Bless her.
I pick up my bottle and take another sip of beer as I plan my first five moves.
I doubt I’ll need more than five.
Fighting is like chess, you see — plan ahead and you’ve won before you even start.
The tall one inches forward. “You need to leave. You’re in the wrong place, asshole.”
“Actually, princess, the fact you four are threatening me kinda says I’m in the right place, and you just want me to leave. Which isn’t happening. Just save yourselves a lot of time and suffering, and get Ashton Case for me. I’m here as a friend — got my little white flag and everything. There’s no need for this. I’ve got enough on my plate without having to waste my energy on the Four Horsemen of the Apothecary.”
The guy frowns.
I sigh. “Apothecary — it’s like a drug store.”
I pause to give him chance to work it out, but he’s not getting it.
I shake my head, like I’m addressing a child who doesn’t understand why they’re being told off. “I’m insinuating you’re not threatening…”
He continues to stare at me, a blank, vacant expression on his face as he focuses on nothing except trying to look intimidating.
I sigh again. “Okay, never mind.”
I push myself off my stool, thrusting my forehead into the nose of the guy in front of me, shattering the cartilage. The crack, and subsequent squelch of exploding blood, is audible, and a little gross.
First move.
As he’s falling backward, I bring my leg up slightly, then whip it straight out, hitting the man on my far right on the side of his knee. He drops to the floor and rolls around, clutching at it.
Second move.
I flip the beer bottle in my hand, spilling its contents on the floor as I grab it by the neck. I look at the guy second from the right and quickly smash it down like a hammer on the top of his head. The glass shatters on impact, and he drops to the floor.
It’s not like in the movies, either, where they use that thin fake shit — this is thick, heavy, real glass, and it requires a ridiculous amount of force to actually break it. And doing so over someone’s skull will leave them feeling unhappy for a good while.
Third move.
I spin counterclockwise, raising my arm in anticipation of the remaining guy on the far left engaging his brain and deciding he should maybe do something. I block his inevitable punch, deflecting it with my forearm. As part of the spin, my right arm is already coming around, fist clenched. It flies through the gap caused by the deflection and connects firmly with his jaw. He falls away, bouncing off the surface of the bar and hitting the floor.
Fourth move.
Using my momentum to keep the turn going, I bring my left elbow up and whip it backward, connecting with the first guy, who’s just getting to his feet and thinking about doing something silly. It catches him on the cheekbone and puts him back down, hard.
Fifth move.
Job done.
“I thought it was you,” I hear a voice say behind me.
I turn around to see Ashton Case standing at the side of the bar near the entrance, with the waitress next to him. He’s a tall man with broad shoulders. A little chubbier than I remember, but, then again, I haven’t seen him in a long time. He’s clean-shaven with a rough face and dark eyes. His voice is gravelly in the way only smoking forty-a-day can achieve.
“Didn’t recognize you at first with the beard,” he continues, gesturing to his own face as he looks at me. “How you been, Adrian?”
I smile and shrug. “Been better, I’ll be honest.” I gesture to the pile of bodies on the floor with my thumb. “These guys with you?”
He waves his hand dismissively. “Nah, we all work for the same man, but those assholes have nothin’ to do with me.”
I walk over to him and we shake hands.
“Whatever it is must be bad if you’ve come here,” he says. “Drink?”
“Please. I dropped my last one…”
He smiles. “Yeah, I saw. Come on, we’ll go in the back.” He looks at the waitress. “Naomi, sweetheart, would you mind bringing me and my friend a couple of cold ones? I’ll be in my office.”
She smiles. “Sure thing, Ash.” She looks at me apologetically. “Sorry about before. I wasn’t sure—”
I hold my hand up, cutting her off. “No need to apologize to me. You did good.”
She heads back behind the bar, and I retrieve my bag from over by my stool before following Case through a door just to the side of where the restaurant seating area starts.
We walk up some stairs and through another door, which leads to a studio apartment. It’s a basic layout but exquisitely furnished. There’s a large leather sofa with its back to the door facing a flat screen TV mounted on the opposite wall. Over to the left is a four-poster bed with closets on either side. Across from that, by the window, is an office area filled with computer equipment and smaller screens. Next to the door, on the near wall, is a bathroom.
“Nice place,” I say, impressed.
Case shrugs. “It’s minimal but effective. I eat downstairs when I’m hungry. When I’m here, I either sleep or shit. What more do you need, right?”
“Fair point.”
We walk across the room and both take a seat on the sofa.
“So, what brings you here, Adrian?”
I fix him with a look with my tired eyes. I take a deep breath, scratch the hair on my throat, and proceed to tell him everything that’s happened in the last couple of weeks.
3
My story took a while. And three beers apiece. But he’s all caught up now.
“So, that’s about it,” I say. “What do you think?”
Case is sitting in front of me staring at the wall, his jaw slack and eyes wide. I watch him for a moment, waiting for some kind of response, but nothing is forthcoming.
I know that feeling.
I smile. “Yeah, welcome to my life.”
He looks at me. “How the fuck did you wind up in the middle of all that?”
I shrug. “A whole lot of bad luck, mostly. End of the day, we might try to leave the life, but the life rarely leaves us, Ash.”
“No kiddin’. So, all of what you just said is on the level?”
I nod. “I’m afraid so. Obviously 4/17 was tragic, and I had a front row seat for it. But the damage the attacks caused isn’t limited to the physical fallout. The half of the world not decimated is still in danger of being corrupted and… cleansed, almost… by Cunningham’s master plan.”
Case shakes his head slowly with disbelief. “And you’re sure the president is behind this?”
I pull the flash drive from inside my shirt and show it to him. “Got it all here. My next move is to stop him, so the guys over at GlobaTech Industries can focus on fixing the world and getting things back to the way they were. Or better. You never know…”
Case stands and paces across the room, staring at the floor with his hands in his pockets. “And how exactly do you intend to do that?” he asks. “I mean, it’s the president of the United fucking States, Adrian. What’re you gonna do?” He scoffs. “Kill him?”
I fix him with an unblinking stare, but say nothing.
“Holy shit. You’re gonna try to kill him, aren’t you?”
I nod. “There’s no other way. He’s too powerful. He’s got the CIA running interference for him, and he’s got all three branches of the military at his disposal, should another country get any ideas. Not to mention he still has control of Cerberus. No, the only way to end this is to put him down.”