I move my left leg back slightly, dropping into a loose southpaw stance. I bring my right hand up, ready to use it as a weapon if I need to.
The guy holds a hand up. “The Order has no desire for any further conflict. Don’t make this hard on yourself.”
I shrug. “If they didn’t want more conflict, they shouldn’t have killed my friend. Or kidnapped my… Kaitlyn.”
“Look, I don’t know about all that, alright? Nor do I care about it. I’m not one of their assets. I work for Pierce. My only job right now is to take you to see the man upstairs. If you wanna make that a problem, fine. They just said you have to be alive… not conscious.”
He moves his hand to rest on the butt of his gun.
I raise an eyebrow.
Cocky little prick, isn’t he?
Ah, well. Fuck him.
I breathe in heavily, embracing the flow of adrenaline, and glare at each of these guys in turn. I’m going to take them out, steal their guns, walk in through the front door, and kill anyone who gets in my way. Then I’m going to—
Adrian, listen to the man, alright? I want to go in there and rip everyone’s head off just as much as you do, but this guy’s giving you a free pass right to the big man’s door. Take the easy option, save your strength, and you avoid having to fight hundreds of guys one-handed and unarmed. I’m just saying…
I sigh.
It’s coming to something when I’m so angry, even the voice in my head that represents all of my uncontrollable rage and fury starts making more sense than I do.
Fine. You win.
I nod to the guy. “Alright, ass-wipe, lead the way.”
I walk toward them, push through the line, and walk casually through the doors.
Holy crap!
This place is incredible!
The entrance is spacious, and the décor is lavish beyond words. Just to the right as you enter, there’s a line of men and women, dressed formally and ready to offer me a hot towel… some hand oil, I think… some tea… chocolate… fruit…
Jesus.
Behind them, away to the right, is the front desk. There are two people standing behind it, ready to serve. The whole thing looks as if it’s made out of gold. To be fair, knowing this place, it probably is!
The men quickly follow me inside and move to surround me, forming a loose square. We walk across the lobby, past a huge, star-shaped fountain, which is periodically shooting jets of water into the air, and over to the elevators. The whole wall looks like a weird, golden honeycomb, with marble pillars running up between the plethora of windows.
One of the guys in front of me steps forward and pushes the button. A moment later, the doors slide open with a quiet hiss. Inside is a hotel employee dressed in a red velvet tunic with a gold trim, and a matching hat. He looks young and fresh-faced, can’t be older than twenty. He smiles and nods eagerly to us.
The two guys in front of me drag him out unceremoniously, then walk inside the elevator. I feel a hand on my shoulder, urging me forward. I stand my ground, turn my head slightly to look at the hand, then more to address the guy behind me. “Move it, or I’ll break it.”
He shakes his head. “Whatever.”
He moves it.
I step inside slowly. I’m not thrilled about being in an enclosed space with these guys, but I don’t really have much choice, I guess. They follow me in and press the button. Another moment passes and the doors glide shut. The elevator surges gently and we begin our climb.
I glance casually around, noting the positioning of each guy.
“So, are we going straight to see your boss? Or is this, like, the first of three elevators we need to take?”
“What’s it to you?” replies the guy in front of me on the right.
I shrug. “I’m just not crazy about heights. I like to know how far off the ground I am, y’know…”
Silence.
“Yeah, this takes us straight to his suite.”
“Ah, excellent.”
I glance at the console of buttons on the left side. We’ve got thirty floors left to climb. Twenty-nine… Twenty-eight…
I don’t like the fact I’m surrounded before I even get up there. I know for a fact Horizon’s suite is well protected. I need the freedom to fight, should things go south up there, and I can’t do that with these four ass-hats standing around me.
I look around the carriage idly. It’s pretty spacious, for an elevator. The doors are lined on the inside with a red velvet padding, like a cushion. There’s a gold handrail on each of the other three sides, roughly level with my hips. Every side is decorated the same way, with a mirror above the handrail, and the same padding as the doors below it.
Like on the way in, I’m standing in the middle, with a guy in each corner. All guns still holstered.
Amateurs.
I close my eyes for a moment, planning each move in my head, seeing what works and what doesn’t. I need to hit Bottom Left and Bottom Right first. They can grab me with minimal effort, so they’re more dangerous in this situation. Top Left and Top Right need to think, turn, and then act, which takes valuable seconds. I’ll be ready for them by the time they’re looking, so whatever they’re thinking of will be ineffective.
I open my eyes again, feeling a renewed focus. I take another look at the console.
Twenty-two… Twenty-one…
Alright. Showtime.
Time slows down as my Inner Satan gets to work. He knows what he needs to do.
I take a small step back and swing my right arm clockwise, hard and fast. No one’s expecting anything, and my cast makes clean contact with Bottom Right’s face. The second I see him start to drop, I jump backward, elbow first, and connect with Bottom Left’s jaw. I force my body into him, pinning him to the side, stunned. I quickly grab the rail on my left, lean back harder against the guy, and whip my right leg up, like I’m kicking a field goal. I time it perfectly. Just as Top Left’s turning around, my foot buries itself into his balls. I watch for a split-second as his eyes bulge from the impact.
I spin around, grab Bottom Left’s collar, and fling him across the carriage, turning as I do for extra momentum. I see him collide with Top Right, who was reaching for his gun. I look over at Bottom Right, who’s sitting on the floor with a vacant expression. I take one step toward him and thrust my knee into his left temple. He was just the right height. His head slams against the side of the elevator, and I see his eyes roll back in his head.
He’s done.
I turn to look at Top Left. He’s still upright, but bent over, clutching his balls. Poor guy. No matter what the situation, I always feel a sliver of remorse after delivering a good kick to the nuts. Unfortunately, his day’s not about to get any better…
I step to meet him and swing my cast down at his head. It arcs with refined accuracy and hits him on his jaw. He slumps sideways, landing heavily on the floor.
The last two guys are still fumbling against each other, stunned by the attack. Bottom Left still has his back to me. I snake my left arm around his throat and squeeze as I drag him away from the corner. I move him out to the left slightly, freeing up just enough space for me to launch another kick. This one catches Top Right in his gut. He doubles over as the wind is knocked out of him, and I throw another kick, meeting his head with my foot. It connects with his face, and I hear the squelch as the impact crushes the cartilage in his nose.
He’s done.
I re-focus on Bottom Left. He’s struggling against my grip, but he doesn’t stand a chance. I squeeze tighter and move my right hand behind his head, grab the crook of my elbow with my left hand and push forward as hard as I can on the base of his skull. I push my chest into him and count.
One…
Two…
I feel him sag unconsciously against me. I let go of the chokehold and he falls to the floor.