salute them at her. Wishing good luck, she does the same.
Beats getting lit up in a dark room. I thought as tiptoeing to slide the briefcase on top of wall and take a few steps back. The brick fence is couple of notches higher than me. About 2.3 meters.
Breathe in, breathe out. With a wide stroll forward, my left leg clung to the uneven brick wall while both applied as much pressure as possible on the respective surface like I was kicking someone. Then came a short instant of weightlessness, my left hand press the top as support to continue the momentum while my right found the handle of the briefcase. With my left hand as an anchor point my body spins over the brick wall, my legs almost stuck on the top but the view behind the wall stretches in front of me before gravity takes hold again.
Both of my leg's muscle are screaming as my lungs scream and yearn for air, adrenaline and the effects of inhaler peaked a second ago, now every vain in my body is burning.
Last stretch. Come on……. I put the briefcase down and was about to signal Vix to work til I realize, I'm not the only thing landed on this side of the wall.
A stint on the edge of my sight caught my attention, a spark flew across the dark and landed a few inches by my feet before breaking in two and rolling to the faint sidelines of the basketball court. Leaving a trail of ashes reflecting the moonlight.....
I sign the position of the Bulgarian to Vix across the street and swipe my right palm on my hinged left arm right before the bastard upstairs roars in a hoarse voice.
"Има ги на земя!....."
But the shutting was cut short as a flash of grey flickers at the front seat of the car. I turned around just to see the undertaker fall forward over the open window into mid-air. His legs ludicrously wide open while the arms are strangely stiff by his hips before he disappeared behind the brick wall followed by a crack made of hundreds of smaller cracks, if you're far enough it sounds almost like someone got slap on the cheek. All within three seconds….. And in the next, Vel climbs over the fence and roll down by great effort with the gun still firmly in her right hand.
As she falls next to me I caught a glimpse. Till this day I still find it illogical, or question if I got it wrong because it was too damn dark......
I saw fear in her brown eyes. As she whispers in a husky voice.
"Run."
At that moment I complied only because the look in her eyes.
We sprint like hell sprouts on each previous steps. The sound of Vel's boots against the ground and the crack of 5.56 ammo puncturing the concrete floor intertwined and undistinguishable. The gunshots rang over and over across the empty street. A round must’ve puncture through my jacket two centimeters away from the collarbone at this point since the an abnormal amount of cold sweats sinked my back of reaction. Hours later I would grin like a fool at the hole in my jacket, but in that moment I can only see the headlight of the car across the street.
Vix took another shoot and whipped the engine. The howl of old tires under full pedal adds to the lively fucking night, as she drove the four-seater onto the sidewalks in front.
"Get in!" Vix extends her right arm to open the back seat doors for us while her left hand brings up the rifle on her thigh. Her right foot steps by the shift lever while right arm is firmly on knee with the rifle mount on it. Left eye behind the scope and the right wide open. The long silencer pokes out the car.
Six steps away from the open invitation, another muzzle flash flickers an instance of rhombus flame follow by a chunk of grey smoke. I duck down and threw the package in the car before diving right in, almost bumping into the headliner before my shoulder hits the window roller, the smell of gunpowder crank the space.
I move my legs over and turn my head to the purgatory as Vera bent down to get inside. Her face seemed paler than usual but before I could take another look she slammed the door shut closing the dome light. Another shot hit the trunk with a dull 'plank'.
Vix steps on the pedal with her left foot while maintaining her aiming posture until the building is not visible in the rearview does she put the gun and feet down to hold the steering wheel properly.
The gunshots and their echoes faded into background like the knock of a speed bump, the wind blowing on the highway, and the occasional night shift trucks passing by.