Ajax: Relinquished

by Gavin Magson

  “Well then you had better keep him alive until we stop moving, there have to be another forty floors left yet. The poor bastard is bleeding out quick.” said Rex.

  Miles and Rex stood apart from Ajax, watching him fashion a tourniquet from strips of clothing, some shoelaces, and chunks of boot soles that he clumsily cut through with his knife. They were loath to do so but both men had to admit he had improvised well to stop the man's deep leg wound bleeding out. Ajax squatted next to the injured man and pressed down on the laceration that came close to disembowelled him, trying to stem the bleeding and keep his organs in place.

  Ajax had indeed stopped the man being able to talk, as the blood flow slowed a few sounds escaped his throat but no words. He looked into the man's contorted, petrified face and could not help but feel a little remorse at his actions. The man, whether he knew it or not, was dying; nothing could stop that now, probably not even all the nano machines coursing through Ajax's body. It was a miracle that the blood loss had not sent him into shock, Ajax had no idea how the man could remain conscious for this long. On closer inspection he found that the man was barely an adult, no hair yet grew on his chin, nor would it ever.

  Ajax checked the elevators progress and was relieved they had only a few floors left for this elevator. The building had not looked as tall as the skyscraper he and Steiner had ended up scaling all those months ago, perhaps there would only be two short elevator rides up to the top?

  Ajax had let his concentration drop, his hands slipped on the slick blood, causing him to pitch left and clash his head against the elevators walls. Miles and Rex could not contain themselves from laughing as the man cursed loudly. He picked himself back up and tried to return pressure to the dying man's wounds.

  He was about to express his views on their laughter when the elevator lurched to a halt, worn brakes squealing on contact with warped metal; if the men knew the elevators state of disrepair they would be far more worried about making it to the towers peak. The doors slowly slid open.

  Guns filled their vision, numerous barrels were pointed through the door at the occupants. Miles had been wrong about the gang members favouring handguns, a wide variety made up the arsenal aimed inches from his face. Ajax couldn't focus on how many men were outside in the corridor, he just did his best to play the part well.

  “Help, he's dying.” were the only words he could think of.

  Someone muttered a name, the man Ajax was struggling to keep alive? Two guns lowered as men pushed through their comrades, kneeling besides the injured man and trying not to show the terror his wounds invoked. Ajax stopped looking outside, knowing that the scene of blood and excrement was their only defence against being blown away. One by one the remaining guns lowered.

  “What happened here?” asked a tall man, scars both old and new criss-crossed his exposed arms and face like a spiders web.

  “We were ambushed, out on the bridge. Couple of mercenaries attacked and we managed to kill them, then we ran for the skyscraper. The trucks are gone, the mercs were right behind us when we got to the elevators. It's just us four left.” said Rex. If they made it out of this mess alive Ajax would have to congratulate him on such a convincing performance.

  “Take him down the hall, we'll clear a table and try to stop the bleeding. Does anyone have some med-packs?” the man asked out loud.

  Ajax moved out of the way as hands lifted the injured man, carrying his limp body off down the corridor. The squad picked up their weapons and followed, a group of eight men leading the way. He was covered head to foot in blood, there was barely a patch of skin or cloth that had not been sprayed with the crimson liquid. I must look terrifying to these men, thought Ajax, a harbinger of death walking among them.

  Behind him Miles and Rex looked little better, most of the blood and dirt on them was drying after a stint in the warm elevators and now matted their hair. At least they were out of the cold, even if they had landed in the frying pan. Miles watched Ajax carefully, unsure if he would draw his gun once again and try to take down these men. He had noticed as the elevator arrived that they had stopped three floors short of the towers top, hopefully that is where they would find Malik.

  Death was the only thing on Ajax's mind at the moment, he was concerned with how long the man they had called Nathaniel would live; he was the only thing distracting these men's attentions and keeping the squad safe from harm. The thought crossed his mind that he had left the man with wounds that would cause incredible pain; Ajax was torn as to whether he should hope the man lived on for a while or died swiftly. Two men ran ahead to make space in a room for the injured Nathaniel, both kicked the door down when a turn of the handle did not open it.

  Ajax helped the gang members lower their man onto a cleared table, someone had returned with old bedding that could be fashioned into bandages. These men obviously cared for their own, a commendable gesture and a surprising one after the stories he had heard. Ajax was satisfied by how distracted they were and knew it was time for the squad to move on in their hunt for the big catch.

  “We had best go up and see Malik, he needs to know about the threat before the mercenaries have time to reach us. Some of you need to watch the elevators and stairwells just in case they make it this far.” Ajax instructed.

  A quick debate between the eight gang members soon saw six leave the room to guard against the false threat, leaving two and the squad. Ajax left the room and his men followed, they headed down the corridor towards a staircase, following a pair of gang members. As they reached the start of the stairs one of the men turned to Ajax.

  “Malik should be in his office, top floor. If not have a look in the factory, he might still be organising the dismantlement of his equipment. Just be careful, he's already pissed off and will only be furious when you tell him about the attack. Make sure he knows to turn off power to the elevators and to send us reinforcements.”

  Ajax thanked the man for the warning and started climbing the stairs, Miles and Rex in tow. On the next floor they checked along the corridor for more guards and were surprised that the coast was clear. Rex was about to resume the ascent when Ajax spoke, the other two halting in their stride.

  “We might not have long until the men below noticed that all five deaths were by knife wounds. We will have to deal with them when we are done with Malik; no doubt by then they will be alerted. If anyone looks close to firing on us make sure you kill them first, eventually we will have to start killing and won't have a dozen floors to buffer the noise. It's best if we can prolong the lack of retaliation as long as possible.”

  Above them the men could hear the dull rumbling of heavy machinery, Rex was sure he could even feel faint vibrations running down the walls and underfoot. Ajax headed past the contemplating man, one hand hovering just above his holstered pistol, ready for any assault to come.

  The steps were covered in a threadbare carpet that had dried mud deeply ingrained from hundreds of overlapping footprints, so much so that none of the men could tell its original colour. Ajax noticed the deep gouges that had torn through the carpet and scored concrete below, he suspected the cause could be the large equipment that was loaded on the vehicles outside. The only way to get them out would be to drag them down from the skyscrapers peak to an elevator, not made any easier that even stripped down to their component parts everything was cumbersome and heavy.

  When the squad finished their climb they stepped out onto a corridor teaming with activity and gang members. Men were carrying pipes and crates between them, heading to pass Ajax and descend the stairs. A lot of eyes were focused on their horrifying appearances, yet not one man stopped them. This Ajax had not expected, which made him think that theirs was not an uncommon sight to these men.

  Miles strode past him, heading directly for the hive of activity in the corridors centre where two heavies stood guard. As they approached one of the gargantuan men held out a meaty arm to block his passage, a sneer spreading across the man's broad face.

  “Wher
e are you guys heading?” asked the thug, seemingly oblivious to the blood splattered state of Miles.

  “We are under attack by the mercenaries, I need to see Malik and warn him about what we have seen. Do you want to break the news to him, I've heard how angry he is. Plus the trucks outside have left.”

  There was a long pause as a slow thought process fired in the man's mind, traversing his grey matter as swiftly as an iceberg crossing the ocean. Miles held his breath, he knew that he was so close and this man was possibly the last thing that stood between himself and Malik.

  “Just you, leave all your weapons here; Malik's orders. He's in his office, through the factory and to your left.”

  Miles tried not to show any hesitancy as he handed a rifle, handgun, and knife over to Rex, safe in the knowledge that he kept a blade spare. The thug patted him down nonetheless, his work sloppy and careless as Miles could think of at least four places he would be able to hide a weapon from the clumsy search. The door was opened for him and he stepped through into the rapidly disappearing factory.

  The room was huge, walls had been knocked through to extend the work space and holes cut into the external walls, presumably for ventilation, creating a giant work space. Miles had to sidestep four men pushing a clear cabinet full of multi-coloured powders, their urgency enough to clear the way of traffic. He passed three bare wooden tables to stand in front of the only surviving door in the room, by elimination it had to be the office he was looking for. With the room now open to the weather he shivered as cold air whipped all around him, kicking up dust and loose papers in its wake.

  Despite the purpose of his mission Miles knocked twice and waited impatiently, before a voice beckoned him inside after a long pause. He pushed the door open, making sure as he closed it behind to memorise where the lock was. A squat man sat at a desk and swivelled his chair to face Miles. When the man laid eyes on Miles they flared wide in shock.

  “What the fuck happened to you?” asked Malik.

  “We were attacked on the bridge by mercenaries, the trucks are gone and we've lost all the men from the ground floor.”

  “Shit. This is all I need today, we've lost enough men as it is. I need to talk with James.” Malik pulled himself out of the chair with a grunt. Miles noted that many years had passed since the last photograph of the man had been taken. The man before him was past his prime, squat yet still powerfully built, grey hair replaced most of what had once been black.

  He saw his opportunity, as Malik passed him for the door he flipped the catch on his belt buckle that released a small blade. Gripping it tightly he aimed to bring the blade around Malik's neck from behind, severing his attachment to the mortal world.

  A hand gripped his wrist millimetres from the blades point piercing skin, he was so surprised by the sudden movement that he could not stop Malik from spinning with his wrist still gripped. Miles twisted in the air and landed heavily on the floor, air gushed from his lungs as he reeled from the blow.

  Malik tried to follow up the throw with a savage kick to the ribs, Miles just managed to negate the boot with his forearms, yet still grimaced and howled out in pain. The force caused him to roll backwards, he struggled to stand up before Malik could follow his assault with another attack. The knife had been knocked out of Miles' hands in the attack, he had to focus on makeshift weapons or a bare fist kill; the blade was nowhere in sight.

  Miles feinted left and hammered a closed fist under Malik's defence, into his gut. The man staggered and exposed his chin, dropping his guard for a second. A savage uppercut rocked Malik on his feet but the man still did not go down, he kicked out to boot his attacker on the shin. Miles fell to one knee and spun away as Malik charged, dodging a wild lunge. The man turned swiftly and moved forward to try again.

  Miles dove up and forwards, driving a shoulder into Malik whilst wrapping his arms around the shorter man. Veins throbbed in Miles' arms and forehead as he lifted Malik, straining against the struggling man. He managed to flip Malik over his head and drive him into the floor skull first; the sickening noise far too pleasing on the ears.

  Miles could hear raised voices from outside, the ruckus had not gone unnoticed. He left the groaning Malik where he lay and rushed back to the door, locking it against any unwanted attention. When he turned back Malik was struggling back to his feet, only to be lifted from them as Miles landed a thunderous kick to his chest.

  Beyond the door Miles could hear ragged gunfire, followed by a much closer reply. None of the bullets hit the office door, whatever was happening outside had not yet reached him. He aimed another kick at Malik, which was stopped just short of its destination as the short drug lord caught his foot.

  Malik showed his prodigious strength as he stood up from the floor, still gripping Miles' ankle as the mercenary hopped backwards. There was only one thing Miles could do. With his free leg Miles leapt up and spun his body, his boot caught Malik on the jaw and he heard bone give way with a sickening crunch.

  Ajax and Rex were unconsciously listening out for some kind of sign that Miles had been successful, both leant against the opposite wall looking past the two guards on duty. Four men were trying to carry a cabinet out of the door when it jammed with enough force to crack the plaster surrounding the door frame. Rex moved forward and Ajax’s hand darted out to stop the man offering his help; they needed to do their best not to draw attention to their faces.

  More stuff was carried out of the factory, Ajax could see that little was left inside the expansive room for the gang members to clear out; he was worried they would soon be unoccupied and their minds left to wander. Ajax felt a vibration in his trousers and started to pat down the horrible orange ensemble until he found his tablet. His mood instantly lifted, it was a message from Ilya.

  Ajax, the union has been moved ahead of schedule and is in 4 days. I know that it is short notice but I'll need you back ASAP for your suit fitting; how soon can you make it? I hope everything is going well in the slums, Henry keeps on getting reports about the fighting going on down there. No doubt you’re to blame for most of it – Ilya

  It was great to finally hear off the woman, yet Ajax could not help but feel the message didn't sound like her own words. He was unsure if that was his paranoia working away or if there was something to be read into the short message. Only four days, why did it have to be so soon? He stowed the tablet back in his pocket, his reply would have to wait until he was done here. Before he could look up a figure overshadowed him, a brutish giant stood staring down at Ajax's hands.

  “Where did you find a tablet?” asked the man.

  “It was on one of those mercs, I thought it could be worth some money when all this is over.” said Ajax, trying to keep his voice steady.

  After a short pause the man spoke again. “Which streets were you in charge of distribution on?”

  Oh fuck! Ajax drew the blade, his hands moved too fast for the giant to block as it ripped into his groin then straight up, stopping only as the point pierced the man's heart. Ajax had hoped that the dying man would do so in relative silence, unfortunately luck was not on his side this time. A howling scream pierced the air, travelling past the grunting labourers that littered the corridor in each direction. The sound was only cut off as the knife sliced open the man's heart.

  Rex was already up to speed, he drew his handgun and started pumping the second guard full of rounds. Men either side of the corridor dropped their cargo and turned to the source of noise, some already darting towards their weapons stored nearby. Ajax and Rex did not hesitate in dashing through to the factory room, both decorating the walls with blood from its sole occupant.

  Ajax and Rex crouched behind two solid benches and drew their rifles, training the muzzles on the doorway. Ajax kept his eyes focused for any attack as he reached into each pocket of his jacket and methodically removed several magazines, lining them up next to his knee.

  “To be honest I am surprised we made it this far. What the fuck is keeping Miles?” asked Ajax.r />
  His answer came as the crash of broken glass filtered through the office door. Rex moved towards it at a crouch, his rifle held in one hand as he tried the handle. Ajax heard rushing footsteps and called out to the man, who was back in position before Ajax could blink.

  Ajax let out a short burst of gunfire that felled the first three men through the door, their bodies cut down mid stride. As the last bullet casing tinkled on the floor he heard whispered conversation, the topic obvious to him. Ajax turned his head to listen more carefully, attempting to gauge where the voices owner was stood.

  His gun bucked again as Ajax squeezed the trigger, punching holes through the wall that sprayed the corridor with debris. Numerous men shouted in shock as his bullets found home and another body slithered to the floor. Ajax changed clip without taking his eye off the doorway, waiting for the next move from the men outside. He heard Rex shuffling closer, still under cover of his bench.

  “What exactly is the plan for us to escape when Malik is dead?” whispered Rex.

  “I'll tell you when I have thought of it. Right now the plan is to shoot our way out, if that fails then we die, simple and straightforward.”

  He turned to grin at the man and saw the stunned look on his face; how could he not know that their escape would be entirely improvised? A brief lull in the gunfire had Ajax peeking above the desk to see what was happening. A hand reached around the door, releasing whatever the owner grasped and disappeared fast; Ajax watched on as the grenade flew past overhead.

  Rex caught a shoulder around the midriff as Ajax dove to clear the man out of the way. The explosion was deafening, a brief roar followed by silence as half the room was turned into shrapnel. When Rex's senses came back to him he could once again hear gunfire, this time Ajax was advancing towards the door, pumping rounds into bodies either side of it.