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“Did you tell frank to come in later?” Andrei asks me.
“No, why the fuck would I do that?”
“Then where the fuck is he?”
“That’s what I’m going to find out.”
I walk faster to the entrance, itching to blow off some steam. When I open the door, the stench of metal wafts toward us. Blood… I know that scent anywhere.
I take my gun out and hold it in front of me, and Andrei does the same. We take a few steps forward but stop when we see the sight in front of us. Andrei's breath catches, but I stay calm. I’ve seen worse. I’ve done worse.
Bodies are scattered everywhere—some on the floor with bullet holes in the back of their heads, a few of them sitting in chairs with their throats slit open, while others are lying face down on the tables, swimming in a pool of their blood. The wall to my left has brain matter and blood splatter dripping down and bodies hunched over from where they must have been standing when this all went down. Shattered glass covers the bar floor, and alcohol is still dripping from the shelves.
What the fuck happened here? This is a mess. I want to meet the person who has the balls big enough to fuck with me. I see Andrei's mouth move to say something, and I wave my hand in his face to get his attention, then put my index finger to my mouth. We don't know if the person is still here. If they are, I don't want to ruin the chances of capturing them.
I nod to the left for him to explore that side while I go right. Seeing a bullet casing on the floor, I grab a napkin from the table and pick it up, putting it in my pocket for later and walking toward the office in the back. When I get to the hallway, I see more bodies lying on the floor. I also see a boot print in blood.
This needs to be cleaned up. I text Bobby to notify him of the situation and send a cleanup crew soon.
A noise coming from the entryway gets my attention. I walk to the front but see no one. I hear the whoosh of the bullet before feeling it. I shoot the person in both legs, forcing them to fall to their knees. The man doesn't cry out in pain, which means he’s used to being tortured.
Andrei comes running from wherever he was and looks at the man on the floor. Then I see the look in his eyes as they slide in the direction of my stomach. Reflexively my free hand goes to my stomach, and it comes back covered with blood.
“Are you all right?” he asks me in a calm tone. Being shot is nothing at this point for us; I'll patch this later. Dealing with this prick is my priority right now.
“Yes, I’ll take care of this later.”
Andrei nods and walks toward the man and removes his face mask. Grabbing a set of handcuffs from his back pocket, he ties the man’s hands behind his back. I kneel in front of him and look into his eyes.
“Who the fuck are you?”
He doesn’t answer me, and Andrei punches him in the face.
“He asked you a question.” Again, nothing from the man. He just spits blood onto the floor and smiles. My blood boils—time to let the lion out of its cage.
“Let’s see if you still find it funny when I’m done with you.” When I move up too fast, I get a little dizzy. Gathering myself, I turn to Andrei.
“Take him to the back.”
Andrei straps the mercenary to a metal bed we have here in the club for these sorts of interrogations. I walk up to him.
“Who sent you?”
He doesn’t say anything. I have a feeling he is going to be hard to break. Good thing I love a challenge.
“Last time I ask you nicely, who hired you?”
He laughs.
“You had the chance to talk the easy way. Now here comes my favorite part. The hard way.” I grab a serrated knife and stab his hand. He laughs.
“Is that all you can do?” he grunts.
“I’m just getting started.” Grabbing the knife's hilt, I drag it up to his arm. Blood oozes out, and I feel him flinch.
“Who sent you?”
He spits in my face. Grabbing my shirt, I whip it off.
