Brett Battles - The Destroyed

He had to get to her.

He started to run.

“I believe your instructions stated that you were to go to Planet Hollywood,” the tall one said. “This isn’t Planet Hollywood.”

Mila kept her mouth shut.

As the man reached under his suit jacket, she could see a gun in the holster under his arm, but instead of grabbing it, he pulled out a small box from his pocket. “I can understand your reluctance, especially since you seem to have realized what was waiting for you.” He opened the box. Inside was a ring. He pulled it out and slipped it on his left index finger. “I am curious, though, how did you find out? It wasn’t until you arrived here, was it? Otherwise you would have never come.”

He looked at her, waiting, but again she said nothing.

“I’m guessing it was your friend who was down here with you. The one who got into a fight with my colleague here? He didn’t win, by the way. He’s the one who warned you, isn’t he?”

Julien. Oh, God. Is he…is he…

“Or was it the one in the car that picked you up at the airport? I know they weren’t the same person. The one who lost the fight had been following Conner from the airport.” As he gestured to the man behind him, she noticed that something was sticking out of the bottom of the ring that looked very much like a needle. “Your friend thought he was being very tricky and that Conner didn’t see him. Fortunately for us, that wasn’t the case.”

She wanted to yell. She wanted to kick this guy in the balls. She wanted to rip his tongue out and shove it down his throat. But she stayed where she was and kept her mouth shut.

“How did your contacts know what was going to happen to you? The people who hired me are going to be very curious. So perhaps you’d like to just tell me and make everything easy.”

Just get it over with, you son of a bitch, she thought.

He crouched down so that he was almost level with her. “Mila, you have tangled with a very powerful man. I have no idea what it is you did, and I don’t care. I only know that the client wants you dead, and it’s my job to carry out that sentence. I can do it quick and easy.” He held up his hand and flashed the needle attached to the inside of the ring. “You’ll only feel a pinch, nothing more. One second you’re here, and the next…well, who knows? I can also make it painful and long.” He patted the lump under his jacket where his gun was. “Is that how you want to leave this world? I wouldn’t think so.” He smiled. “Just tell me how your friends found out. You do that, and you’ll move painlessly to the other side.”

Across the room, the doorknob started to turn. Mila did everything she could to keep any reaction off her face.

“You…you were right,” she blurted out, wanting to fill the room with noise. “I…I didn’t know before I got here. I thought this was just a regular run.”

The assassin smiled. “Of course you did.”

The knob stopped.

“The man who was down here with me. I don’t know him. He’s not the one who told me.”

The door moved inward a fraction of an inch.

“Who was it, then?”

“The man who picked me up at the airport. The driver.”

“And who is he?”

She leaned forward slightly, tensing the muscles in her legs. “Someone I’ve worked with before. A…a friend.”

“A name, Mila.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the door clear the frame. This was her only chance.

“Not in this life, asshole!” she yelled as she launched herself at the assassin.

She grabbed the wrist of the hand wearing the ring a split second before her shoulder slammed into his chest. He fell back onto the floor with her on top. With all her strength, she pinned the wrist down with one hand and went for his gun with the other, but he was already pulling the pistol out. She latched on to the barrel and pointed it away from her, then slipped her hand down over his as the assassin pulled the trigger.

The bullet ricocheted off the wall into the floor less than a foot away from her leg.

“Let go of me, bitch!”

He tried to push her off, but she shoved him back to the floor. She knew she wouldn’t be able to keep him down much longer. Though she was strong for her size, he was stronger.

She glanced toward the front of the room. Julien stood just inside, one arm wrapped around the other man’s neck, the other around the man’s torso. He leaned backward, lifting the spotter into the air so the guy’s feet were dangling. The man twisted and turned, trying to break free as he struggled to breathe.

The assassin pushed her again.

This time she tumbled off, but was able to keep her hand on the gun.

The assassin grinned as he whipped his other hand around, palm open. She could see the needle coming straight at her, so she slapped his arm away, and rolled to the side. The move, she immediately realized, both saved her and condemned her to death as she lost her grip on the gun.

“Long and painful, then,” the assassin said as he rose to his feet.

The man in Julien’s arms continued to squirm, moving just enough to get gasps of air here and there and remain conscious. Julien tried to squeeze harder, but his bulk prevented him from completely sealing his arm against the man’s neck, and causing the bastard to pass out.

In the middle of the room, the other man pushed Mila to the side and tried to slap his other hand against her. Mila rolled out of the way, letting go of the gun.

There was no question what would happen next. The man was going to shoot her.

“Long and painful, then,” the assassin said.

Still holding the spotter by the neck, Julien whipped the man’s legs around and smacked them into the back of the gunman’s head. He then tossed the guy at the assassin, and smashed into both of them, bringing them to the ground.

His first instinct was to grab the gun. What he got instead was the assassin’s wrist. He slammed the man’s hand against the floor over and over, trying to free the weapon.

“Julien! Watch out for the ring!” Mila called out.

The ring?

He almost reacted too late as the assassin’s other hand arced toward him. At the last second he saw the needle and pushed the hand to his left, unintentionally guiding it into the spotter’s shoulder.

The spotter gasped in surprise, then began to spasm before going limp.

The assassin tried to pull the gun free from Julien, but he lost his grip and it skittered across the floor away from both of them. He brought his ringed hand back, obviously trying once more to stick Julien.

Boom!

The top half of the assassin’s hand blew apart, the ring gone.

He fell back, clutching his damaged hand to his chest and groaning in pain.

Julien twisted around and saw Mila standing a few feet away, holding the pistol. He pushed himself to his feet.

“Sorry,” he told her. “I was delayed.”

“You’re here. That’s all that matters.”

“We need to go.”

Mila didn’t move.

“Someone might have heard the gunshot,” he said.

“They’d have been here by now.”

The assassin looked at her, trying to control the pain on his face. “We’ll just keep coming after you,” he said, forcing the words through clenched teeth. “You might as well give up now, because I will find you.” As he took a deep breath, he glanced at Julien then back at her. “I’ll tell you what. Our instructions were to avoid any extra bodies. You give yourself up; your friend gets a pass. How about it?”

Julien knew Quinn’s plan was no longer viable. How could they fake her death now? The man who’d been sent to kill her knew the truth, and soon those who ordered the termination would know, too. The best they’d be able to do was knock the guy out, lock him up here, then get the hell out of Vegas.