by Ammar Habib
“You’re quite the early bird.”
“Maybe you just sleep in too much.”
Ethan laughed again. “Yeah, maybe. So I’ll come by your house at 10:30 then.”
“Perfect. See you Saturday, Ethan.”
The line went dead, but Katrina waited several moments before setting down the phone. Her heart was bursting with excitement. She stared at the cover of her novel for an eternity, but her mind was flying far from this place.
***
On the other side of town, as Ethan lay on the bed, he knew that there would be no happy ending. This quest would either kill his body or it would kill his mind. The worst part was that it would kill Katrina’s heart.
But he still could not give her up.
Ethan knew what tomorrow held. Anthony would have his lieutenant, Victor, start to interrogate the editor by late morning. Tonight, he would be interrogating the two women Ethan had saved in the alley. Of course, they did not know anything and for their ignorance, they would be butchered. But Ethan could care less about them. He would not have even bothered saving them had they not been in the way. They should have known better than to tell their story to the press, but were interested in making a quick buck and having a few moments of fame. Ethan finally sat up. He stared at his reflection in the mirror. He was tired and exhausted and would still be tomorrow. But he needed to keep his promise to William.
He also needed to rest. Victor was an experienced man having served years as a private assassin and interrogator. He was one of the best in the world and would be expecting Ethan to attempt a rescue.
Ethan would go back to the warehouse early morning to prepare. Clean up his suit and sharpen his knives.
Then, Ethan would discover just how good Victor really was.
Chapter 18
Collateral Damage
It was getting late. William gently knocked on the door of the guest bedroom as he stood in the well illuminated and almost bare hallway. The only decoration was a framed blue and gold medal and certificate that hung from the wall. William had received that award only two months before he left the military and married his wife.
After knocking, he only had to wait a few moments before Susie opened up the door. Behind her, in the corner of the room, was a child’s crib that had never been used. In the crib was an assortment of untouched stuffed animals.
She smiled upon seeing him and he returned the gesture. “I just wanted to let you know that I’m going to bed. If you need anything, I’m just down the hall.” As he spoke, William motioned down to where his room was.
“Ok. Thanks again for letting me stay.”
William waved away the thanks. “It’s no problem. If you get hungry, there’s plenty of food in the fridge. Just help yourself.”
Susie let out a laugh. “I probably won’t need anything.”
He turned around to leave, but her voice stopped him.
“Will, I couldn’t help but notice that this room was set up like a nursery.”
The reporter turned around. There was a sullen look on his face. “My wife was expecting when she died. The room was already set up. I guess I never had the heart to tear it down.”
Susie’s eyes widened. “…oh…I’m sorry…”
“It’s alright. You get over it after a while I guess. Either that or…or you get used to the pain.”
***
The air was freezing.
Carl’s eyes quickly moved from side to side as he tried to get a feel for his surroundings. He was surrounded by darkness. Seated on a cold, metallic chair, he tried to move his arms and legs, but couldn’t. His wrists and ankles were tightly bound to the chair which was nailed to the concrete floor. He knew that he was in some sort of large room, probably somewhere where no one would be able to find him. A single overhead light directly above him was the only illumination for the massive room. It lit the area directly surrounding him, but other than that, the room was completely dark.
A few feet away sat a silver, metallic table. Covering its surface were countless knives, scalpels, tongs, and various other instruments of torture. Carl helplessly shivered as he looked at them.
He thought he could hear some slow dripping water faintly in the distance, but knew that this might only be his imagination. He had been sitting here for nearly an hour and was mentally exhausted. He wanted nothing more than to sleep, but his fear would not allow it.
Spending the night at the police station was never a good way to pass time. The detective had not let him sleep, endlessly questioning him. Many times, Carl was on the verge of giving up William’s name. But he never caved.
***
Outside the building, two men in dressed in leather jackets stood right beside the building’s entrance. The sun was high and the sky was cloudless. The entire road was completely barren of any sign of life.
Each guard held an automatic handgun. They had both been standing here for hours and were sure that nobody was going to be coming anytime soon to rescue this editor, but they weren’t about to abandon their post.
One of the guards looked away from his watch and tapped his foot impatiently against the ground. After a few seconds, he turned to say something to his counterpart. But before he could open his mouth, something from above caught his attention.
A hooded attacker came crashing down onto them.
***
Back inside the dark room, the sound of a heavy door opening and screeching across the floor suddenly filled the air. Soon, Carl heard the door being closed in the same manner. Heavy footsteps slowly became louder as the intruder came near. Carl’s body began to tremble more and more and his eyes were fixed in the direction of the sound.
He could see the outline of the figure in the darkness, but not his face. Within a few seconds, the intruder walked into the light and Carl’s fearful eyes could see him as clear as day.
He was a well-built Hispanic man. He looked like somebody you would not want as an enemy. A buttoned up trench coat hung around his broad shoulders and completely covered his body. His face was cleanly shaven, except for a thin mustache. He wore a wicked smile as his devilish eyes looked upon his victim.
The room was silent for what seemed like a long time. Carl couldn’t control his shivering and his eyes were locked on the face of his new captor. He did not recognize this man, but his mere presence had a chilling effect that could strike fear into anyone.
Finally, the captor looked away from Carl and down at the instruments on the table. “Detective Thompson tells me you won’t talk.”
Carl silently watched his captor move closer to the table and pick up one of the scalpels.
The captor examined the instrument. “Says he tried almost everything he could think of. Everything he was allowed to do to you.” He set the blade down and looked back at Carl with a sinister smirk. “And now it’s my turn.”
“P―please, don’t do this. I―I don’t know anything. I swear.”
“Well, I guess we’ll find out soon enough.” He moved closer to Carl until he was right in front of him. The captor leaned his head closer until his face was only inches away. “Mr. Carl, let me give you some advice. If you know anything it would be less painful for you to tell me upfront.” The captor pulled his head back and turned around. “Otherwise, you’ll end up like this.” He snapped his fingers, and another lamp suddenly lit up.
Under it was the most gruesome sight Carl had ever seen. No murder scene had even come close. Under the light, was the dead body of a woman strapped to a chair similar to the one Carl was in right now. A pool of blood surrounded the chair and completely covered it.
***
In the hallway, a guard dressed in a light green jacket slowly marched down the half-illuminated corridor as he carried an automatic weapon. He was half looking forward to getting a chance to use it if the masked killer did indeed show up here. The other half of him was hoping that the hooded man would take the day off. If what they were saying about him was true, then how could anyb
ody take him down?
As he marched down the hallway, the sentinel did not sense the intruder who dropped from the high ceiling and soundlessly landed crouched down on the floor a few yards from the guard. Ethan came to his feet slowly and began to follow the guard. His footsteps were completely silent. With his bloodied dagger in his right hand, Ethan slowly closed the gap between him and the guard.
The sentry was still completely unaware of his to-be-killer’s presence as Ethan came within arm’s reach of the thug. Suddenly, Ethan reached out and roughly put his gloved hand over the man’s mouth. The guard’s eyes widened as he realized what was happening. Before he had a chance to react, Ethan pulled him back and the blade of his dagger went straight through the man’s back and through his heart.
Ethan kept his dagger rooted into the man’s back and his hand over the man’s face for a few long seconds. Finally, he was sure that life had left the thug. He yanked out the dagger and laid the corpse on the floor. Some of the blood leaking out of the man’s gash stained Ethan’s cape.
But he did not care. He only wanted to save the editor.
***
Carl could not believe the extent of mutilation that lay before his very eyes. This had to be a nightmare. For a long time, Carl’s eyes could not leave the body no matter how hard he tried to look away. The captor looked at the body for only a few seconds before looking to see the expression on Carl’s face. A long time passed before the silence was broken.
With a chuckle, the captor snapped his fingers and the body became surrounded by darkness again. But the image was seared into Carl’s brain and he still faced the direction of where the body had been visible just moments ago.
The captor took a few steps towards Carl. “All of that happened before she died.” He began to walk circles around his victim. “Can you imagine the pain? Can you imagine how much she begged for mercy? Of course you can’t. You can only know that by experiencing it.” Making a full circle, the captor stopped at the table. He picked up the scalpel once more, but this time he did not put it down. He turned around, blade in hand, and began to make his way towards Carl. “Now, that was not my best work. I was in a rush with her. You were on your way so I only had a few hours. But with you…with you I have all the time in the world. The only question is, how painful do you want to make it?” He played with the scalpel between his fingers. “Will you talk? Will you tell us the name of the reporter?”
Carl stared into the face of his torturer. There was no way out of this. If he did not talk, he would be tortured to death. If he talked, the death would be quick. It was not a matter of life or death. It was a matter of how painfully did he want to die.
He looked down at the floor and slowly nodded.
“Smart man.”
From outside the room, the roar of gunfire caught both of the men’s attention. As they whipped their heads around, they could hear automatic and semi-automatic weapons going off. The captor was completely still as the echoes of screams made their way into the room through the closed door.
Every few seconds, gunfire was briefly heard. It was followed by roars of anger, raucous curses, or the deafening cries of dying men. With each bullet released, Carl’s eyes widened. He knew who was coming.
Carl looked at the face of his captor, but his eyes remained glued on the door. He did not move as he heard more gunfire and yelling. If he was feeling any fear, the interrogator hid it under his cruel eyes.
The echo of another man howling in entered the room. With a snap of his fingers, the captor lit up every lamp in the room, completely illuminating the area. He walked behind Carl as he pulled out a gun. Coming behind his victim, the captor crouched down and put his knife at Carl’s throat, causing the editor to completely freeze and look forward. He kept his gun aimed at the rusty, closed door.
There was a loud thud against the door as a corpse crashed against it before slowly slumping onto the ground. The captor confidently cocked his firearm before a long silence engulfed the room. The gunfire outside ended. Both men’s gazes remained locked on the room’s only entrance. Seconds felt like minutes.
Without warning, the lights flickered, causing Carl to almost jump. When they came back on, a hooded figure stood right in front of the closed door.
The cape of the intruder completely covered his body as he stood still. The dark hood was thrown perfectly over his head. His eyes remained fixed on the two men. Both stared at the intruder in silence. Carl stared with awe and fear while the armed man stood confidently.
Finally, the captor spoke. “Cute trick.”
“Only nine men, Victor? That’s insulting.”
Victor let out a laugh. “It sure took you a long time. That is if you’re as good as I’ve heard. Maybe you’re getting tired…and don’t worry, it’s not over yet.”
“It’ll be over when your boss is dead.”
“I’m afraid it won’t get that far.” Victor moved the sharp edge of his blade closer to Carl’s throat. “Why don’t you take off the costume before I slit his throat?”
The intruder took a step closer. “Go ahead. Kill him.” He took another step as his cold voice filled the room again. “Kill him and kill the only thing standing between you and me. The only thing keeping you alive.”
Victor suddenly fired a few rounds, but Ethan dodged them with ease as he moved his body side to side. The bullets whizzed past him and loudly buried themselves in the opposite wall. For a split second, Victor was amazed by the inhuman speed of the intruder, but he soon focused back on the situation.
Ethan began to slowly walk towards the hostage. “I hope those weren’t meant for me.”
“You won’t make it out of here alive.”
“That should be the least of your worries.” Ethan was now holding a small throwing knife in his hand.
“I said stay back!”
Victor’s blade was now pressed against Carl’s neck. If the editor moved, his throat would be cut. Pausing, Ethan was now standing halfway between the door and the duo. He and Victor’s eyes locked for what seemed like an eternity.
In the blink of an eye, Ethan was upon them. His free hand grabbed the wrist that was holding the scalpel as his other hand stabbed Victor in his opposite shoulder. As Ethan moved the blade away from Carl’s neck, Victor let out a cry of pain as his now useless arm fell to his side. The pistol bounced off of the floor and skid a few feet away. Ethan twisted Victor’s wrist and the blade fell from his hands and next to the base of the chair.
Everything happened within a matter of seconds.
Grabbing Victor by the collar, Ethan threw across the room and his back slammed hard against the rusty wall. The collision loudly echoed through the room before Victor fell onto the hard floor.
Ethan turned to Carl and drew out his long, freshly sharpened dagger. He bent down to cut him free, but suddenly stopped. Carl’s eyes were closed shut as his head hung downwards from his neck. A steady stream of blood slowly poured from the gash in his throat.
Ethan had been too slow.
He stared at the corpse for a few seconds before whipping his head around to look at Victor.
Victor was sitting against the wall, a sinister smile on his face. He let out a low-pitched chuckle. He had pulled the knife out of his shoulder and it now lay next to his useless arm on the floor. He confidently looked towards the hooded man. “Looks like you’ve lost a step.”
Ethan came to his feet, his mask hiding the fury on his face.
Victor slowly rose back up. “Go ahead and do your worst. I’ll never tell you where he is.”
Ethan was suddenly upon him. “You don’t know anything. You’re stalling so the police will come.” He drew out his dagger. “Tell your boss I’m coming for him.” Without warning, he stabbed Victor in his stomach.
Victor let out a cry of pain as he fell to the floor.
“Tell him to sleep with one eye open.”
***
Ethan took a few deep breaths.
In the deserted alley
, he looked at the open dumpster. Piles of black trash bags lay in it along with assortments of other small pieces of garbage. The stench coming from it was overwhelming. Even stray animals were sure to stay away from it. But Ethan could easily block out the odor.
On top of the heap of trash lay a body: Carl.
The man Ethan failed to save. Carl’s eyes were shut as his collar had been stained with the blood that covered his neck. The bleeding had stopped and most of the blood had dried. A few roaches that had been hiding in the trash were now walking across the stiff. Flies swarmed around the corpse as if it was a new toy. The stench was now clinging to the body and had become interwoven with its clothes.
Ethan looked away. It was his fault. He was responsible.
He had been distracted. Maybe it was because he was exhausted. His wounds were still bothering him. He had not gotten any sleep last night. He couldn’t go even a few minutes without the image of Katrina popping into his head.
If he had been in top form, he would have easily been able to catch Victor’s wrist before he slit the throat. But he was tired now and it was not just because of his wounds.
Standing on this cracked cement and in the unbearable odor, Ethan knew that with every day that passed there was more blood on his hands. Carl. The two women. And all the other people that the police were interrogating.
Was his revenge worth it?
He did not know anymore. When he had come back to Crown City, there was not a doubt in his mind that he knew what needed to be done and did not care at what the cost would be. But these people were animals. They were going to throw everything they had at him.
And the innocent would die.
***
Victor lay on the hospital bed, his eyes staring at the ceiling. Directly above him, the fan slowly rotated, cooling his body down. The TV had been muted. He had no interest in watching news about the man who had stabbed him only a few hours ago.