A faint yell loomed in the near distance from the direction the two men came. I took off in a mad dash. The noise grew louder with each passing second.
A door opened ten paces ahead of me from the side of the hallway. A figure stepped out of the dimly lit room with a pistol clutched in his hands. He turned toward me, then brought his piece to bear.
The red markings on his tactical vest caught my eye. He no longer had the mask on, showing off his crew cut and the wiry beard that lined his jaw.
We fired at the same time. Sparks flashed from my Glock and his heater. I closed in. His round struck the side of my coat, tearing through the fabric. It didn’t break the skin that I could tell.
I hit him in the shoulder. Crew-cut stumbled back against the door, then lowered the pistol. He gritted his teeth, then cut his eyes back to me. Anger and pain swelled on his tormented face.
Crew-cut swapped the pistol to his other hand and stood up straight. I closed in and fired another round, hitting him right between the eyes. His head snapped back, and his legs buckled. He dropped to the floor.
I stopped shy of the doorway, then peered around the edge. Jackal hung in the center of the empty room from a chain wrapped around his wrists. The tips of his shoes scrapped along the floor. A blindfold covered his eyes. He yelled through the gag shoved in his mouth, and thrashed his body.
The sharp reports of gunfire stalked me. The incoming rounds hammered the door. I flinched, ducked, then slipped inside the room over to the wall past the edge of the door.
“Good to see you in one piece,” I said, pressing my back against the doorframe.
Jackal yelled louder, but I couldn’t understand his muffled words.
I peered down the hallway, then craned my neck. Muzzle fire flashed from the lone gunman closing in. The rounds punched the edge of the door. I rolled away, waiting for the gunfire to ebb.
Jackal thrashed his body and jerked at his arms, but couldn’t slip them free of the chains. He continued pulling, moving his head from side to side.
The reports of gunfire stopped. I caught a glimpse of the gunman closing in. He didn’t have a vest covering the outside of the brown coat he wore.
I fired two rounds. The Glock barked. The bullets hit center mass, killing him. I scanned the corridor, then moved away from the doorway.
Charlie was nowhere in sight. I reached up and pulled the dingy rag from Jackal’s mouth. I couldn’t reach the blindfold covering his eyes.
Jackal outlined his lips with his tongue, then said, “It’s about time you got here. These asshats have been using my face and body as a pinata. They’re a bit sore about us killing their men.”
“Yeah. You look like shit,” I said. “Is anyone else in here with you?”
“Minus Crew-cut, that Charlie guy was in here a minute ago as well. Once the gunfire started, he decked me in the face, then shoved that rag down my throat. Not sure where he ran off to.”
“I’m not seeing him. I clipped Crew-cut at the doorway, but haven’t seen anyone else,” I said.
Blood ran from both of Jackal’s nostrils and the side of his lip. His right eye looked swollen, the skin puffy and a purplish-blue hue. He had a gash on his temple that seeped blood down the side of his face.
He jerked his body side to side, then said, “You mind getting me down from here? My arms and wrists are killing me.”
“Yeah. Let me find where they have it tied off,” I traced the length of the chain back to the far wall behind him. I glanced toward the opened doorway across the room, then back to the chain. I studied the knot of metal wrapped around the hook screwed to the wall. My hand felt around the large links, searching for the end.
“Today would be great,” Jackal said in a sarcastic manner.
“I’m working on it.” I found the end of the chain, and untangled the knot, dropping the extra chain to the floor. The hook had one of the links slipped over its curved end. The length of the chain running to the pulley secured to the ceiling had no slack.
“Hold on. I’m going to have to—”
The floor creaked a warning behind me. I turned toward Jackal and found a man rushing headlong at me. It had to be Charlie.
I brought the Glock 17 to bear. He closed the distance in a blink.
Charlie grabbed my forearm and pushed my arm up as my finger squeezed the trigger. A single round fired, punching the ceiling near the pulley.
“What the hell?” Jackal kicked his legs and swung from side to side.
Charlie drove me back against the wall next to the hook. He headbutted me twice, then slammed my wrist against his knee.
Stars swirled in the air around my head. The Glock dropped from my hand and hit the floor. He kicked it out of reach.
He wrapped his hand around my chin, then leaned forward. “I’m going to make you suffer before I kill you and your friend there. You will not be given a quick death. You’re going to hurt for killing my brother and my men.”
I raised my arm in the air, then dropped my elbow across his forearm. His arm buckled. His hold around my chin lessened. I hit him with a right cross, sending him back on his heels. The blow dazed him from the blank stare on his face.
Charlie shook his head, then looked at me.
I pushed off the wall,
