“So what happened?” asks Clara.
“Trent put the word out that his son had been hit. It didn’t take long from him to track down my client, and it took even less time to convince him to give me up. Within a few days, I had five guys kicking in my front door, intent on killing me. An example needed making to send a message, to remind everyone that you didn’t mess with Wilson Trent.”
I pause and finish off my drink as I’m inundated with memories and images — visions from that day that will haunt me forever… and the darkness I tried to crawl out of in the years that followed.
“You alright?” she asks, leaning forward on the table. “You don’t have to explain anything to me, y’know? I’m serious — I was just kidding around before.”
“I know,” I reply. “Thank you. But it’s okay. I want to tell you.”
She nods and leans back against the seat, taking another sip of her beer.
“I wasn’t home when they came round,” I continue. “But they kicked down the door and stormed in to find that my wife and daughter were. Maria was just seven years old…” I let the sentence trail off for a moment as I picture my baby girl, smiling at me. “When I got home later that night, I found them both hog-tied on the kitchen floor with bullets in their heads and chests. They'd turned the house upside down and trashed it almost beyond repair. At the time, I had no idea what had happened. I just panicked, packed a bag, grabbed my guns and left. I rang the police a couple of hours later and said I was a concerned neighbor who had heard gunshots. I’ve not been back home since.”
“Jesus, Adrian, I’m so sorry,” she says. Her eyes are filling up with tears.
“That’s why I wouldn’t have dreamed of making a move on you, or even looking at you in that way,” I say. “As far as I’m concerned, I’m still married.”
She nods and smiles, casually wiping away the single tear rolling down her right cheek. “That’s very admirable of you,” she says. “So, how come you’ve never gone after this Trent guy since?”
“I hadn’t been in the freelance business that long when it all happened, and back then I was out of my league going up against a man like Trent. I just ran, keeping clear of the East Coast to this day. Nowadays, I’m more than capable of going after him, but… I’m not ready to face my past yet, or my guilt for running away in the first place. I was in a bad place for a long time. If it wasn’t for my friend, Josh, getting me through those dark times, I probably would’ve eaten a bullet years ago.”
“Well, you shouldn’t feel guilty, Adrian. Anyone in your position would’ve done the same.”
I smile. “Thank you for saying so, but that doesn’t make living with it any easier.”
“No, I imagine it doesn’t… I’m sorry.” She pauses for a moment. “So, your life since then has basically involved traveling around the country and killing people for money?” she asks, trying to change the subject and lighten the mood.
“You make it sound so glamorous,” I chuckle. “But yeah, that’s pretty much it. I learnt my lesson the hard way not to take jobs in my hometown. So now, I don’t live anywhere — makes it much simpler. Over the years, I’ve earned my reputation and made plenty of money doing something I’m very good at. Things could be a lot worse.”
“It must be lonely though, all that traveling on your own?”
I shrug. “I’m used to it. I’ve always got Josh to talk to and I’ve learned to embrace my anonymity.”
“You’re hardly anonymous though, are you? Every criminal in North America who’s worth a damn has heard of you.”
I smile. In truth, my reputation isn’t limited to North America and it isn’t limited to criminals. Let’s just say I’ve been around…
“That’s as maybe,” I say, smiling. “But I still can’t be found unless I want to be. I’d call that pretty anonymous.”
I take another sip of my drink and glance around the bar. Outside, through the front window, I see a black Humvee pull up. It mounts the curb at a decent speed, sliding to halt with a loud screech. The doors fly open and four people step out.
What the…?
Are they holding guns?
I see them form a line in front of the bar.
Yes, those are definitely guns… assault rifles, in fact.
They take aim…
Oh, shit!
“Everybody get down!” I yell.
I grab Clara’s hand and drag her out of the booth as the bullet start flying. The air fills with the rapid, pumping roar of automatic gunfire and the stench of cordite.
“What’s happening?” she shouts as I overturn a table, pulling us both down behind it.
“I’m pretty sure we’re getting shot at,” I say.
I look around and see people running and screaming in blind panic. The furniture and decor are getting shredded by the onslaught from outside. The glass behind the bar shatters, exploding everywhere. Nearby I can hear the dull squelch as bullets impact someone’s body, piercing their flesh with an unholy fury. A lucky few seem to have found cover, but nothing’s going to protect anyone for long against this.
I risk a quick peek over the table to get a glimpse at who’s attacking us. I can see the four figures through the smoke and haze. There’s a woman who, judging by her figure and outfit, I’m assuming is Natalia Salikov — the super-scary assassin Clara mentioned yesterday. The other three are guys I’ve not seen before. But if Natalia’s here, that means Dark Rain has found me.
Or found Clara.
I look over at her as she looks at me, clearly coming to the same conclusions.
“You packing?” she shouts.
I reach behind me and produce my two babies. “Always,” I say, handing her one. I reach into my pocket and hand her a spare magazine. She nods at me gratefully, checking how full it is and loading the gun.
I motion for her to stay under cover where we are and she nods in agreement. I take another quick look at the front and, happy they’re all momentarily pre-occupied with causing as much damage as possible, I run to my left and fire three rounds blindly in their general direction. I slide on my knees and stop behind another batch of tables, taking cover again. I look over at Clara, who’s doing her best to return fire.
I tense my jaw muscles as I think. We’ve got no chance of winning a straight up shootout against these people — we’re too heavily outgunned. I glance around for some inspiration and see the door at the far side of the bar area. That must lead into the back area and hopefully out of the building…
Clara breaks cover and runs to my side, letting off four rounds that cause one of the gunmen to duck down momentarily. I look at her as she crouches down beside me. She can certainly handle herself, I’ll give her that. Right now, I have to admit I’m very glad to have her on my side.
“We can’t stay here,” I shout to her. “There’s a door behind us. We’re gonna have to make a run for it.”
She nods in agreement, as she squeezes off a few more rounds just as the table splinters just above her head. I look over to see which of the gunmen has locked on to us. They’re standing in a line, with Natalia second from the left. The guy on the far right is emptying another clip in our direction.
I duck back down to avoid another burst, then spring up and unload three more rounds at the guy on the right. The first one misses, but the second and third hit the spot.
One hits him in the chest, making him stagger backward and spray bullets in a wide arc toward the ceiling. The other catches him on the jaw, and the bottom half of his head explodes in a pink and white mist, as bone and blood fly off in all directions.