And then there was one…
I stand next to Pellaggio, who’s rooted to his chair. His knuckles are white as he grips the arms. He’s looking up at me, eyes wide and mouth open — the look of a man who hasn’t yet realized that he’s lost everything and is about to die. I lift my goggles up, revealing my face.
“Oh my God!” he yells, his voice quivering. “You’re a goddamn monster! P-please, I’m begging you!”
I raise my gun and place it against his forehead.
“What’s the matter, Roberto?” I say. “Where’s your anger? Where’s your big mafia boss speech where you call me kid and insult me?”
“I’m… I’m sorry, okay! Please, just don’t kill me — I’ll give you whatever you want!”
I find it surprising, and maybe even a little disappointing, how easily he begs for his life, considering everything that’s happened before. But it’s too late. He’s made his choices, and now he has to live with the consequences.
Although, not for very long…
“You’re pathetic. I told you, and I told you, and I fucking told you to drop this. To leave me alone and forget about that land and your money. I warned you quite clearly that if you didn’t, this is how it would end. But still you wouldn’t let it go, would you? You stubborn, arrogant, deluded little prick! And now… now you’ve got nothing. In less than an hour, I’ve single-handedly destroyed your entire operation.”
“Adrian, please… I’ll give you anything you want! You want paying for the Jackson hit? No problem. What was it — a hundred grand? Let’s call it two hundred! Just, please, don’t kill me!”
“Holy shit… really? After all the grief you’ve given me, you’re now going to offer to pay me? You can shove your money straight up your ass!”
Pellaggio sighs. I can see it in his eyes — he knows now that he’s beaten. I just hope for his sake he sorts his head out and goes out like a man.
“You should’ve made sure you killed me with that car bomb. Now it’s time to reap what you sew, you piece of shit.”
“Wha-what are you talking about? I don’t know anyth—”
I fire once just to the left of his head to silence him. I’m not in the mood to listen to anything else he has to say.
“You know what? I told you and Manhattan that you’re the only two people I’ve ever warned more than once. That you’re in an exclusive club… Well, even more exclusive than that are the group of people who have seen exactly why people call me Adrian Hell and lived to tell the tale. Want to know how many of them there are?”
He nods nervously.
I fire again, putting a bullet through his brain. The spray of blood from the exit wound hits the fire behind him, causing the flames to dance momentarily. His head snaps back and his lifeless body slumps forward to the right. He falls off his chair and sprawls face down on the floor at my feet.
“None.”
And just like that, it’s all over.
I let out a heavy sigh and walk over to a chair that someone had knocked over in the initial panic during my descent. I stand it up and sit down, looking around me at the bodies and blood everywhere. The place looks like a battlefield…
I allow myself a couple of minutes to calm down. My heart rate slowly returns to normal. There’s a deathly silence around me as I look at the carnage I’ve caused.
Is there something wrong with me?
I mean, no normal human being should be capable of this much violence, surely? And I feel absolutely nothing. It’s like there’s a black hole inside me. I don’t feel bad, or guilty, or upset… if anything, I feel relief because I know that I’m in the clear and Pellaggio won’t try to come after me.
I guess that’s the thing, isn’t it… after everything I’ve been through in my life, I’m not a normal human being. Not anymore. And if I’m being honest with myself, I like it. I’ve made a living out of embracing that very fact and seeking comfort in it.
I’m Adrian Hell… This… this is what I do.
I take another deep breath and sit back, feeling the door close once again, trapping my inner Satan behind it.
26
I left Pellaggio’s estate as soon as I heard the sirens in the distance. I walked for an hour or so, clearing my head and relaxing myself, allowing the adrenaline to subside. I’d left all my equipment there, except my Berettas, obviously. It was all clean and untraceable, so I wasn’t worried about them being found.
I did a quick sweep of the grounds, to make sure there were no stragglers and to retrieve my Bluetooth earpiece, which was sadly broken beyond repair. I took it with me anyway — the less evidence that I was ever there, the better. I’d taken off my black coveralls and ditched them in a trashcan a mile or so from the estate.
It feels like I’ve walked through most of Heaven’s Valley, but I suppose I am taking the most indirect route I can find back to the bus terminal. I’m trying to clear my head, but there’s something gnawing away at me. It’s not really the lack of closure I feel having killed Pellaggio and all of his men. I’ve already dealt with how indifferent I feel toward that.
No, it’s something else…
A sense of… I don’t know — dissatisfaction? Restlessness, maybe?
I don’t know what it is, but I know what’s causing it.
Dark Rain.
Robert Clark has said he’s going to work with Josh and co-ordinate an assault on their base. I know Clara’s gone doing some recon work to help out. I feel like I should be doing something too. Pellaggio was my personal battle, but Dark Rain is everyone’s war.
I take out my phone and call Josh.
“Adrian!” he says as he answers. “Where the hell have you been? What happened back there? Are you alright?”
I smile. “Hey, man. I’m alright, don’t worry. It’s all over.”
“I know, I watched via the satellite uplink. I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again: I’m glad you’re on my side, Boss!”
“And I’m glad you’re on mine.”
We both laugh.
“How come you went dark?” he asks.
“I banged my head as I jumped up to the roof that second time. My earpiece fell out.”
“Ah, fair enough. I’m just glad you’re alright. Feels weird to admit this, but there was something almost magical about watching that satellite feed. Just seeing body after body drop and turn cold. Knowing it was just you and your guns. It was poetry in motion. You’re one scary bastard, d’you know that?”
“I don’t know about scary. I think it’s more accurate to say I probably have some serious issues.”
Josh laughs, but doesn’t disagree.
“Listen, I was thinking about Dark Rain…” I say.
“I’m due to link up with GlobaTech in a couple of hours,” he says. “They've scheduled their assault for later this morning. They have ground forces en route to the city as we speak. Air support is standing by.”
“Sounds like you’re all good to go. How are they managing to move so many armed troops in broad daylight on U.S. soil? Surely it’s not the most discreet of things to do? Hasn’t anyone questioned it?”
“They’re using the old ‘training exercise’ line, which I suspect the media have gotten used to not questioning. Plus, they’ve got permission and support from the U.S. government, so they’ve got free rein to pretty much do whatever they feel they need to.”
“Unbelievable. I appreciate their help and everything, but do you think it’s wise granting a private contractor that much power?”