Story spin-off

[Red Dragon]

I know that I am still an unknown on this site but I wanted to get the opinions of anyone who can offer them. I know many of you are probably familiar with Mike "Nightcrawler"s story. I have been working on writing a spin-off story telling Corwin's story. Sort of telling about what kind of stuff Corwin does after he has returned to the Detroit area.I wanted to show you guys a few paragraphs from what I have so far and get your feedback. Good or bad, I'll take what I can get.

Here it is:

It has been almost 3 months since I helped my friend with his "incedent" with the triad. I have since returned to my base of operations here in the Detroit area. Things had been pretty quiet until about a week ago. It was then that I recieved a call from one of my contacts. He told me that one of my old friends, Sam Denning, had decided to turn sides and sell information about me to some of my old "contracts". Mainly, he told the Russian mafia and a few of my friend's other competitors that I was the one responsible for destroying their shipments and retiring some of my fellow "Troubleshooters". Needless to say, this put me in an interesting position. Being a contract problem-solver already has a way of making one a little bit more cautious when moving in public. Now knowing that everybody and their brother is more than likely out to get me at the moment, you could almost say that I'm a little paranoid.

The first thing I had to do, was call up Mike and replenish my stock of weapons. Mike was always my go-to guy when it came to expanding on my collection. Having a best friend who deals in the underground firearms market comes in handy. For my birthday, he sent me a matching set of Ruger Mk II .22 pistols with integral silencers. Gotta love that. There's nothing like opening up a gift on your birthday and finding little beauties like those all tied up with a bow. I called him up and filled him in on my situation. He gave me a good deal on an HK G3 with a 18" heavy barrel and a scope and enough 20 round mags and ammo to keep me going for a good long time. He also had a good sale going on 9mm ammo. I knew that was gonna come in handy, so I could have enough ammo for my silenced Sig 226 or my Ruger P89 in case I was in a public place where a rifle would be a little too conspicuous. He then told me that he would have some of his people look into it and see if they could give him a little more intel than my people were getting.

Next, I had to see what I could do to find Sam and make sure he knew what he had gotten me into. I got my remaining contacts looking for him, each one of them carrying a lone 9mm bullet with "SAM" engraved on the casing. It was my subtle little way of letting him know, when they found him, that turning on a contract killer was not the best business decision he could have made. Can't exactly let people walk all over you, ya know. Its bad for business. My main concern, though, was that I had to compile a list of all of the contracts that were now out for revenge and see what I was up against.

I gathered as much intelligence as I could on the contracts and as it turned out, they all had decided to join forces for this particular shindig. Must be that whole "the enemy of my enemy is my friend" thing. That made things a little bit more difficult for me. I was counting on a little bit of chaos between them, but having them all work together meant that it would, more than likely, be a much more organized action. It looked like they all went with the best they could offer as far as a counter-hit squad. The russian mafia decided to go with 3 of their best. Yuri Sharapova, aka "Viper", Sergei Zerebko, aka "Quickdraw", and Pavel Fetislov, aka "Undertaker". These guys alone were bad enough but they were just the beginning. The Cortez weapons cartel sent Jose Gomez, aka " Diablo" and last but not least, the Rico drug cartel sent their best, an old aquaintance of mine actually, a man by the name of Bill Taylor, no aka for him, just plain Bill. He was one of my basic training buddies and we had some "special training" together as well. He and I were working together until he got greedy and started doing hits on federal agents and public officials. I may be a hitman but I still have morals. These guys were the dream team of contract killers so, in an odd sort of way, I'm kinda flattered. I didn't realize that they looked at me as that much of a threat.

 

[Randy in Arizona]

Promising start, please continue!

 

[Red Dragon]

so far I have written about 10 pages. I'm not sure if I am gonna do the chapter by chapter thing like Nightcrawler did or if I am gonna post the rest when I'm done. But thanks for the reply

 

[Red Dragon]

Here is a little more. This part has some dialog.
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I then called Mike and gave him an update on all the information I gathered.

"Hey Mike, hows things in Upper Michigan?"

"Kinda boring, really. Find anything new?"

" Yeah, unfortunately, it looks like Sammy went off and told about half of my contracts that I was the one responsible for throwing the wrenches in their works."

"Well, sucks to be you."

"Gee, thanks Mike. As always your sympathy is overwhelming."

"Any idea of what they plan to do to you?"

"Yeah, unfortunately, they've all decided to send their best hitmen to take out lil' ol' me."

"And I bet thats a boost to your ego, huh?"

"Well, yeah, I'm kinda touched to know they care enough to send the very best."

"Well Corwin, good luck with that. I'm gonna go get a pizza... No, I'm just kidding, I'll see if I can talk to some people about providing some backup for ya if you need it."

"Thanks alot Mike, I'll keep you updated."

That night, one of my contacts called me with Sam's location. My first act was to take care of that son of a b----. I am not nomally a violent guy, at least, as non-violent as a hitman can be, but when you stab me in the back, you're heading for a bad day. I loaded up with my suppressed Sig 226, enough magazines to hold me over in case Sam had some goons guarding him and, as always,. a variety of sharp and pointy things of various sizes. Sam was hiding out in a small house in Petersburg, a small farming town about 10 miles north of the Ohio border. I wasn't expecting too much opposition but one can never be too careful. I loaded up my '93 Chevy Lumina and headed towards Petersburg. By the time I hit Interstate 23, I already knew how I was gonna go about showing Sam how I treat people that stab me in the back.

I parked my car at the end of a dead-end road about a block from Sam's hideout so I could have the element of surprise. The house was surrounded by a fairly thick cover of oak trees as well as a lot of ground cover that made my approach a little easier. As I approached the fence surrounding the property, I got a good look at the opposition. Looked like Sam was able to get quite a few armed goons from his new found friends. Two guys were hanging out by the barn west of the house, one was patrolling the perimeter, a sniper was set up on the roof of the house and four men were guarding the entrances to the house. Who would have thought they considered Sam to be important enough to waste eight goons on. They were probably keeping him around so he could give them more information about me as time went on. All of the goons were carrying what appeared to be MP-5 SDs and the sniper had a Remington 700 with a Leupold tactical scope. The goon patrolling the parimeter was my first objective. I didn't want to run in with guns blazing on this one because I tend to enjoy things like breathing and walking upright. My best bet was stealth. Take one guy out at a time. I kneeled down near a large tree and waited for the goon to approach. I waited for him to walk past me and when he finally reached about 3 feet away, I popped out from behind the tree, grabbed the goon from behind, placing my hand over his mouth so no one could hear him make any noise and turned his head until I heard a snap. I dragged his body behind a bush so none of the other men could see him.
The next objective was the sniper. The sniper was pacing on the flat top of the roof and occasionally sitting down in a folding chair to take a cigarette break. I knew that when he sat down would be my best time to strike. It left his back turned to me for the 5 minutes it took for him to smoke. I stayed near the edge of the woods watching and waiting for him to sit down again. I grabbed a black powdercoated eight point throwing star out of a pocket in my tac-vest and lined up my shot. Just as he sat down, I threw the star, hitting him in the neck just below the back of the skull. He went limp but remained in the seated position. Two down, six to go.
I moved along the perimeter until I came to the back of the barn. I slowly crept up to the enterance of the barn where the two men were talking. This was going to be more difficult. I decided to try the old movie cliche of throwing a stone to draw their attention away from me. To my surprise, they fell for it. When they both turned to see where the noise had come from, I grabbed the man closest to me and swung him into a nearby tree, knocking him out cold. I turned around quickly to find the other man pulling his weapon up to the ready. I kicked the MP-5 to the side before he could get it pointed at me and caught him with an uppercut to the jaw, knocking him unconscious as well. Unfortunately, in the process of kicking the weapon out of the way, I had caused the goon to pull the trigger, causing a round to fire, hitting a metal plowblade in the barn. Stealth time was over. The loud ring of the bullet hitting the plowblade drew the attention of the 2 goons guarding the back door. They saw me for a brief moment and opened fire. I quickly ducked into the barn and drew my Sig from its holster. I crouched down by the door and prepared to return fire. I listened as one of the goons began running in my direction. I leaned to the right, landing on my right side and quickly fired at the first guy, with a doubletap to the chest, he dropped like a poolboy's pants in a low budget porno. I then fired another quick doubletap into the second man who was standing farther back still covering the back door. He dropped to his knees and fell forward on his face. Six guys were wormbait and I was still free of unwanted holes.
I entered the house through the back door and walked towards the front door with my Sig at the ready, I slowly crept to the front door and opened it. Both the guards turned to look at me. I looked back at both of them with a smile on my face.
"Hi!" I said in a happy tone. As they stood there with confused looks on their faces, I brought my Sig up and shot them both in the chest.
Now all that was left was to take care of Sammy. I walked up the stairs until I heard a sound coming from behind a closed door. I stood to the right of the door and slowly turned the knob. As soon as I started to push the door open, Sam fired a shotgun leaving a rather large hole in a perfectly good door. I pushed the door open hard, knocking Sam back, causing him to drop the shotgun. He looked up to see me and reached for the gun to get a second shot off. Before he could get to the gun, I took aim with my Sig and fired a shot, just missing his hand and hitting the shotgun. He quickly pulled back his hand and cowered in the corner of the room.

 

[Red Dragon]

a little more.

Again, any comments, good or bad. if it sucks, tell me, if you want to see more, tell me that too.

"Corwin! Buddy! I can explain!"
" I think we're past explainations, Sam."
"So you've come here to kill me?"
"That all depends on how these next five minutes go."
"What can I do?"
"First of all, tell me one good reason why you would ever, in that empty little head of yours, think it was a good idea to turn me over to the Russian mob and the cartels?"
"What can I say, they paid me a lot of money."
"How much was finding me worth to them?"
"Grand total? About twenty million."
"Twenty million, huh? Was that ten from the Russians and five from each of the cartels?"
"Yeah."
"Wow, thats not too bad," I said with surprise.
"So what are you going to do to me now?"
"I'll tell you what, Sam. You give me the twenty million and I'll just shoot you in the foot."
"What are my other choices?"
"I put all kinds of sharp and pointy things in various places of your anatomy."
"Hmm...that's a tough one. Can I sleep on it?" Sammy said, sarcastically.
"So, we have a deal? Point me to the money."
Sam sighs heavily and says "In the suitcases over there."
"Okie dokie, grab 'em and lets go."
Sam and I walk back to my car and I put the suitcases in the trunk. Sam is still fairly nervous. I did originally go there to kill him afterall, but its amazing how twenty million dollars can change your mood. I opened one of the suitcases and pulled out a handful of money and counted it out.
"Ok, Sam, here is a hundred thousand for you. It should be enough for you to get the hell out of dodge... and pay for the medical bills."
"Wait! What medical bills?! I thought you were kidding! C'mon man! Cut me a break!"
"You didn't forget about the bullet I sent out with your name engraved on it, did you?"
As I said that, I loaded the engraved bullet into the chamber of my Sig.
"There's a hospital ten miles south. Search the goons for car keys. Hope we never meet like this again. Bye Sam."
With that, I aimed down and shot Sam in the left foot. I caught the shell casing and tossed it to him as he jumped and hobbled around for a few minutes before starting to limp back to the house. I closed the trunk and got into my car. As I backed down the road, I rolled my window down and shouted my last words to Sam.
"Remember Sam, if you ever do anything like this to me again, I will give you a whole lot more than a limp."
And then it was done. I headed back to my place to work out my next move. With the knowledge that the "Fab 5" were gunning my way, I needed to come up with a plan, and fast. The twenty million dollars now in my possession made preparations a lot easier. It gave me a good buffer to start hiring out some people to keep tabs on my would-be assassins. My first hurdle was gonna be "The Mob Squad". Going up against one hitman is hard enough but taking on three is damn near a fool's errand. I have to figure out a way to gain the upper hand. I used the money to get every available snitch, spy and bounty hunter out looking for the russians to let me know what they were planning.

 

[Red Dragon]

While I waited for my intel to come in, I decided to release some tension and go bowling. When I arrived at the local bowling alley, it was fairly empty. This was good for me because I have always hated going to the lanes only to find out that one of the twenty-something leagues in the area were hogging the whole building. It was also good because I could have my choice of the bowling balls to be able to find the right fit and weight. What can I say, even though being a hitman pays pretty well, I just don't have enough time to go out and buy my own bowling ball. So, I walked up to the counter and bought a few games and rented some shoes. Again, got the money, not the time. My first game seemed to go pretty well, hitting a respectable amount of strikes and spares. By the time I started my second game, the bowling alley had started to fill up a little more. A retired couple set up in the lane next to me. They set up their games and began bowling, as did I. Half way through my second game, the gentleman of the couple decided to start some small talk.
"Hi, I'm Tom and this is my wife Arlene."
"Nice to meet you, I'm Corwin."
You seem to be doing pretty well, Corwin."
I smiled and said, "I've been bowling since I was little, and I try to get to the lanes whenever I can."
"The wife and I have a lot more time to bowl now that we are retired."
"Congratulations! What did you do before you retired?"
"I was the Chief of Human Resources at the Detroit Medical Center."
"That sounds like an interesting job."
"So, what do you do, Corwin?"
"I'm a freelance troubleshooter. I shoot people that cause trouble."
Tom smiled and said, "Seriously, what does a freelance troubleshooter do?"
"People hire me when they have someone they want terminated and they don't have the heart to do it themselves. I also redistribute various amounts of funds, assets and equipment, fix internal problems, stuff like that."
"Now that sounds like an interesting job."
"Well, it keeps money in my pocket."
We continued to bowl and engaged in small talk for a while. When I ran out of games, I wished them well and headed back to my place to see if any new intel had come up. When I got to my front door, there was a small package on my doorstep. There was a small note on the package that simply said, "From Russia, with love". Gotta love the James Bond referances. From the information that I had on the russian killer trio, there was nothing in any of their MO's that led me to believe that the package was a bomb, but just to be safe, I checked under the package for potential triggers and picked it up and carried inside very carefully. Once the package was on my table, I got out a little fiber optic camera and fed it through a small hole I made in the box. As I suspected, it wasn't a bomb. I opened it up and was surprised to find a bottle of Stolichnaya vodka, a can of fairly expensive beluga caviar, and a coffin nail, and I'm not talkin' about the slang for a cigarette. I'm talkin' about an actual 6" long steel coffin nail. It didn't take a genius to figure out which one of the trio sent me this lovely little care package. They don't call him "The Undertaker" for nothing. Apparently the intel they were given wasn't detailed enough to show them that I couldn't drink alcohol. The whole allergy thing tends to get in the way. The bad thing is that the intel was good enough for them to know where I live. This personalized package gave me the feeling that they were working seperately. Of course, this was just a guess. I had to wait until I got some more info on them before I jumped to any conclusions.
A few hours passed and I got a phone call from one of my contacts. He told me to meet him in a bar in downtown Detroit to get the information. I knew I had to be prepared for anything so I put my Sig in a shoulder holster and put on a sport jacket so it could be reasonably concealed and not draw too much unwanted attention. It took me a half hour to get to the bar. When I arrived, I saw my contact, a retired bounty hunter by the name of Charlie Braddock. He had help me out on a few earlier contracts. Charlie had ways of getting information through the criminal channels that spread through the city of Detroit. Any time something was going down, he had ways of finding out about it. I walked my way over to his table and sat down.
"What's up Chuck?"
"It's that stuff you see on the floor of the bathroom in the back."
Charlie and I have always greeted each other like that. We both have the same twisted sense of humor.
"How are ya doin' Charlie? Vodka and caviar?"
"Gee, you shouldn't have. And its not even my birthday. What's this for?"
I lit a cigarette and said, "You remember Pavel? He's the one nicknamed The Undertaker. He sent me these along with a 6 inch coffin nail. I guess its his way of saying live it up before I kill you. I have no use for it. Enjoy it."
"Well, thanks. I'll put it to good use."
"So, what do you have for me?"
"From the information I could gather, I was able to get a fairly good idea of your russian buddies. It looks like Fetislov is going to be working alone on you. He is expected to be in the Detroit area two days from now. Sharapova and Zerebko are working as a team. They don't plan to strike unless Pavel fails. From what I could gather, Pavel is going to be using his favorites; two nickelplated colt 1911s. It appears the other two are planning to arm up once they get here so I don't yet have any idea as to what firepower you will be going against. I will check with some of the local gun dealers and have them notify me if any russians show up asking for heavy firepower. I haven't been able to find any info on the other two. I'll keep digging though and keep you updated."
"Thanks Charlie, enjoy the vodka."
"Will do. Take care Corwin."
"You too."
Knowing that I still had two days to get ready, it gave me a chance to work out a hard plan. I walked out of the bar and headed toward my car. As I got close to the parking lot, I noticed, out of the corner of my eye, that I was being followed. I lit another cigarette and continued to walk towards my car. When I reached the parking lot, I saw three more men moving carefully through the cars while keeping an eye on me. I reached into my coat and unbuttoned the restraint on the shoulder holster. I didn't want to end up having a firefight in the middle of a downtown Detroit parking lot but if I had to, I would. The men had closed in on me by the time I reached the car. I intentionally dropped my keys and as I bent down to pick them up, I placed my hand on my Sig. I then quickly turned around while drawing my weapon. I was taken by surprise when one of the men shined a bright flashlight in my eyes. One of the men on the side then kicked the Sig out of my hand and attempted to restrain me. I swung around and elbowed him in the nose and followed up by punching the man with the flashlight in the face. The third man then punched me in the kidneys and stepped down on the back of my knee, dropping me to the pavement. At that point, the man who I had first noticed, came up from behind me and placed a rag over my nose and mouth. In two breaths, I lost consiousness.
Several hours later, I woke up, face down on a bed, in a puddle of my own drool. There's nothing quite like the unmistakable aftertaste of chloroform. It tasted like someone had filled my mouth with rusty watch batteries. When I finally regained my composure, I looked around to see that I was in some dark room. There was only one light in the center of the room, right above a small alluminium table with three chairs. The bed, which was about as comfortable as my bunk was in basic training, was the only other piece of furniture. Who ever it was that got me, they didn't seem to care about where they hung out. After about a half hour of sitting on the lousy excuse for a matress, the door at the far edge of the room opened. In walked the four guys who had roughed me up and taken me. The man who chloroformed me appeared to be the one in charge.

"Sorry about the chloroform, we had to subdue you incase you didn't want to come quietly. So, Corwin, may I call you Corwin? It looks like we have some things to talk about."
"Who the hell are you people?"
"Oh, where are my manners. Allow me to introduce myself."

He then reached into his coat pocket and pulled something out and tossed it to me. It was a wallet. I picked it up and opened it. Inside was a badge and ID that read "Special Agent Walter Cain: Central Intelligence Agency"
"Ah... I see. What does the CIA want with lil' ol' me?"
"We've been following you for some time. We know all about your little problem with the Russians and cartels."
"Well thats just peachy. So what are you going to do about it?"
"We'll get to that. First, we should have a little talk."
"About what? The weather? The Lions? The Tigers? How about the economy?"
"Funny. As I said before, we have been following you for some time."
"So what are you going to do, arrest me? I thought the CIA wasn't supposed to do clandestine ops within the US."
"We don't want to arrest you. In fact, you would be amazed at how many times you have helped us."
"Ok, now I'm lost. What the hell are you talking about?"
He tosses me a list of many of my old targets, as well as the names of the people who hired me to take them out.
I took a good long look at it and said, "So what is this supposed to be, my resume?"
"The names of the ones who hired you were people who worked with us. Whether you knew it or not, on those contracts, you were working for Uncle Sam."
"Now wait just a damn minute here. I did extensive background checks on every one of these guys and nothing came up about them working for the CIA."
"Thats because they aren't exactly clocking in on punchcards at Langley. To use a stereotypical mafia phrase, we knew a guy who knew a guy who knew a guy who had a friend."
"So you're telling me that, without even knowing it, I was a hitman for a bunch of spooks?"
"You got it. There are times when we need someone taken care of and we don't want to risk the chance that if our guy was captured, it could be traced back in any way to the federal government. Thats where you came in."
"Alright Wally, why are you telling me all of this now?"
"We want to make a deal with you. You continue working for us from time to time, at a greatly reduced fee of course, you know how federal funding can be, and we offer some of our resources to help you out in this little pickle you seem to have gotten yourself into."
"Ooh, hard work for a lot less money. That just sounds grand. What if I say no?"
"Then not only will we not help you, but we will do everything in our power to stop anyone else from helping you. We also have agents in the russian mob and cartels that we could pass information to them about your location."
"Well, thats a toughy. Can I have a couple of minutes to work this one over?"
"Us or death, Corwin. Death or us."
"Shut up, I'm thinking."
The more I thought it over, the more I realized, it wasn't like I would be doing anything that different. I just knew more about the people that hired me for certain jobs now. Other than the whole less money thing, not much would really change.
"Well, Wally, I guess we have a deal. But its gonna be a contract by contract basis. I decide which ones I do. I'm not going to end up being some stooge for the spooks or anyone else."
Special Agent Cain put all the weapons he had taken from me down on the table.
"Here are your things. Would you like us to give you a ride back to your car? It's only about ten blocks west of here."
"No thanks, I've had my share of spooks for the day. I think I'll walk."
Two men escorted me to the front door and pointed me in the right direction to my car. Tomorrow was going to be a long day and I needed to get home and get some good ol' fashioned non-chloroform induced sleep.

 

[Red Dragon]

Note: For those who have read the story so far, I realize that there are some spelling issues and stuff. Keep in mind that this is only a rough draft of the story. I tend to write most after 11 pm. This is why I am looking for opinions, comments, etc. Any input, good or bad, can help me to improve the story. If you want to comment but don't want to post, just send it via Private Message.

 

[TMM]

it's great so far...

 

[Red Dragon]

The more I read over the story the more I see how the mechanics are a little off from the stories I used to write. I'm thinking the reason for this is, since I started acting, all my writing styles tended to move more towards a screenplay/script style. This sort of explains my habit of being a little bit too over-descriptive at times. As I write, I envision a movie of what I write playing in my head. That being said, I hope those of you who noticed my odd style can still enjoy the story

more to come soon

 

[Red Dragon]

This next part is a little short and kinda stops abruptly because I'm going through a bit of a brainfreeze at the moment. Hope you enjoy it.

The next day, I made my final preparations for dealing with "The Undertaker". I had an uncle who was in the cell phone business and he was able to find a phone number for Pavel. This little set of numbers became the first major step to me getting the upper hand. I called the number and sure enough, Pavel answered.
"Da, chto yavl'ayets'a etim?"
(subtitle: Yes, who is it?)
I looked at the translation software on my computer and said, "Govorite na anglijskom yazyke?"
(subtitle: Do you speak english?)
"Da, now I ask again, who is this?"
"Well well well, I thought you were better than this. You don't know the voice of your mark? And I was getting all worried."
"Corwin I presume. Did you like your little gift?"
"Oh yeah, it was nice. I used the nail to hang a really big picture."
"Funny, calling to beg for your life?"
"Yeah, you wish. I'm just calling to set a few ground rules. A courtesy if you will, hitman to hitman."
"I'm not a man without honor. I'm listening."
"If we are gonna do this, we can't do it in a public place. I don't want any innocent bystanders to be injured just because your boss wants me dead."
"This is acceptable. What do you suggest."
"There is an old abandoned hospital just off I-94 in Allen Park. We meet there and settle this. Man to man."
"I must admit, I don't usually make deals with my marks but your offer intrigues me. I accept your offer."
"Ok, then. Not to sound too over-dramatic but the next time we meet, one of us will die."
"Yes, and may the best man win."
Surprisingly, he seemed like a pretty reasonable man. Its was almost a shame that I was gonna have to kill him.Oh well, c'est la vie. Fortunately, from what I have read about Pavel, everything led me to believe that he truly was a man of his word. It's not often that you come across an opponent that is willing to play the game on a level playing field. Actually, its quite refreshing.
I spent the rest of the day getting ready for my duel to the death. I went to the abandoned hospital to get a full knowledge of my playing field. There were eighteen floors and more than three hundred rooms. As strange as it may sound, part of me was thinking that I might actually enjoy this, in a totally twisted sort of way. I returned to my place, cleaned my weapons and made all of the final fitting adjustments to my level IIIa body armor. I then went to the firing range to sharpen my shooting skills. After about 3 hours of target shooting, I went back home to get a good nights sleep.
The next morning, I woke up at around 6:30 AM. I loaded my weapons and equipment into my car and drove to the abandoned hospital, being sure not to go over the speed limit. Nothing spoils a day more than getting pulled over with a small arsenal in your car. Police tend not to appreciate things like that. I arrived at the hospital at around 8:00 AM and was happy to see that I was the first one there. I parked around the back of the hospital in the ambulance docking area. I grabbed my little bag of tricks as well as two Beretta 92F's and secured them into my double shoulder holster along with six magazines a piece in a special rig attached to each of my thighs. I set a phone down near the entrance and moved to the roof to wait for Pavel to arrive. An hour and a half, and three cigarettes later, I saw a car pull in to the hospital parking lot. I pulled out my binoculars and followed the car until it stopped near the front door. Pavel got out and walked towards the entrance. I called the cellphone, Fetislov answered.
"Da."
"Glad to see ya made it. Look up."
Fetislov looked up to see me waving from the roof.
I smiled and said, "Come and get me."

 

[Red Dragon]

I've noticed that a lot of people have looked at the post. Thanks to those who have read the story so far and thank you very much for the posting and PMs. I hope to hear more feedback. More will come.

 

[Red Dragon]

For those who read my previous post before I edited it, I changed my mind. I got past the writer's block. Here's the next part. Again, if I missed some spelling corrections, keep in mind that I'm writing it on Wordpad and doing it late at night

Fetislov dropped the cell phone and ran into the hospital. I drew my weapons and moved in as well. I ran into the stairwell and listened for Pavel to enter. I heard the door on the first floor swing open and it echoed loudly through the empty building. I mustered up as much spit as I could and spit down the center of the stairwell, listening for the *splat* sound when it hit the bottom. Moments after I heard it hit, I saw Fetislov look up and draw his weapon. I pulled my head back just as he started to fire. I fired a few shots back down the stairwell and ran back up to the roof. The game was on. I ran over to my bag of tricks and grabbed a repelling harness and quickly fitted a rope to the steel support structure. I stepped on to the ledge and leaned back, holding onto the rope with one hand and one of my Berettas with the other. It wasn't long before the roof access door swung open and Pavel stood there with his weapons drawn.
I grinned and said, "Peek-a-boo!"
I fired a round off before beginning my decent of the building. Fetislov ducked behind the steel roof access door and readied his weapon. I had decended 5 floors before Pavel reached the edge of the roof. He swung his arm down and blindly opened fire. I ran along the side of the building, doing my best to try and dodge the flying lead. I pushed off the building and fired a few rounds into a window before kicking through it. Just as I broke through the window, the rope went limp and dropped me to the floor. I quickly dropped the repelling gear and ran to the stairwell. When I opened the door, I heard Fetislov already on his way down to get me. I looked up the center of the stairwell to see that Fetislov was actually using the inside handrail as he ran down the stairs. I raised up my weapon and fired at his hand as he moved down to me. My third round was the lucky shot. I heard his scream and saw as a few drops of blood come down and hit the rail on my floor. He exited the stairway two floors up from me. The hunter was injured and the hunted now had the upper hand (if you'll excuse the pun). I ran up one floor and out into the office space. I listened as Pavel moved along on the floor above. The hospital had been abandoned for some time so the structural integrity wasn't exactly up to code, if you catch my drift. Some of the walls were crumbling and the floors creeked with every step, making it difficult to move silently at all. This being the case, I was able to follow every step that Pavel made. We both had walked almost all the way to the other end of the hospital before we came to a place where the floor had collapsed on Pavel's level, my level and the level below me. I took this as an opportunity to get a few more shots off. I moved to some of the debris near the hole on my level and waited for Fetislov to show himself. It wasn't long before he did. The first thing I notices was his tie, which was now wrapped around his left hand, becoming increasingly soaked with blood. I took aim and fired, this time hitting his left shoulder. He fell backward and once again screamed in pain. I was starting to think that for a hitman with the nickname "The Undertaker", he really wasn't living up to my expectations. It was almost as if this guy got his reputation out of a series of lucky breaks. I guess its easier to be a hitman when the people you are hired to kill don't shoot back. At that point, Pavel had two bullets in him and all I had left was to finish him off. I walked to the nearest stairway and climbed up to his floor. I opened the door to see him raising his pistol to take a shot at me. I raised mine first and shot him in his right shoulder, causing him to drop his weapon. He dropped to the floor with a thud. He was now a man who had lost all purpose. I walked up to him and he looked up at me with the eyes of a man who knew he was about to die.
"Well, it appears the best man has won. You have beaten me fair and square."
"Have any last requests?"
"Yes, I wish to be buried on my home soil."
"Consider it done. Anything else?"
"Only that you shoot me in the heart instead of the head. I wish my family to see me before I am laid to rest."
"Of course. Da svidaniya, Pavel."
"Good bye."
With that, I fired the final shot. I took my cell phone out and called a clean-up crew. I gave them the request that Pavel had given me and told them to bill me for the expenses. Normally I'm not that accommodating but the twenty million dollars made me feel a whole lot more generous. I gathered up his weapons and put them in my bag, lit up a cigarette and headed to my car. One man was down and there were four to go. The entire ordeal had taken a little more then three hours, so when I finally arrived at home, I had the rest of the day to both look back and to think about what was still ahead.

 

[english kanigit]

Thank-you-sir-may-I-have-another?!

 

[Red Dragon]

so the story's that much like torture huh?

 

[Randy in Arizona]

Red Dragon,

Thank you for your efforts!
I am enjoying the story, even with the waits between installments and such.

BTW you do a better job of composition with Wordpad than I do with a full-up copy of Word!

Where is an applause smilie when you want one?

 

[P95Carry]

Randy - take your pick!

 

[Red Dragon]

ah... if only that was for the story

 

[Red Dragon]

I'm gonna be gone this weekend. I will try to pop online from time to time but I may not be able to update the story for a couple of days. If plans change, I'll post it here. Until then, here's another part. Enjoy

The next day, I decided to sleep in. I figured it would probably take a while before Viper and Quickdraw found out that Pavel had failed. I took the opportunity to go to the range and sharpen my skills. It was about noontime when I arrived at the range. The range was about as full as one would expect at noon on a weekday. I bought a decent amount of silhouette targets and walked to the firing line. I spent about an hour firing at the center mass of the targets and then I decided to have some fun. I set the targets back another 25 yards and spent the next half hour shooting smileyfaces into the heads of the targets. With my skills sufficiently sharpened for the day, I decided to head home. When I got there, I was met with a pleasant surprise. From my parking space I saw a familiar face in my rear view mirror.
"No *beep*in' way."
I got out of my car and turned to see one of my best friends, standing there with a big grin on his face.
"Holy *beep*, Dave! How the hell are ya?"
"Keepin' busy, man. How 'bout you?"
"Well, the russian mob and cartels have all sent hitmen out to kill me, I stubbed my toe getting out of bed this morning, but other than that, I'm peachy."
"Yeah man, I heard about that."
"The hitmen thing or me stubbing my toe?"
"Good to see that being shot at hasn't effected your sense of humor. That medication must be working."
"Har har har. So seriously, what are you doing here? Last time we talked you were calling me from Ramadi."
"I got a couple of weeks of leave and I came home. I talked to Mike and he told me what was going on. I figured you could use a hand."
Aren't best friends great? He was on leave from defending the country and he chose to come and defend my sorry ass. I felt bad about getting Dave involved in my problems but I really appreciated his assistance. Knowing that my next threat was not just one hitman but two, it felt good to even the odds. I filled Dave in on all that had happened up to the point that he arrived and gave him all the information I had on Viper, Quickdraw, and the whole deal with the CIA, and he still wanted to help me. Gotta love that. Over the next few days, Dave and I tried to formulate a plan of attack. We couldn't know when to expect Viper and Quickdraw until I got a call from Charlie. And that call came in. Dave and I drove to the downtown Detroit bar to meet Charlie and get the latest intel. When we arrived, Charlie had a sullen look on his face.
"What's up Chuck?"
"That stuff your friend there almost stepped in."
Dave looked at the floor. "Eww."
"This is Dave. Dave, meet Chuck. Chuck meet Dave."
Dave waved and said, "Hi."
Chuck returned the wave and said, "Nice to meet ya."
So whadaya got for me tonight, Chuck?"
"What, no gift this time?"
"I'll give ya two next time, smartass. So what's up?"
"Well, I got bad news and worse news."
Dave and I looked at eachother and frowned.
I looked back at Charlie and said, "Well either way, its sucky news, your choice."
"Well, it looks like Yuri and Sergei just made it to town and they are stocking up on some major firepower."
Dave looked at him and said, "Is that the bad news or the worse news?"
"That's just the bad news. The worse news is that they are recruiting some local thugs to help them out. This time you two are going up against two hitmen and a goon squad."
"So Chuck, any idea on the numbers we are going up against?"
"Unfortunately, no. The intel I'm able to get is limited. I wish I could help more. I could keep digging, but I can't promise that I could come up with anything more."
"That's ok, Chuck. I think I know someone who would know. Might as well get some use out of 'em. Thanks."
Dave and I got up and left the bar, making sure not to step in the... uh... upchuck on our way out. When we got back to the car, I noticed that Dave was staring at me.
"WHAT?!"
"You're not actually gonna ask for help from some spooks?"
"Well, like I told you before, apparently I've worked for 'em before and now they want me to knowingly work for 'em for a drastically reduced rate. At least I can try and get something more out of the deal."
"Yeah, I guess it couldn't hurt to try."
"Let's go see if they are still there."
Dave looked confused and asked, "Still where?"
"Follow me."
We walked back to the building where I had taken to in my initial meeting with the CIA. There was no sign of anyone outside the building. Though I wasn't exactly expecting to see armed guys in double-breasted suits with hearpieces and sunglasses. I guess it would be kind of hard to be clandestine if you did everything short of having your name on the building. Dave and I walked up to the front door and I knocked on it three times."
"Domino's Pizza!!"
"Go away, we didn't order any pizza."
"C'mon spook, open the door."
A small metal window in the top of the door opened.
"Howdy! Remember me? I need to see Agent Wally."
With that, I heard several locks being unlocked and the door swung open.
"Can we come right in or do you have to chloroform us?"
The agent let out a frustrated sigh and said, " Just shut up and come in."
"Ooh. What's the matter? Did someone steal the pepperoni off your pizza?"
I turned to Dave and said, "After you, sir."
Dave mockingly bowed to me and said, "Why thank you, sir."

 

[Red Dragon]

Again, thanks for the comments and keep em coming. Even if its just to tell me the story sucks though that would make me and we don't want that

 

[Red Dragon]

Maybe I should have titled the story "So there he was again (uh... and stuff)

 

[Randy in Arizona]

Thank you, Red Dragon!

 

[AK-74me]

Pretty good.

 

[Red Dragon]

Next part

Enjoy!

Dave and I walked down a hallway to a door that simply had the word "BRADDOCK" written on tape and posted dead center. Seeing it kinda reminded me of those old Chuck Norris Missing In Action movies. I gave the customary three knocks on the door and Agent Cain answered with his usual cheery voice.
"What? I'm busy!"
I opened the door and Dave and I walked in.
"Trying to figure out how to get the stick removed, Wally?"
"Corwin, what do you want?"
"Hi, Wally, this is..."
"David, yes, I know."
Dave turned to me with a surprised look on his face.
"How did he..."
I looked back at Dave.
"Yeah, creepy, huh?"
"I'll ask you again, Corwin. what do you want?"
"Ok then, right to business I see. First, get your guys a gameboy or something, they're about as cheery as a funeral director. Second, I need some intel."
"Yuri and Sergei, right? They are in the city."
Dave said, "Yeah, we know that already."
"Yes, but what you don't know is that they were somehow able to set up their base of operations at the old Tiger Stadium."
Dave asked, "How the *beep* were they able to do that?"
Agent Cain tossed a folder to the end of the table. Numerous picture of Tiger Stadium spilled out.
"Since the Tigers moved to Comerica Park back in September of '99, Tiger Stadium has been left in a limbo of sorts. There's not enough in the city budget to fix it up and make it into a historical attraction, so it has been left to face the passage of time with nothing more than a single security guard in the old ticket booth. Two skilled hitmen and ten thugs would have no problem taking care of him and gaining entry to the stadium."
Dave turned to me and said, "This is our chance!"
"To do what, exactly?" I asked.
"This is our chance for a preemptive strike. If we go to them, we will have the element of surprise!"
"You and me against ten goons and two hitmen? I think we can pull it off."
"Wait, you and me? Agent Cain, how many men can you guys give us?"
Agent Cain stood up from behind his desk and said, "The CIA can't perform clandestine operations within the United States."
I smirked at Agent Cain and said, "Yeah, nice delivery there, Wally."
Wally then gave me one of those "screw you" looks.
"What we can do is supply you with weapons and equipment, as well as a detailed layout of the stadium and where we believe the goons are."
Dave looked at me and back at Agent Cain and shrugged his shoulders.
"Oh well, what the hell. I guess I'm game. What can you give us?"
"Follow me."
Agent Cain led us down the hallway until we reached a large metal door with a padlock on it as thick as my fist. He pulled a key from his shirt pocket and opened the door. Inside the room was an impressive selection of weapons and equipment. Dave and I walked into it looking like two kids in a candy store.
"Well gentlemen, the armory is yours. Take what you need and then meet me back in my office."
Dave and I nodded to Agent Cain and then began browsing the inventory. We each took a level IIIa body armor vest with front and back steel trauma plates, a handheld radio with around the neck whisper mics, a couple of flashbangs and we each took a H&K MP5SD and Beretta 92s with suppressors. We grabbed enough magazines and ammo and made our way back to Wally's office.
"Get what you need?"
Dave and I looked at eachother and nodded.
"Ok then, from what we can gather, there are two men guarding the main gates. These gates are labeled 1,2, and 3. There is also another entrance at Gate 14 here. Our intel shows two men guarding that gate as well. The arial recon we were able to do shows what we believe to be the base of operations here, in the VIP observation room. Optimal sniper positions would be here, on the roof of the press booth, and here on the roof of the VIP room, so keep movement on the field to a minimum. We were unable to determine the exact positions of the remaining men so assume they are patrolling the halls and react accordingly. While we can't give you armed support, we will be monitoring your communications and we will take care of any and all clean-up required after your objectives are complete."
I looked up at Agent Cain.
"Understood. Anything else?"
"It is two hours until sunset. I recommend moving in after dark. We will transport you to the stadium so as not to draw too much unwanted attention. You are welcome to study the blueprints further until we are ready to take you to the stadium."
"Ok, cool. Thanks Wally."
"Good luck, gentlemen."

 

[Red Dragon]

Next part

This next part was difficult to write. Fight scenes are always some of the hardest things to put to text so keep that in mind and enjoy


Over the next two hours, Dave and I studied every inch of the blueprints and checked and doublechecked the weapons and equipment. When going up against twelve badguys, the last thing you want is a weapon jam or equipment failure. We were both as ready as we possibly could be when the van came to transport us to the stadium. We had the driver drive us to gate 14 and we waited until the traffic thinned out before exiting the van. Dave and I kept our eyes focused on the two men standing behind the closed gate. Their weapons were slung over their shoulders. They weren't expecting us. Dave and I took our MP5s off of safe and placed them at the ready. I slid open the van door and Dave and I fired single shots into the goons and ran up to the gate. Dave pulled the gate up and we moved in. We dragged the goons into the main hallway so people walking by the stadium couldn't see them. No sooner had we put the goons down did we hear one of their radios go off.
**Gate 14. Check in.**
**Gate 14. Respond!**
**Williams! Griffin! Check gate 14. If those two are stoned again, shoot 'em.**
Dave and I looked at eachother.
Dave smiled and said, "Well, I guess we saved 'em the trouble."
"I have an idea. Grab pudge over there and follow me."
Dave and I picked up the bodies and Dave followed me to the nearest men's room. I put the goon I was carrying on one of the toilets and Dave did the same. We locked the stall doors, climbed over to the next stalls over, and stood on the toilets. A few minutes passed before we heard voices coming down the hallway.
"...and he was yelling at me to get out of the store, so I told him that I didn't want to shop there anyway. Ya know what I'm sayin'?"
"Yeah, man. Hey, where the hell are they?"
"I don't know. Check the bathroom."
"Yeah, I gotta take a leak anyway."
We heard one of the men come walking in. He looked at the stalls and saw the feet of the two goons we had neutralized.
"Hmm. Stoners."
He picked up the radio. "They're just in the bathroom. Nothing to worry about."
**Understood.**
He walked over to the urinals and began doing his business. Dave quietly opened his stall door and walked over to the urinals. The man was just finishing up when Dave walked to the urinal next to him.
Dave looked at the man, grinned and said, "Hello!"
Before the goon could totally understand what was happening, Dave grabbed the back of the goons head and smacked it off the tile covered wall, knocking the man unconscious. I walked out of my stall and saw Dave's handywork.
"Nicely done."
"Thank you."
"I'll get the next one."
Dave and I walked to the entrance of the bathroom. Dave stayed at the entrance to watch my back. I moved quickly and quietly behind the other goon, who was now standing at the gate, smoking. I got right behind him and put him into a sleeper hold until he too fell unconscious. I dragged him to the bathroom and put him with his buddy.
"Ok Dave, we have six goons left. You take the first level and I'll take the second one. Keep in radio contact."
"Good luck, dude."
"You too."
I walked up the stairs keeping my MP5 at the ready. Everything was clear until I came to the concession area. There were two men eating fast food at a table made out of cement blocks and a plywood board. I was moving to cover behind a concrete support when I accidently kicked a beer can on the ground, drawing a whole heap of unwanted attention my way. The men jumped up from their dinner and brought their guns up. One of them shouted "OVER THERE!" and they opened fire. I was able to get behind the support before the bullets started flying my way. I put the MP5 on auto and fired several short bursts from behind the support. The return fire continued. I grabbed a flashbang from my vest, pulled the pin, tossed it at the men, and covered my eyes. The flashbang lived up to its name. I heard the men shout out after being blinded. I ran towards them, firing round after round until the two men fell. I moved back to cover and grabbed my radio.
"Two more down, Dave. I'm heading for VIP room."
**Gotcha. I'll finish up down here and check out the press booth**
I moved quietly to the door of the VIP room. I made a quick peek around the corner and the room appeared clear. Unfortunately, appearances were deceiving. I took one step into the room and a hand came out of nowhere and quickly grabbed my MP5, pushing it back at me and slamming it into my face, knocking me to the floor. I quickly regained my composure to see the silhouette of a man standing by the doorway. I saw this shadow of a man throw my MP5 through the glass window of the VIP room. I stood up and grabbed the Beretta from the hoslter and pointed it in the direction of the shadow. Before I was able to get a shot off, a blade came flying from the darkness piercing my right bicep, causing me to drop the pistol. I yelled out in pain. Of course, you would too if someone had just imbedded a throwing knife in your arm. The shadowy man walked into the light of the hallway.
I looked at his face and recognized him instantly.
"Viper."
"Corwin."
I pulled the blade from my arm. Viper had a sadistic smile on his face.
"Are you ready to die, Corwin?"
I recalled one of the Russian swears I learned from one of my friends.
"Zhri govno i zdohni."
(subtitle: Eat uh... crap... and die.)
"And I thought this was going to be difficult."
"Hey Yuri, can I ask you something?"
"Fine. What is it?"
"Want your knife back?"
Before I even finished saying it, I threw the knife as hard and as fast as I could, straight at his face. He put his hand up to block it and the blade went into his hand right up to the hilt. He grimaced and started to pull the knife out with his other hand. As he was pulling it out, I charged at him, tackling him like a pro football player. We crashed over a table flipped, causing him to come down right on top of me. He pushed himself up and raised the throwing knife up to stab me. He thrusted it down to center mass on my chest. Fortunately, the blade hit dead center of the steel trauma plate, breaking the blade. This totally caught Viper off guard. I smiled and punched him in the face as hard as I could. He rolled off of me, grabbing his face. I stood up and kicked him in the head, knocking him out. I picked my bruised and bloody self up and walked over to the broken window. I leaned out to see where my MP5 had landed. It was sitting somewhere near 3rd base. Suddenly I heard footsteps coming at me quick. It was Yuri attempting to push me out the window. I crouched down at the last second, causing Yuri to trip landing on my back. I stood up and used Yuri's momentum to throw him out the window. He landed right near my MP5. I spit out the window as I looked down. All of a sudden, I heard a loud gunshot, followed very closely by a muffled *ping* and an earth shattering pain in my chest. It dropped my like a sack of potatoes. I could feel my heart beating in my ears as I struggled to breathe. I looked down at my chest to see a significant hole in the center of my vest. The bullet hit the rifle plate but unlike the movies, the energy carried on through to my chest. Seconds passed by like hours. I laid there on the floor trying to remain conscious. Soon I heard footsteps coming into the room. I looked up to see Sergei "Quickdraw" Zerebko standing over me pointing my own Beretta at my head. He had a smile on his face.
"Game over, Corwin."
A shot rang out. I expected to open my eyes to see a tunnel with a light at the end of it, but when I opened them, I saw Sergei clutching his chest and dropping to the floor.
**Got 'em. You ok in there, Corwin?**
I was able to suck enough air in to get a sentence out.
"Dave? Anything you ever want, for the rest of your life, is yours."
**Hang in there, man. I'll be right over.**
Dave rushed over and looked down to see my beaten ass laying there on the floor.
"Wow, you look like hell. You alright."
"All things considered...uh...no."
"Don't worry, I'll call Agent Cain and get you out of here."
"Ok....oww... I think I'll pass out now."

 

[Red Dragon]

my brain hurts