She’s grabbed his arm by the wrist and pulled him down on top of her. Now she’s shuffling her hips, repositioning her legs, placing one on his left shoulder and one under his right arm, crossing her ankles behind him. She’s trapped his head and right arm, and she’s pushing with her legs while pulling on his wrist. I hear her snarl and grunt through gritted teeth, fighting to ignore the obvious pain it’s causing her to do it.
The pressure her thighs are putting on his neck and throat is making it difficult for him to breathe and cutting off the circulation to his brain. He’s frantically throwing short jabs to her right side, but he can’t put anything behind them that would do any damage.
The bastard’s done.
After another few moments, the jabs slow down. Then they stop. His body starts to go limp, giving up the fight with gravity, but she keeps her grip on him. Her legs must be aching, holding him upright now that he’s barely conscious.
She glances sideways at me and raises an eyebrow.
I nod. “Finish the sonofabitch.”
She takes a deep breath, and then quickly lets go of his wrist, moving her left leg from under his arm and placing it on his shoulder, like the other one. She crosses her ankles again and pushes once more with both legs. She lets him fall to the side and props herself up on her elbow.
From this angle, I can see his eyes rolling up into his skull. His cheeks are turning a light purple, and spit is bubbling on his lips as he tries to talk.
“You’re an asshole, Fernando,” she says to him. “And this is for trying to blow up me and my friend!”
She pushes herself up with her hand and violently twists her lower body, throwing her hip over and snapping The European’s neck between her legs. The crack is loud in the room, as is the dull thud as his head bangs lifelessly against the floor.
Ruby lies flat on her back, resting her body and sighing with relief.
“Nice work,” I say. “I’ve always thought you had killer thighs, but…”
As she stares at the ceiling, she bursts out laughing and runs her hands through her hair and over her face. “Nice!”
The mood lightens for a fleeting moment but soon drops again. I push myself up using the bed for leverage. I rest my left foot tentatively on the floor, and then ease my weight down on it, testing how strong it is. I almost overbalance.
Huh… not very, it seems.
I limp toward Matthews, who has propped himself up against the wall over by the bathroom. He’s sitting on the floor, his shoulders slumped forward with defeat, staring up at the TV screen.
I glance at it. The headline along the bottom has changed. Now it says: THE WORLD AT WAR!
Dramatic, yet frighteningly accurate.
I look down at Ruby and extend a hand, which she takes. I pull her up and she stretches, cracking her shoulders.
“So we’re friends, are we?” I ask, half-smiling.
She shrugs. “Closest thing I’ve got to one at the moment.”
“Yeah…” We bump fists and turn to look at the CIA director. I point to the TV. “So how do we stop this?”
He shakes his head, smiling humorlessly. “You don’t. You can’t. It’s too late.”
I look at Ruby and hold out my hand again. “Gun, please.”
She obliges, and I take aim at Matthews. “You should know that I don’t like being told I can’t do something. I have a somewhat compulsive personality at times, and people saying that to me kinda makes me want to do whatever it is even more, just to prove the fuckers wrong, y’know? So, I’ll ask again — how do we stop this?”
He raises his arms, shrugging with what sounds like frustration. “What do you want me to say? Yes, Adrian, you and your girlfriend here can head outside and take on the entire North Korean Army by yourselves if you want. That’s how you stop it.”
I smile. “Hey, don’t tempt me — the mood I’m in, they wouldn’t stand a chance.”
“This was Cunningham’s plan… all along. He struck a deal with North Korea, saying he would bury any evidence of their troops’ movements, if they agreed to risk the wrath of the West by invading everyone.”
“I don’t get it,” says Ruby. “What’s in it for the Koreans?”
“I don’t know…” says Matthews. “Maybe they want to show the world they survived 4/17, and establish themselves as a new super power? To them, this is their chance to conquer the planet, and Cunningham told them he’d let them providing they left America out of it.”
I shake my head. “No. There’s no way they would believe him.”
“You’d be surprised what those crazy bastards will believe.”
“So what’s Cunningham really planning?”
“His idea is to let them destroy GlobaTech, and then he’ll destroy them using the full might of the United States military. He wants to establish a kind of worldwide martial law, which will give him total control over every nation — damaged or otherwise. He envisions other leaders bowing before him, giving him complete power, and allowing him to unite the planet under one banner.”
I turn to Ruby. “Christ… Hitler didn’t have shit on this guy.”
“So what do we do?”
I don’t get a chance to answer, as there’s another knock on the door. We exchange a look, and I turn to Matthews. “You bring a friend?”
He shakes his head and shrugs. “None to bring. And I turned my cell phone off before I left Langley so I couldn’t be tracked…”
“Watch him,” I say to Ruby. “He moves, kick him in the throat.”
I move slowly over to the door, practically dragging my injured leg behind me. I place the barrel of the gun against the spy hole. “Who is it?”
A deep laugh sounds in the corridor outside. “Room service,” replies Oscar’s familiar voice.
I breathe a sigh of relief, lower the gun, and open the door. He’s standing with a smile on his face, holding a large black sport bag. “Try not to lose these this time.”
I roll my eyes. “Come on in.”
I shut the door behind him as he walks in and looks around in awe at the suite. He lets out a low whistle. “This place is nice…” He nods at the broken balcony doors, then at The European’s body in the middle of the room. “Am I late to the party?”
“Just getting started. He tried crashing, but Ruby put him in his place.”
Oscar looks at her. “How you doing, Ruby?”
She smiles. “I’m good, thanks.”
He drops the bag on the bed just behind her. “Present for you.”
I move next to him. “Have you seen the news?”
He turns and stares at the screen. “Yeah… this is all part of the shit-storm you’ve found yourself in, I’m guessing? What are you gonna—” He turns and sees Matthews for the first time, still sitting on the floor. He looks at me. “Who the hell is that?”
“Oh, sorry — where are my manners. Oscar, this is General Tom Matthews, the director of the CIA. Tom, this is my friend and arms dealer, Oscar.”
Matthews says nothing. Oscar stares at me, wide-eyed, and raises an eyebrow.
“It must be fucking weird being you, man. I mean, really… Who did you piss off in a previous life?”
I shrug. “Probably not as many people as I’ve pissed off in this one. You got a cell phone on you?” He takes one from his pocket and hands it to me. “Thanks. I gotta make a call before someone comes to see what all the noise is about. Ruby, see what ol’ Oscar here has brought to the party, would you?”
I pace slowly away toward where the window used to be, feeling the cold wind rushing in from outside. I step carefully onto the balcony, avoiding the sea of shattered glass, and dial a number from memory.
I just hope to God he picks up.
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