I nod. “All the action will be near the elevators and outside Trent’s door,” I say, “so that room there is something else. We’ll do things properly and clear it before moving on.”
I look at Frank, who seems more agitated as the seconds ticked by.
“You alright?” I ask him.
He looks down at his Mossberg, then at the floor, almost as if he feels ashamed. “I can’t do this, Adrian,” he says.
I holster one of my guns and put my hand on his shoulder.
“I know, Frank. It’s alright. We couldn’t have got here if it weren’t for you, but this quest for revenge is mine, not yours. You’ve only spent your years being pissed at me, and I’d like to think we’ve moved past that now. But I’ve fixated on Trent since the day I found my girls dead, and I need this.”
“No,” he says, shaking his head. “I’ve spent my years blaming you, but my hatred has always been for Trent, same as you. But now he’s dead, this all feels like overkill to me.”
“Maybe it is,” I say with a shrug. “But I killed Trent with my own hands, and I felt nothing. After all this time, there was no closure, no sense of freedom or happiness. There was nothing. This is my way of making sure I can move on. It’s not enough to kill him. I need to bury him so deep it’s like he never existed. And burning this place to the ground is the only way I can do that.”
He nods, understanding if not agreeing. “Okay,” he says after a moment. “I’m with you — let’s finish this.”
On cue, Josh pushes the door open slowly and sticks his head out, looking down the corridor.
“It doglegs slightly to the right,” he says. “I’ve got no visibility of the far end, but at the same time, neither would anyone who might be down there, so we’re clear for now.”
“Move out,” I say.
We walk quietly out into the corridor and look around. Frank and Josh move into position either side of the door nearest to us, and I stand in front of it. We listen for a moment, but I can’t hear anything from inside. Time is a factor here, so I simply open it and walk in.
It’s a large room that appears to have been used for storage. Cardboard boxes line the walls all around, and there are some shelving units, with a metal frame, positioned in the center of the room. What I didn’t expect to find, however, is a young girl, possibly a teenager, gagged and tied to a chair in the middle of the room, to the left of the shelving. There are two men standing watching her — their backs to the door.
I don’t know what’s going on here, but it’s not right. She’s just a kid… what would Trent want with her?
I need to stay quiet, so I can’t shoot these assholes.
The men turn and stare at me, momentarily frozen in shock. Without hesitating, I charge at them, kicking the guy on the left in the balls as I approach them. As he doubles over in pain, I kick him again in the face, like I’m kicking a field goal from the forty yard line. He flies backward to the floor and I turn quickly, lashing out with my right hand and catching the remaining guy on the side of his face with one of my guns. I hit him on the temple and he drops like a stone.
I put my guns away and look at the girl, whose eyes have gone wide. I put a finger to my lips.
“Shhh… it’s okay, kid,” I say, quietly. “I’m not here to hurt you, I promise. I’ll get you out of here.”
She nods slowly, and I pulled the gag from her mouth.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
She nods again without speaking.
I untie her hands and help her up, pointing to the door where Josh and Frank are standing.
“These are my friends,” I say. “Don’t be afraid, okay?” We walk over, and I turn to Frank. “Get her out of here to safety. Josh and I can handle this.”
Without a word, Frank nods and holds out his shotgun to me.
“Give ‘em Hell, Adrian.”
“I didn’t get my name by doing anything less.”
“I’ll head back to the roof and call Oscar, see if he can come and get us,” he says.
“Thanks for everything, Frank,” Josh says. “I’ll see you when this is all over.”
“Take care, the both of you.” He turns to the girl. “You come with me, okay? I’m gonna get you outta here.”
She takes his hand and they walk back to the fire exit. As they open the door, she turns and looks back at me. “Thank you,” she says, quietly.
I smile and nod; unsure what else I can say to her. They head back up the stairs and out into the storm. Josh and I press ourselves against the wall and make our way around the dogleg, likely walking into a storm of our own. Except right now, I’m the thunder, the lightning, the wind and the rain… I’m a walking tornado of devastation, and God help all those who don’t run.
“Stay behind me,” I say to Josh as I crunch the shotgun.
I step around and come to a small lobby with two elevators on the right. Beyond that is a large double door made from expensive wood, with the left hand side open, revealing the room beyond.
The wall opposite the elevators has a large piece of art mounted on it, but from this angle, I can’t make out much more than the edge of the frame. Plus, I’m far too distracted by the ten heavily-armed men that are standing staring at me, like rabbits in the headlights, completely unprepared for my arrival. Either that or they knew I was coming but for some reason thought I’d take the elevator…
I level the shotgun, tucking the stock underneath my right arm and holding the barrel steady with my left. In the split second of confusion, I charge at them, firing off two rounds from the Mossberg. I aim just off-center of the group, to the left first, then the right. The spray of the shots hits them like two cones, causing maximum damage. The front row, consisting of four men, is taken out instantly, launching them backward into the rest of the group; blood pouring out of the gaping wounds in their chests and stomachs.
I let out a visceral scream as adrenaline surges through me. I know that in this reasonably narrow corridor, I have no cover, and all it’ll take is one bullet to put me down, and I can’t afford to start hesitating and thinking about what might happen here.
I chamber another round and fire, catching two more men who are unlucky enough to get to their feet first. I aim low, catching the one on the left just below the hip, right in the center of his thigh. The guy on the right had taken a step back, and the blast caught him on the knee, taking the bottom part of his leg clean off.
The four remaining men scramble to their feet and head for the sanctuary of the room behind them. But one man slips on the blood and as he loses his footing, I hear a three-round burst of gunfire from behind me. The bullets hit his sternum, killing him instantly. Josh appears next to me, his M-16 primed for another assault.
“Didn’t think I’d let you have all the fun, did you, you crazy bastard?” he says.
The door slams shut in front of us as the three men make it inside. I’m not sure what good they think that door’s going to do, given they know I have a shotgun, and Josh has an assault rifle. They must be desperate and not thinking straight.
We take up position either side of the doorway.
“How many inside, do we know?” he asks.
I shake my head. “Didn’t get a chance to see,” I reply. “But it doesn’t matter. They’re all dead.”
He nods. “Got your back, Boss.”
“I’ll go low, you go high, yeah?”
He nods again and moves in front of the doors. I raise my boot and kick them both open with enough force to almost take them off their hinges. I step inside and drop to a crouch.
Oh, shit…
In front of me are the three men who survived the massacre in the hallway, standing in a line in front of a desk, facing me. The room spreads out to the left and right, and looks empty, apart from two leather sofas in front of the desk and some pieces of art dotted around. All around, the windows run floor to ceiling, displaying the impressive landscape of the city below, as well as the equally impressive storm that’s battering down on it.