To Kill a Grey Man

by D C Stansfield

  Lastly he brought out a Sig 226, 9mm pistol from which he screwed on a custom made silencer. A powerful hand gun it held nineteen bullets in the magazine and he pushed another magazine through his belt. This gun he carried loosely in his left hand leaving his right hand free.

  Burdened down with weapons this little old man should have looked ridiculous but he had changed, no longer the family man, here was The Assassin and he looked poised, purposeful and completely in balance.

  Surge also reached into his bag. He took out a belt with six loops evenly spaced which he strapped on round his waist. Then he picked up a number of long steel throwing knives, these were just shaped lumps of metal, flat and heavy, sharpened to a razor edge at one end with a balancing lump of steel at the other. He placed each one carefully into the loops.

  Both men connected their mikes and tested they were working. Then from a small box The Grey Man had brought from the safe house, they put on monocular night display glasses. These were state of the art, fitting over the head with a long lens that fitted over one eye. Both Surge and The Assassin had practiced with this device or similar ones for years and they had become completely natural for them to use.

  Surge looked at each of them in turn nodded and then jogged off into the woods. The Grey Man got back into the car and fired up the computers. Thirty seconds later Collins reached across and patted Jonathan’s arm. Then The Assassin disappeared into the trees.

  The Grey Man let the computers start to boot up. He got out of the car and he and Jonathan grabbed the explosives from the boot. Locking the car, they both walked a few hundred yards across the forest to the edge of the green. The Grey Man primed each bomb and hid them under leaves and by various trees spread out over a wide distance. They both raced back to the car as quickly as The Grey Man could go.

  Surge did not need the night sight. The large spotlights lit up the building. As he watched he could see the lights close to his entry point start to dim throwing up more shadows to hide in. The Grey Man obviously had complete control and must also be rolling the tape. He moved swiftly, hugging the walls. As he got close to the security door he heard a click as the door latch opened automatically and The Grey Man’s voice sounded in his ear, “No one behind the door,” he said. “You can go in now but there are two at the top of the stairs.”

  He pushed open the door and crept inside. The hallway was dark and he flipped down the night sight. He now viewed the whole staircase in a green hue and as he looked to the top, two men had their backs to him and were chatting. They both had automatic weapons carelessly slung over their arms. Surge drew two knives and reversed them so the blades lay against his forearms and only the heavy weighted ends protruded through his fingers. “Are these two alone?” he whispered into his mike. “Completely,” came back the answer and Surge moved quickly but silently up the carpeted stairs.

  He struck one man in the side of the head near the temple, the other directly above the neck along the line of the spine connecting directly into the central nervous system. They both dropped heavily. Surge did his best to break their fall to minimize the noise. He then dragged and half carried them down the stairs to get them out of the way before checking how they were. One was obviously dead and the other was in a coma like state and would not be coming round for some time, if ever. As always, he felt no remorse. These men had hunted him and his friends. There was no mercy in the world they lived in.

  He carried on up the stairs now moving to the right. In his ear he heard The Grey Man say, “Careful, one man coming six seconds away.”

  Surge moved into an alcove. He flicked down the night sight, counted five until he could just hear the man and whispered, “Kill the lights”. As the man rounded the corner the hallway went pitch black. The man tried to bring his gun up and shout an alarm but Surge was beside him now and had pushed the knife fully into his throat finally snapping his neck. He pushed him under a small table. “Keep these lights off,” he said into the mike and then moved forward keeping his body flat against the wall angling again to the right.

  Outside The Assassin hugged the bushes until he came to the security door which had been darkened by The Grey Man. Getting the ‘all clear’ he moved in and up the staircase.

  The Grey Man’s voice came again in his ear, “Door to the left, three men in a guest bedroom covering the two windows. I have no control of the lights in that room.”

  The Assassin gently pushed the door open and slipped in quietly. The men were facing outwards looking across the long green lawn. He shot all three very quickly from the hip with the Sig, hardly appearing to aim. The noise was loud even with the silencer but the hotel was five star and the room walls were thick brick, lined and well insulated.

  He checked with The Grey Man that the hall was free and moved out to the left. Surge moved quietly but quickly. The Grey Man suddenly said, “Behind you, door to the left.” Surge spun round and his knife flashed as a large man came out of a room, the knife slid into his right eye socket and through to his brain. His hands shot up as if to pull the knife out but he fell back into the room, dead. Surge dragged him further into the room. So far, so good but their luck could not last.

  The Assassin understood as well that it was only a matter of time before either he or Surge was discovered. “Where are the main congregation of people?” he asked The Grey Man.

  “In a room downstairs there are at least fifteen of them. I assume this is the meeting room,” said The Grey Man.

  Collins asked for directions and then made his way carefully down until he was standing outside the door. He slipped the Sig into his belt and then drew the Uzi which he held in both hands. He counted to three, took a deep breath, feeling alive, age and time slipped away. He then kicked the door open and walked forward immediately taking in where everyone was and adjusted his aim accordingly.

  This was just like training in the killing house. After what seemed like an age he opened up. Some tried to run away, a few tried to bring their guns to bear but such is the speed and power of the Uzi that was designed to clear rooms and in the hands of a master, everyone died in seconds. The Assassin appeared to have control on every round as they scythed through the bodies, not one bullet missed. The Assassin dropped the clip and with one smooth motion reloaded and kept on firing. The noise echoed around the room and out the open door. On the other side of the hotel Surge heard it clearly. He stood up, walked into the centre of the hallway and filled his hands with the knives.

  “All hell will now break loose,” said The Assassin into the mike. “Let me know what you have.”

  Jonathan sat in the driver’s seat of the cold car. The Grey Man was peering at the laptop and talking to Surge and his dad on the microphone. There was nothing for Jonathan to do. It was almost pitch black outside and the wind whistled through the leaves moving the trees about. He quietly opened the door ensuring the interior light did not come on and made his way to a tree to relieve himself. After he had finished he stood perfectly still. He could just about see two men creeping through the undergrowth either side of the car. Fear hit him hard and a cold shiver went up his spine. He stood mesmerized, frozen to the spot wondering what to do, trying to remember all the lessons Surge had taught him. Finally as the man closest to him passed by, Jonathan bent down and picked up an old log. He ran across and crashed it down on his head with all his strength. There was a sickening sound of a skull breaking. At the same time the other man yanked open the passenger door and tried to bring his weapon to bear. A small hole appeared in the middle of his forehead as The Grey Man shot him with a pistol he had concealed under the laptop. The man crumpled to the grass in a heap.

  The Grey Man then got out of the car checked the body to ensure he was dead then walked to where Jonathan was standing. The man he had downed was now writhing in pain on the floor, blood spilling out of his cracked skull. The Grey Man immediately put two shots into him, head and heart, the noise echoing through the trees. “Drag these two into the bushes,” he calmly said
to Jonathan as he climbed back into the car and put his headphones on.

  “Sorry,” The Grey Man said to The Assassin. “A small problem, now fixed. You have two men outside the door to your left and a number coming your way both from the right and left.”

  “Let’s make some noise,” said The Assassin. The Grey Man hit the detonator and the explosives he and Jonathan had set went off with a terrific bang one after the other shaking the windows of the hotel. The Grey Man punched some buttons on the computer and then spoke into the microphone which went through the hotels PA system. “Everyone out,” he screamed. “There is army and police swarming through the gates!” His panicked voice bounced off each wall. He repeated his message, “Everyone out. Out!”

  He could see on his screen that some of the numbers going towards The Assassin were now moving in the opposite direction. Some were just stopped. Panic abounded.

  “I suggest now,” said The Assassin into his mike. “Lights!”

  All the lights went out including the emergency back-up. The hallways were pitch black. The Assassin flipped down his night sight and took the reloaded Uzi in one hand and the elephant pistol in the other. He calmly and silently walked out the door into the corridor. It was the last thing anyone expected. Once he was in the centre of the corridor he could see the shapes of the men waiting, all standing out in the green light. He opened up, the screaming buzz of the Uzi offset by the powerful booming of the elephant pistol. Every round appeared to find its mark, the Uzi cutting men in half and the elephant pistol punching through any scrap of cover and killing the man behind.

  By this time Surge had come up from the other side of the hotel running through the darkness using his night sight. Green men came and went and he was no less effective killing or breaking any in his path. The Grey Man continued to shout over the PA system, “Get out. Get out or you will be trapped.”

  It was mayhem and in seconds it turned into a rout with men discarding their weapons, jumping from windows, crashing through emergency exits or running out the back door.

  In between shouting on the PA, The Grey Man gave Surge and The Assassin a running commentary on what was happening and who was where, ensuring any that stayed behind were met by one or other of them and dealt with. They both moved from floor to floor clearing all in their way. Finally it was all over.

  The Surgeon and The Assassin met by the front staircase. They nodded to each other, their ears ringing from the gunshots. Surge spoke to The Grey Man, “What do you have?”

  “An almost empty hotel,” he said and all the lights came back on. “I only have two men moving. Both of them are in the glass room directly below you, John Sea and his Enforcer. Elsewhere in the building everything is static. The ones that have left are still running. If they stop and rally I will let you know.”

  The Assassin went over to a small table that had an ornate lamp on it. He took out the Sig and carefully laid it down with the Uzi. He then removed the Uzi holster and remaining magazines. He and Surge lay down their night sights. The Assassin reloaded the elephant pistol and slipped it into its shoulder holster, adjusting the fit of both that and the Glock. Surge replaced the knives in their sheaths but took one in his right hand. Then they both walked slowly down the stairs.

  John Sea was pacing nervously. He wore a waist holster and a powerful Smith and Wesson M7P.357 which sat in a new leather holster. He had practiced with it many times and he felt confident he could hit what he aimed for. On his desk were two big hard plastic suitcases and he constantly touched them each time he walked pass. Keith was much calmer, sitting in a large green leather upholstered chair dressed in a smart black suit. He had a shoulder holster on with a large Magnum research desert eagle which he had never fired and he only carried because John Sea wanted him to. They could both hear the bedlam going on, screams of pain and panic, the lights going on and off, the PA system with The Grey Man’s voice issuing warnings, explosions, automatic gun fire and the boom of the elephant pistol.

  Then silence. John Sea looked out of the corner of heavily draped windows and could see unarmed men running down the drive for all they were worth. He turned to his enforcer, “Go look and see what is happening. Then get back to me quickly.”

  The Enforcer walked over to the large sliding glass door, slid it back then crossed the dining room. He opened the door quietly and stepped carefully through but Surge had been warned by The Grey Man. Keith felt the punch coming and threw himself to one side rolling down the hall to come neatly to his feet. In front of him were The Assassin and the Surgeon. The Assassin’s guns were in his holsters and he stood calmly perfectly in balance. The Surgeon had a wicked looking throwing knife in his right hand cocked ready to throw.

  “You can leave him to me,” said Surge. The Assassin nodded and went through the open door.

  “Take your jacket off,” said Surge to The Enforcer, which he did. The huge Magnum desert eagle was now hanging at an odd angle due to the roll. “With the thumb and forefinger of your left hand carefully remove the gun and throw it down the corridor.” The Enforcer complied. Surge then undid his knife belt and he threw that and all his knives in the other direction.

  “I think you and I should settle this like men. Don’t you?” he said.

  The Enforcer smiled a big grin that took in his whole face. He took off his jacket and his gun holster and flexed his huge muscles. In front of him was a much smaller man, almost twice his age, he had to stop himself from laughing, this was what he lived for. “Oh, little man,” he said. “I am going to rip your head off and piss down your neck.”

  The Surgeon stepped into the centre of the room. He placed one leg slightly in front of the other with feet pointed at ten to two then bent his knees, both hands came up in front of him, the left extended slightly in front of the right, hands open, fingers curled. “Whenever you are ready,” he said.

  The Enforcer attacked. He threw some simple jabs to find range which Surge just moved his head to avoid. Then he went for a fast, big, left handed swing. Surge moved back to let it go by and then his right hand smashed into the back of The Enforcer’s fist, breaking two of the small bones there. The pain was incredible and The Enforcer jumped back, his right hand cradling his left, “Shit!” he cried.

  Surge calmly took his stance back up. The Enforcer rushed in with two simultaneous attacks, a right roundhouse kick to the leg and a right hand to the face.

  Surge brought up his left leg and as the kick came towards him, at full power and blinding speed he stamped down on The Enforcer’s kneecap. The power of the kick plus Surge’s stamp smashed the kneecap to pieces. He blocked the right hand punch to the face, stepped in, punched under the armpit to disrupt the lymphatic gland and continued the movement round so his elbow took out The Enforcer’s jaw. This spun The Enforcer so his body was wide and open so with his right hand, Surge power punched into his heart, stopping it dead. The Enforcer crashed to the ground dying.

  Surge looked down on the body of another man he had broken. He wondered how many he done this to. “Too many to count,” came the answer in his head.

  . . . . . . .

  John Sea watched as the little man came into the room. The light by the door was dim and it was difficult to see over such a distance but as he walked closer he appeared like a ghost, insubstantial until he became all too solid, dressed in black with both weapons holstered. Somehow he no longer looked old, he looked relaxed, confident and in control.

  “I have a deal for you,” said John Sea nervously. He walked slowly over to both suitcases. He lifted the lids so The Assassin could see what was inside. Both were filled with money. “There is five million pounds in each,” he said. “If you let me go I will wire you ten million more. I promise to disappear and you will never hear from me again. Do we have a deal?”

  The Assassin stopped ten feet away and like a voice from the grave said, “No.”

  John Sea looked at the little man who stood so still with his hands by his side. On his left hip was the Glock
, above that in the shoulder holster was the elephant pistol for a right hand draw. John Sea reasoned that the elephant pistol would be difficult to handle so you would control it with your natural hand, your strongest hand. Most people were right handed so it made sense that this assassin would be the same. The elephant pistol was massive, no way could it be drawn quickly, so the odds were these he reasoned; could this old man draw left handed or with his wrong hand the Glock, as quickly as John Sea could draw his weapon with his right hand? He doubted it. He had practiced with the Smith and Wesson over and over. It was lightweight and easy to draw, surely this would be no contest.

  However, any time now The Enforcer would be coming back and that would leave The Assassin in the middle.