It's quite amusing, how two people knew exactly what's about to happen. But neither incept actions for both are thinking if there's an alternative way.
Until the moment I look back do I remembered how often Enzo peak at his watch in nonchalant stretches or adjusted his shirt sleeves under his black jacket. The suit he's rocking hugs the waist perfectly to emphasize his slim but tall figure, it is clearly tailored, then how could it have misaligned shoulder pads?
The three people in this room. Each felt a distinct coldness at their coccyx, a taste of metal and the smell of fish's intestines on the edge of their tongue.
Enzo's face now matches his eyes. Stern and ready with a smirk that drags the lines by his eyelids. Shining blue pupils depicts a vision of the purgatory I'm going through when I'm dead.
Iron or hand?
He's standing, I'm crouching with my back facing him. From his position, I'm at 2 o'clock, one meter away. Execution position.
Hand.
His Longines is on right wrist but that doesn't necessarily mean he's left-handed. Shifting my focus off his eyes for a millisecond. I noticed there is a bronze signet ring on his pinky and a silver mourning ring with no name or date on his index finger. Both on left hand. His right hand is completely free of any decorative objects.
Mainly right-handed, I bet he's keen on his left hand too. But gut instinct will tell him to use his right hand first.
A small movement almost went unnoticed. His left index finger twitched.
Did I guess it wrong......
Before the voice in my head could finish the sentence. The frigid blue ocean broke apart, the venom, bitterness underneaths it rising from the seabed, to surface.
I rotate my body with my right hand shooting forward toward his hand, which is moving away from his belt with a CZ 75. I was a blink slower than him, my right hand barely reached him when his sights were already in the adumbration of my face, my right eye can almost see the round through his barrel before I dash to the left.
Thankfully he didn't want to fire without consent, probably because it's going to be hard to explain why there was more than one gunshot and the merc is dead.
His caution gave me the chance to grab his right wrist and force his line of fire off me. An irritation appears on Enzo's face as his brows slightly got closer to each other. The kind of face you make when you missed the mosquito on your arm.
Almost at the same time, we both launch a punch with our free hand and they landed on each other's face simultaneously. But I'm still applying pressure on his right arm which pushes him further from me. Despite his reach is further, punching someone at you right with left hand while not being able to rotate your body wouldn't do shit.
The punch only touched my nose leaving a pressure on it and destroying my sense of smell for the next few minutes.
Ain't nothing compare to him.
Mine landed directly where his jawline connects his ear. My right-hand draws back a bit while I wind up my punch, rotating my body to make my punch pack an extra speed. The adrenaline accompanied by the feeling of breaking your own hand felt goddamn nostalgic, especially when you see your opponent's face turned in a violent motion because of your strike. I swear Enzo's eyes roll back for a second as his head lowered, and his right upper arm's tensed muscles seem to let go a little.
But he didn't go that easy.
Half a second later, the pale blue eyes rolled back, burning like the center of a roaring blaze.
His right arm draws in with an unstoppable force, dragging me forward. At the edge of my eye, I see his left thumb brush the mourning ring then came a glint, straight at the center of my vision. Muscle memory kicked in and force me to turn my head to avoid whatever it is as much as I can.
His left palm clutched half of my face tight. So tight that I felt his rings sink into my skin. No wait, there's something else. The sharp pain from a blade. The skin around the edge of my brow is squishing together. Enzo let out a frustrated grunt.
He moves his palm towards my nose, trying to poke my eye out with his thumb. The sharp pain drags across my brow, cutting deep into my skin. Pain blooms simultaneously a second slower than action, breaking through the threshold name adrenaline.
Razor ring. He cut me with a prostitute's self-defense weapon.
Playing dirty eh? You really have no idea how I spent my time before I became a freelancer huh?
I slide my right foot back and apply more pressure on his right arm so the side of body is facing me. My right knee accelerates to his kidney, the softness between rib and ilium. Enzo squints as he coughs out a silent scream. I position my left leg a step forward, between his legs while my body rotates to the back facing him.
My right hand still clutching his right wrist, and his left-hand drags the cut deeper and longer. I extended my left arm forward till its limit. Then send it back with all of my strength. The elbow landed on his mouth, his left hand shook but the blade is still gauging my skin. So I do it again, this time hitting his nose, sending his face backward dragging the cut on my face longer. I can feel my eyes watering. The third one hit his eye socket.
Finally, his hand let go, strength leaving his right upper arm. I slam my right fist down the barrel of his pistol, making it drop to the floor without effort.
Blood finally starts dripping down, blocking my right eye's vision, forcing me to shut it. But it only keeps the stream of blood dripping till it forms a stopping point at my chin.
I let out a voice I don't recognize and push Enzo away with my shoulder, he falls on the floor, panting in small inhalations. I pull out my 1911 from my back holster and point it not so firmly at his face, I can't even see properly like this let alone aim. But he gets the idea.
I kick his CZ 75 on the ground to the wall with my feet and change my gun to my left hand. Then set down on the floor, panting long breaths, not looking much better than Enzo probably.
***
Blood keeps dripping down the nasty wound Enzo tear, the burning sensation slowly transforming to a constant itch, like worms consuming your flesh. A tiny portion of it got into my mouth, and now the taste of iron is all on my mind. Nothing new, all as irritating.
With my hand on my knee, I get up but kept my .45 at him. With not-so-steady steps, I tremble myself to the cabinet again. On the way there I almost step on the vomits of Alonzo, and Alonzo himself next to the pile. He's got an unseen emotion in his eyes, not sure if it's shame that he couldn't help, or despair that his last chance of getting out was vanquished. Either way, I don't care.
My butt bumps the sink while I was focused on Enzo across the room, I grab the towel (hopefully a towel) next to it and open the water tap. The sloshing sound of water, Enzo's short breaths, and the grunts of my throat, all seemed extra loud in my ear.
I dip the corner of the towel wet and wipes off the blood on half of my face until I can open my right eye and my reflection on the steel sink doesn't look that scary. Then I fold the corner back and press the dry cotton fabric on my wound, start applying pressure on it. With my back leaning against the cabinet, I take a look at Enzo on the ground.
He is in far worst shape, the knee to his side potentially caused internal bleeding, and felt like he got hit by a car. His face is all messed up, the color of purple and dark red prophesying later bruises and swells, a small trickle of blood rows down his nose. He quickly whips it clean before it ruin his vest. And by some fucking miracle, his suit remains completely fine after the havoc, spares some wrinkles.
After he can finally breathe normally again, Enzo raises his shaking hands with redden knuckles to envelop his nose, with an unnervingly loud crack he pushes the bridge back to the center. The trickle of blood fell down again but he didn't make a single grunt or scream of pain in the process.
He's used to this too.
I grab another bottle from the cabinet and the unmovable power of habits makes me look at the bottle first again. No age statement, cask strength...at least I won't feel bad about it.
I think to myself as I take a sizable swig, feeling 56% of alcohol blunting the sharp edges of my nerves, dulling them before removing the towel and splash oak color liquor on my wound.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
A scream broken by a cough roars out my mouth as my brow and forehead are set on fire like a line of gun powder leading to the keg named brain. The worst part is that this pain isn't momentarily, but continuous. And all I can do is take another swig and pressure the towel back on.
With my shit taken care of, looking at Enzo's forever shining blue eyes, I found it hilarious how me, Enzo, Alonzo are back exactly where we stand minutes ago.
"Talk." Enzo slowly stood up with his back arched. "Now." I clock back the hammer.
"You sure this is what you gonna do? Shoot me? You think the boys next door would believe what you say?"
This fucking guy.....
"There's a whole world outside this room, but we are not. So how about we focus on that? And I ain't exactly in the best mood tonight, so you better start talking before I put a bullet in you out of frustration." Enzo let out a sign that sounds like he was spitting and pointed at his spot at the corner of the room where he sat.
"May I sit down first?"
"You can stand, keep sitting on the floor, or lie flat on the floor." Enzo momentarily closes his eyes before he takes two steps back and falls back on the floor, with his back against the wall, palms up.
"So what you want to talk about, Chino?"
"Alonzo opens doors, what were you going to do?" For a while, Enzo's completely motionless. His chin tilts down so I couldn't see his eyes. Then he cracks his shoulder, straightens his back when he raises his head again. The glint in his eyes becomes calmer than before, what used to be the deep blue sea now is a solid sapphire with anger in its core.
"To make sure nothing goes wrong, and Nicola stays in the building tonight."
"And wait for the fireworks to start?" Enzo's mouth clicks before he spits out a gooey blood sputum. "Employer of the damn month here..... the O'deans, they outside yet?" Enzo's eyes shift down to his empty right wrist. I must have ripped it off during the fight.
"Care to tell the time?"
"Just pass 11 and a half." He smirks with his blood-stained teeth out.
"Punctuality is a virtue among us you know?" I take another swig from the bottle. "The way I see it chino......You can try to sneak out from the back, or take your chances and stay inside. Either way, shooting me wouldn't help and you know it."
I briefly considered killing them both and then jumping out the window which…… considering all this doesn’t sound too bad.
Enzo is resting his head by the wall smiling and Alonzo's staring at me while sitting on the floor. These two know time is on their side, there's nothing I could do in this situation. And there's nothing they need to do except stall...
Between 11:30 to 11:50. There are still 20 minutes left.
I could get out from the back and make Enzo to vouch for me if the O'deans suspect something. Would be tricky to get him to do that especially without much time left, but right now it is my best bet. The place is going to turn into a slaughterhouse, the reapers will smoke the ground floor while the O'deans sneaks up from the back door through the stairs, Nicola's man will be waiting but it doesn't matter since the reapers are going to draw their attentions first. That fat fuck and his crew upstairs wouldn't even have time to react.
Then, 12 gauge shotguns and automatic rifles will wake up the whole neighbors and blocks out the sound of screams, not from the ones got shot but the once hasn't. The cop's fastest respond time is about 8 minutes, the whole incident will end in five. When the blasted door is open, first came the sound of broken glasses on the floor clicking, then the smell alone will make them stop at te door front, machinery, an eche like there's something hot at the bottom of throat. Then the iron, the kind you taste in the air of a nursing home or ICU if the smell of fear is real it would be that.
Last, eyes will need to take a second to gather the information in front before it sends it to your brain. And a sweetness came rushing from the bottom of your throat to the end of your tongue. You throw up, because the view. And you try to say something, but nothing comes out. Nothing at all. It's only when the part of my brain decided what cocktail of chemicals it should produce for the scenario. Then my feet gives up, along the.........
I take a huge swig of the bottle, an obnoxious dizziness clouds my mind.
Fuck me. It's getting more and more frequent...
A wild idea surfaced, before I could stop it my mind already presented me an entire act in details. Goddamn it! What am I expecting? Fucking relief?
Between Alonzo and Enzo, the latter is definitely more convincing but harder to control. Though now is not the time to play it safe.
You dumb piece of shit..... you helpless little orphan...
Alonzo wouldn't be of any use if he keeps on acting like that, more so if he wasn't acting while Nicola questioned him.
Beyond saving and reasoning...... Throw your bloody life away in honor of them, or live through it and see how you feel afterwards.....
***
I raise my gun and take a few steps closer to Enzo and Alonzo whose pupils expanded as I stop three steps away from him, still holding my pistol with my left hand and pressure the now bloodied towel with my right hand.
"I have a proposition that would benefit.... almost everyone. But first, I'm going to need you to answer my questions gravely. Cause if you don't, then I'm officially a dead man and I'll take you with me just for the heck of it."
"Ask then. You don't have much time left." Enzo's initial reaction was amused but as his eyes met mine, he puts away his smirk.
"Alonzo did it out of spite.......What's your excuse? What do you get out of this?"
Enzo tilts his head to the side, eyes narrowed, hand on knee. Silently contemplating what this has to do with anything, a million thoughts are racing inside his skull, his left eye bag lowered making him look older. After 13 precious seconds. He exhales slowly.
"Mostly money."
"Anything else?"
"Many." He adds with a hint of a smile. "But at this moment. I know you'll be satisfied with this answer." I felt a grin climb onto my face.
"How much?"
"A negotiable amount."
"Good enough for me. How well do you know the O'deans?" Enzo pauses for a second.
"I spoke to the crew a couple of times on east, they like me. Their greasy bosses don't, but I doubt if they will get their hands dirty."
"Wait, wait. Enzo..." Alonzo finally got a grip on what was happening in front of him. His head turns back and forth between us.
"They any good?" Enzo let out a laugh and immediately put his hand on the spot I hit him, dark brows knit tightly together.
"They wouldn't need to spend a fortune on reapers and two Judas if they are."
"Enzo what are you...."
"You want me to talk them out of this?" The amused expression in his eyes is back as he cut off Alonzo's words. I let out a chuckle, the muscle movement made the wound starts to bleed again.
"I want you to stall them, as much as you can..... While I deal with the reapers." Even I don't believe the words that came out of my mouth. Neither does Enzo, who starts laughing with the voice of terminal lung cancer case before the pain in his kidneys stops him again. Alonzo just looks at me like I'm a madman. Not far from the truth though.
"And how would you do that, chino?" I shrug.
"I'll talk them into it. You worry about the O'deans, keep them busy, keep them distracted, keep them away from the radios and phones. When I'm done with Knox's group I'll let you know."
"And? They aren't mercenaries, these guys have been planning this for a long time and invested too much to fail. They won't back down."
"Oh, they will, once they know the cleaners bounce off, Nicola knew their coming and this was a trap."
A tiny crack materialize on the set of blue sapphires, and for the first time, Enzo was moved. Then came an awfully long silence. Alonzo keeps looking back and forth between me and Enzo, his vision once shifting to the gun in my hand and the CZ75 by the wall.
"....Your little plan all relies on convincing the cleaners to step out." Enzo hissed with a husky voice. "What if you failed?"
"Then I ride shotgun to hell and you carry on with your delayed retribution." I shrug again.
"....and what makes you think I would do as you said?" With a poker face on, right brow slightly raised. Enzo almost look innocent when he asked. I let out a sigh and starts pulling off the oldest trick in the book.
"First of all, this." I shake the .45 pistol still firmly in my grip. "Second, because we're going to tell Nicola the truth." Enzo's pupils expanded, the lines of his face stiffen.
"That ain't going to cut."
"Relaxed, I haven't told you what's the truth yet!" I slowly move back to the wall where Enzo's gun is while facing them.
"The truth is, we managed to crack everybody's favorite pal Alonzo over here," I said in a mockingly grand tone while gesturing to the poor guy on the ground still couldn't keep up with what was going on.
"He told us their whole plan, and we came up with a risky but plausible way to get out of this." Crunching on the ground I let go of the towel to pick up Enzo's CZ75, the part of my face is basically numb and swollen but the action still stings.
"The plan is to use the bad connection and distrust between those two groups outside to alienate them, so he could actually live through tonight. You would go through the back door to negotiate with the O'deans before they smell something fishy about Alonzo's absence. And buy me time. While I, will embark on the road of a martyr and face the grim reapers outside. Either we succeed or not, everyone inside will be waiting passionately with guns loaded...."
"At us and them......" Enzo lets out a hum. "And what exactly do I get out of this?" Enzo asks with little concerns.
"Favor of both sides, not getting shot. And I'll match whatever they offered you." Enzo chuckles an ingenue laugh.
"One more thing, in the future days. I'll come to you for something, maybe I need a favor, a problem needs solving, a job needs an action pair of hand. And you'll take it, no matter what. Promise that and you have yourself a deal." Smiling ear to ear Enzo got up from the ground and starts walking towards me, the shiver down my spine came back, feebly warning me of this man.
"Deal." Three steps away from me, he extended his right hand. The lamp on top of his head cast a shadow upon me with his tall figure, his face is in poor light all I can see is his shining blue eyes and a glimpse of his white teeth from smirking. The shiver continues. But I ignored it again and extended my right hand to shake his with the gun in my left grip still pointing at him. Mimicking his smirk.
I think about that night constantly in the future, thinking if I could find a different way to end that mess or a different approach to the scenario. Came up with a few, but at the time, that was the only way I could think of. And I was naive enough to believe I was in control.
***
I pick up the bloodstained towel on the ground, wash it clean at the sink before I wrap it around my head as a bandage.
11:43, I survey the room one last time, Enzo's leaning against the wall with the most casual expression you could think of since no matter the results, he'll be the winner. His ringed left pinky tabs his right wrist where his watch was. Telling me to hurry the fuck up.
I ignored him and make sure the towel is secure in place again and holster my .45 back on my waist. When I look up again, I inevitably saw Alonzo. Still sitting on the floor next to his dried vomit, head low, eyes lower, shoulder sacked downward, elbows resting on knees. Still shocked by how things went in the past 30 minutes.
I can feel the weight of Enzo's gaze on me.
11:44 I'm out of time.
Walking towards Alonzo, he didn't move or twitched even when I'm standing behind him.
"Did you mean what you said back when Nicola asked you why?"
The statue in front of me tilts his head back a little, good thing I can't see his eyes like this.
"Does it matter?"
Does it matter?
Euforia taught me lots of things, some of which were forced on me. I learned as much as I can. But sometimes, I felt like I skipped some very important lessons.
14 months later, on a rainy night, at an alleyway next to a street of neon lights. I would share my thoughts on this kind of thing with a girl I just met that night. And many times in the future too.
Consequences.
I thought of a few, but none of them affects me negatively. So I take out Enzo's CZ75, thumb brushes past the offed safety, and rack the slide back. Of course he already has one in the chamber. Standing at his 8 o'clock pointing the muzzle at his head. Execution position.
Good trigger squeeze, but the bang is so loud no wonder he hesitant to pull the trigger. Everyone in the building must've heard it.
11:45 Walking passed Alonzo's body on top of blood and vomit. I open the door, leave the room with Enzo.