46. Enemy Contact
Enemy Contact
The bullets zipped by unrepentantly. Destroying everything in its path like rampaging elephants.
Jerry had fallen as the first shots rang out and scrambled to a nearby statue; he became a pangolin, wrapped in his own arms as the cover whittled away piece by piece.
The talented musician, who so gracefully stood with a violin in hand, was quickly dismembered while a haunting melody played in the distance.
“Help!” Jerry shouted. He had dropped his weapon by Spider when he fell and never picked it up again.
I raced to help him, but stopped dead in my tracks when a round ricocheted into the wall next to me.
Spider hadn’t moved from the get-go. He had his eyes closed, but his lips kept moving; he was counting. “Ah!”
“Twenty-Nine, and thirty,” Spider said, opening his eyes.
Suddenly, he peeked around the corner, took aim and fired four shots in quick succession before returning to cover.
Then it became silent again. The toxic gunpowder fumes singed my nose as I rushed to Jerry.
All the back windows had been blown out, the marble wall destroyed, statues desecrated, and countless spent shell casings lingered on the ground like leaves in the fall.
There were three bodies at the end of the hall, from what I could see; none were moving.
Spider, Belle, and Professor went over to secure the hallway that led to the elevators.
“Hey! Are you alright?” I said to Jerry. He was shaken, pale-faced, but still breathing. He didn’t reply to me outright, just shook his head like a young child who’s been grounded for a month. “We need to move.”
I handed Jerry his rifle and helped him to his feet. He dusted off some of the statue debris he was covered with and followed me to the rest of the group.
“You look pale? Sure, you’re fine?” Spider said with a grin.
“It’s the statue. I’m fine,” Jerry replied as he glanced down. Spider let out a hoarse laugh and punched him in the chest.
“Let’s go then,” Spider said, and off he went.
I followed closely behind into the only open elevator at the end of the hallway.
The others weren’t working. They had been turned off or sabotaged somehow.
The one we entered had the emergency button flashing and the emergency lights on overhead. “How do we get this to work now?”
I reached and pressed the button labeled twelve. Nothing happened.
“Pull that,” Belle said, pointing to the emergency stop.
Spider went and yanked the emergency button before pushing it back in.
Suddenly, all the normal lights switched on and the doors closed expeditiously.
In moments, we were moving up and closer to the drive.
Belle quickly pulled out her phone and saw that the data hadn’t stopped spiking since we entered the building.
It had gotten worse. Spider backed into me and pushed me into the corner before raising his rifle at the door.
Professor did the same, and Belle kneeled down by the control panel; she was to cover the left flank.
Seconds later, the elevator came to a stop, and the doors parted gently, revealing a majestically decorated penthouse foyer.
A fountain graced its center. And marble floors danced with limestone statues down its halls, whilst the windows, draped in silk, melted away when the wind swept.
But we weren’t alone. No, as soon as we exited the elevator, we came upon a dozen men, heavily armed, and equally flamboyant as the decorations.
The peacocks, enraged, quickly raised their weapons and attacked us.
Our team melted away into cover like a wicker chair on hot lava.
We disappeared from the halls in seconds.
Belle returned fire, even as I pulled her to safety.
Spider returned fire as he went. Jerry squeezed off a few rounds and hit an open window.
It was chaos. The enemy had fully automatic, military-grade weapons.
And they used them to their full potential.
The cacophony of fire was endless. Under this hailstorm of death, I returned fire and hit one in the leg.
At that moment, another Bateleur clan member peered around a wall with a light machine gun.
A high-caliber, high rate of fire weapon designed to mow down its enemies.
It was horrendous. The weapon cut cleanly through stone blocks, walls, and wood with ease.
Like a sharp knife, it sliced my cover in half and sent the half-naked statue tumbling to the ground.
“I can use some help here!” I yelled. But my voice was drowned out by the buzzing harmony of fire.
I was trapped behind what was left of the stump of a statue.
Isolated and alone. My heart pounded harder and harder until I could feel the very thud hit my ears.
My anxiety was the one winning this fight.
And then I noticed the most peculiar thing.
Spider smiling at me and holding onto something.
It looked like a bag or maybe a box. Wrapped with an odd red sash, lopsided and crude, he pointed to me and mouthed, boom.
That’s when I realized it was Widow’s doing.
And what was to come. My heart raced faster, and my throat quickly dried.
“Special delivery!” Spider quipped and tossed the box at the Bateleur men across the hall. The box bounced and tumbled their way, stumbled past the makeshift cover, and stopped short of the penthouse suite. One of them was dumb enough to grab it.
“Stop! Don’t!” his pal yelled. But it was too late. Widow, watching from afar, pressed the receiver, and off it went. A concussive shockwave left me reeling and my ears ringing. It was much stronger than the first blast when we arrived.
“Move!” Belle ordered as the dust settled.
No one survived the blast. Belle was the first to reach the charred corpses.
I was second. The aroma of burnt lard came to mind as I passed.
That and the heavy taste of metal. I could savor it in my mouth as we approached the door.
The sign had fallen in the blast, but we could still make out the word ‘suite’ on it.
“Oh, man. How many explosives did you use?” I said.
“All of it,” Widow replied with a crooked smile.
“Focus people. This is it,” Jerry said with anticipation.
“We need to stop the data transfer once inside,” Professor said, reloading his weapon.
“There might be more inside, so look alive,” Spider ordered. He went to the front, as normal, and grabbed the handle. “Ah! Shit!”
Spider grunted and groaned as he rubbed the hand across his pants.
“What happened?” I said. I glanced down at his hand and saw that redness had overtaken it.
“The explosion. It’s too hot,” Spider replied, backing away from the door. Suddenly, he rushed forward and rammed through the door with his shoulder.
I chased him inside this time. There was no hesitation on my part, nor from anyone else on the team.
But something was off when we entered. It was quiet.
And dark. The living room was empty, and all we could see on the other side was part of a window and a section of a bar.
Some liquor bottles were stacked behind it on a case, and a single television was on in the next room.
“Secure the suite and rendezvous back here in five,” Spider said and headed straight for the bar. I followed closely behind. The others went to clear the remaining rooms. And that’s when we saw Amir. Dangling from the window like a lemur, angry as can be.