Elite 2: The Wrong Side of Revolution

by Joseph C. Anthony

  The atmosphere in the train was a solemn one, as if everyone inside knew what was about to happen to Daniel. He hypothesized that a mass transit vehicle was in fact a blank canvas, and that the individual rider determined the mood within. In reality, the only real change in ambience was determined by the current state of the rider. Externally, everything remained blank. Therefore two people on the train could interpret their car as exuding two completely different emotions. The individual who had just spent the night with their new lover for the first time could interpret the atmosphere of the car as a joyful one, while the man riding to his near-certain death would interpret it as a solemn one.

  The theory was enough to take Daniel’s mind off of the disaster that was soon to follow until he arrived at his stop.

  As he departed the train at the North Loop stop downtown, he began his walk toward Demérs’ building. He was not dressed warm enough, wearing only jeans, a plain grey T-shirt and a brown leather coat. He hadn’t much considered the weather while he was rushing to get dressed back at the complex.

  The city was as lively as ever as he pushed his way through the bitter winds along the sidewalk. He took a deep breath and looked up, soaking in the view of the magnificent skyline. Much like with his mother, he wished to tell the city he held so dear how much he loved her before quite possibly leaving her forever. This walk was his phone call.

  He arrived in front of Demérs’ building much sooner than he would have liked to, an hour ahead of the deadline he had set for Richfield.

  Daniel carried no weapons. There would have been no point. As Richfield had pointed out to him he was walking into Demérs’ home turf, and there would be no way to sneak in without him knowing. Especially for Daniel, who was in no way himself a James Bond. His best and only option was to surrender, and then once Jordan was safe look for his best chance to escape.

  He had come to terms with the fact that an opportunity for escape would be rather unlikely, but at least then Jordan would be safe. He imagined there would be a lot of unpleasant poking and prodding in his future before Demérs finally decided to kill him.

  He took one last glance at the buildings around him before making his way up the stairs and into the building. Inside the lobby everything seemed normal. A few residents were enjoying their coffee in front of the waterfall, and the desk clerk was entranced by the computer screen in front of her. Daniel was able to walk straight to the elevators without anyone noticing him.

  Why is it so easy to get into this building? He wondered.

  He arrived at the elevator that went up to the penthouse and stepped inside. He pushed the call button next to the button for the top floor.

  Within seconds, the elevator door was sliding back open, and two angry looking men in black suits stepped in.

  “Why always suits?” Daniel asked them just before the bigger one shoved him against the back wall.

  “Shut up,” the smaller one said, sounding a bit irritable. “Turn around.”

  As the doors slid shut the two men grabbed Daniel by the shoulders and spun him around, slamming his face up against the back wall. They each patted him down, then took his hands and bound them with zip-ties. They then spun him back around and each grabbed onto one of Daniel’s elbows. The bigger one then pressed the button for the top floor and the car started upwards.

  Daniel tightened the tension on the zip-ties that bound his wrists just slightly, knowing that he would be able to break them but wondering how much skin he would lose in the process.

  “Just two of you?” he asked the two men who gripped his arms tightly. If he was going to go down, he wanted to go down as a smartass like those guys in the movies. No fear.

  “Have they not told you what I’m capable of?” He asked them, glancing from one to the other.

  Both men appeared to be of Pacific Island descent, and both carried very wide frames. One was Daniel’s height and the other a few inches taller. Both were bald and had tribal tattoos on their necks. Daniel wondered if they were brothers.

  They stood silently, not willing to indulge Daniel in his end-of-the-line antics. This led Daniel to begin whistling as they waited for the elevator car to reach the top. He noticed the smaller one roll his eyes, which gave him a small amount of satisfaction.

  When they reached the top floor there were two more men in suits waiting for them when the doors slid open. Both of these men were also bald but were white and had leaner frames, though still very intimidating.

  “Give you any problems?” One of the men in the hall asked in a deep, grumbly voice as he grabbed Daniel by the back of the neck and threw him forward, out into the hallway.

  “No,” the shorter Islander answered. “No weapons either.”

  “Didn’t they tell you?” Daniel turned towards the three men, “I don’t need weapons.”

  “Shut up!” The white one yelled, again grabbing the back of Daniel’s neck and throwing him forward. Somehow Daniel managed to maintain his balance as he stumbled toward the door of the apartment.

  The other white muscle stood by the door and waited to open it until the first white guy gave him the nod.

  As the five of them walked into the apartment, there were two more men inside—these ones had hair—guarding Jordan. One was blonde and the other brunette. The blonde had his gun pointed at Jordan’s head. She was gagged and tied to the chair by with a thin, nylon rope.

  “Six against one,” Daniel remarked once they were inside, “double my top score.”

  He took a look around the apartment. Demérs and Salvador were nowhere to be found.

  “Where’s the boss?” Daniel asked aloud.

  The brunette replied sarcastically in a nasty English accent. “Oh, were you hoping to meet wif Gordon Demérs? I’m sorry, you’ll need an appointment.”

  The man then grunted as he kicked Daniel in the shin. Daniel had already prepared himself by altering his pain receptors in the elevator, but he played along by dropping to one knee.

  “What the hell was that for?” he asked the brunette Brit.

  “For finking you could outwit me,” the man replied. “I saw it on your ugly face.”

  “I’m not ugly,” Daniel said in a sad little kid voice.

  “Get her up,” the Brit ordered the blonde one. “We’re gettin’ out of here.”

  “Let her go!” Daniel blurted, suddenly serious. “I’m Daniel Hart, I’m the one you want. Let her go.”

  “I’m sorry laddy,” the Englishmen said to him, getting up in his face, “The boss’s orders were to bring you bo’f into ‘im. Was that not what you was hopin’ for?”

  Daniel no longer felt like joking around. His simple plan had now gone to shit. His Spidey moment was up.

  The six unfriendly men ushered both Daniel and Jordan down to the lobby and out onto the street. They had also bound Jordan’s wrists with zip-ties and removed her gag. As they strode through the lobby the large men walked close enough to their hostages so that no one noticed their hands tied behind their backs.

  When they stepped through the doors and out onto the street there were two black, mid-sized sedans waiting for them. They appeared to be newer models.

  “What, no SUV?” Daniel said to the bald white man standing to his left. “Looks like old Gordie’s gone cheap on us.”

  As he was finishing his sentence the man turned and plowed a right cross into Daniel’s jaw, knocking him to the pavement.

  “Seriously?! Right on the street?!” Daniel shouted from his knees, spitting out blood.

  “I’ve had enough of your mouth!” The man who had punched him walked up behind him and forced a piece of cloth between Daniel’s teeth, then tied it tightly around the back of his head. He then picked Daniel up by his collar before shoving him into the back seat of the lead car.

  The doorman stared in horror at the scene. The intimidating bald man in the black suit stared him down, silently telling the doorman to mind his own business. The man then got into the driver’s seat of the sedan.
The brothers with the neck tattoos got in the back seat on either side of Daniel, and the blonde one took his place in the front passenger seat.

  The brunette and the other baldy got in the trail car with Jordan.

  As the cars pulled off Daniel began pumping himself up. It was a massive mistake putting him in such a small vehicle, which left him in close quarters with his attackers. This would undoubtedly be his best opportunity for escape. The trick was going to be finding a way to safely rescue Jordan as well.

  The blonde in the front seat sat with his gun trained on Daniel as they drove along, making their way toward the expressway. The two big men who were currently squishing Daniel in the middle seat seemed at ease, as if completely un-phased by the situation.

  As they got on the expressway Daniel turned to see how far behind them the trail car was.

  “Eyes front!” The blonde in the front seat ordered him.

  Daniel did as he was told and turned around, preparing to make his move.

  He was incredibly nervous. He would only get one shot at this and everything needed to happen perfectly. The jewelry store was awesome, but this was about to be some next-level shit.

  Daniel began pulling apart on the zip-ties that held his wrists together. He felt the plastic start to cut into his wrists, but he kept himself from feeling the pain. Eventually, he felt them snap free.

  Unfortunately he also heard them snap, and he wasn’t the only one.

  The blonde turned his head around to stare Daniel in the eyes, recognizing the sound. Both men’s eyes began to widen, realizing that they needed to act first.

  The blonde started to move but Daniel was quicker. He slid forward and kicked his right leg upward, pinning the blonde’s right hand—which was currently holding his gun—to the roof of the car. The man fired instinctively, shooting a hole through the roof.

  The large man on his right saw what was happening and quickly leaned in to try and subdue Daniel. With his hands now free Daniel punched as hard as he could with his right arm, throwing the man’s head backward into the window.

  The man on his left decided to take a different approach and pulled out his own gun. Seeing this Daniel shot out with his left arm and firmly pinned the man’s trigger hand against the door. Thankfully he was a lefty. The man tried to move his arm away from the door but was shocked to find that he couldn’t move an inch against Daniel’s superior strength.

  The driver thought about going for his gun but traffic on the interstate was terrible and he thought better of it.

  The large Islander on the other side of him began to re-gather himself, but Daniel was able to hit him with another jab to the temple before he was able to make a move. This caused Daniel to have to move his other hand away from the door a few inches, but he quickly shoved it back into place before the Islander with the gun could get into position to take a shot.

  The blonde in the front seat tried to position himself to strike, but his motion was severely limited with his right hand pinned to the roof. Daniel propped himself up on the back seat with his right arm, and kicked at the blonde with his other leg, the shoe of his heel connecting with the man’s nose.

  Both the Islander to his left and the blonde tried to free their trigger hands, but Daniel ordered his muscles to keep contracting, fueling his muscle fibers with the mix of blood and chemicals that provided them with incredible strength.

  The driver, now realizing the severity of the situation, started to pull his gun.

  Daniel turned his head to the left, noticing that the large man from the Pacific hadn’t had the time to wrap his finger around the trigger.

  Daniel slid his left hand forward, forming his hand over the top of the Islander’s and wrapping his own finger around the trigger. He then pulled the man’s arm toward him, aiming the gun at the driver’s seat, and pulled the trigger.

  The gun fired, the bullet traveling through the driver’s seat and into the back of the driver.

  The driver buckled forward, losing control of the vehicle. The steering wheel jolted to the right, putting the car on a collision course with the center barrier. The wounded driver was unable to gain control.

  Seeing that they were seconds away from crashing, Daniel released his grip on his enemies and placed both hands on the backs of the seats in front of him. He tightened every muscle in his body to its fullest extent and then some, bracing for impact.

  Before any of his kidnappers could recover, the front end of the sedan smashed head-on into the concrete barrier at nearly sixty miles an hour. Both of the men in the front seat were pummeled by airbags. Neither of the men in the back had their seatbelts on and went flying—first into the seats in front of them, and then in different directions as the laws of physics took effect. All of the glass in the vehicle shattered and flew all over the place.

  Daniel barely moved an inch through the entire crash.

  When the car stopped moving everyone inside was unconscious except for Daniel and the blonde man. Daniel took care of that by grabbing the side of his head and slamming it against the area of the car between the front and rear windows. The car now sat almost parallel to the concrete divider. Daniel turned to his right and saw a number of witnesses stopping to check on them, including the passengers of the other black sedan.

  Daniel quickly climbed over the large man to his left and slid out the door, hiding behind the side of the car now facing the divider. He peeked up through the window and saw the bald driver of the other car walking over to the wreck.

  Daniel dropped down out of sight. He heard someone open the passenger’s side door and begin examining the damage inside. He assumed it was the other driver.

  Without hesitation Daniel reached up and grabbed the other driver by his shoulders. He had been tending to the blonde in the front seat and was taken by surprise.

  Daniel used his strength to pull the muscular man through the driver’s side window and slammed his upper body down onto the pavement. The man’s neck snapped back, his bald head cracking against the concrete, rendering him unconscious. All that was left now was the British brute.

  “Okay then!” He heard the man yell in his English accent, followed by the shrieks of the others who had stopped to help the crash victims.

  Daniel again lifted his head to peer through the glassless window, seeing the Brit with his arm wrapped around Jordan’s neck and his pistol pressed to her head. Everyone else was now running back to their cars, scared out of their wits by the random madman.

  “You’ve done quite a job here!” The captive yelled to Daniel, “But believe it or not you can still save your bunny lass. All you need to do is come wif me. Try anyfing, and I’ll kill ya.”

  Daniel leaned his back against the car, feeling the overwhelming fatigue starting to set in. He quickly shook it off and tried to decide what to do next. He had managed to take out five of Demérs men in epic fashion, but the sixth and final bastard had managed to outsmart him by putting Jordan between them.

  Or had he?

  Daniel looked at the bottom of the car and remembered his first day in the classroom with Horchoff. He had mentioned that one’s ability to lift a car off of a loved one was what had inspired him to design the procedure in the first place.

  “Come on now!” The Brit shouted from the other side of the car.

  Daniel took a breath. There was no way the Englishman was going to kill Jordan and let Daniel get away. Doing so would take away Demérs’ only bit of leverage against Daniel and ultimately Richfield, and the boss wouldn’t be very happy about that.

  Daniel got up on his feet and squatted, facing the car. He reached down and gripped the bottom, and began to lift. Surprisingly, it only took him a matter of seconds to lift the car up and onto its side.

  “What are you doing?” The Brit asked him, sounding genuinely confused.

  Daniel took a peek over the side of the car and saw his enemy holding Jordan tightly in front of him. They were only twenty or so feet away.

  The man saw
Daniel pop his head up and pointed his gun at him. Daniel quickly dropped back down as the British man fired a shot off the side door.

  Daniel took a deep breath and reinvigorated his ultra-pump, then began pushing the car forward on its side as hard as he could. His speed quickened with every step, and he could hear his attacker firing shots into the top of the car.

  “Ahhh!” The Brit yelled ferociously. Daniel knew he was now only a couple feet away from where they were standing.

  The English brute looked around him. A line of cars were stacked up directly behind him, blocking him from escape.

  Quickly he pulled his hostage along with him as he darted to his left, trying to escape being crushed by the sliding sedan that was coming right for him. He threw Jordan forward and dove to the ground, just inches away from being smashed into by the vehicle. He caught himself with his trigger hand, making sure not to release his grip on his weapon.

  Daniel saw them fall to the ground and quickly rushed over—the car stopped less than a foot from the line of backed-up traffic. The gawkers on the highway screamed and gasped at the scene they were witnessing.

  The English attacker rushed to pick himself back up, but Daniel moved too fast. Daniel slammed his foot down on top of the hand holding the gun, shattering every bone in it.

  The Brit screamed as he turned and looked up at Daniel.

  “Told you I don’t need a weapon,” Daniel said just before slamming his left fist into the side of the man’s jaw.

  When the fight was over Daniel ran to Jordan and picked her up off the ground. Tears were streaming down her face.

  Daniel removed her gag and tried to calm her down. “It’s over now,” he assured her. “You’re safe.”

  That was when he heard sirens coming from off in the distance. He turned back to Jordan. “We have to go.”

  He turned and saw the other black sedan still sitting a few yards from the crash site. He pulled Jordan along with him and led her around to the passenger side of the car. He opened the front door.