Red Dragon
Member
20 pages and I've only killed off 3 of the badguys. :banghead:
Story spin-off
- Thread starter Red Dragon
- Start date
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Red Dragon
Member
This is another short posting, but I tried to add some humor in this part. I hope you enjoy it 
Agent Cain showed up twenty minutes later with a clean-up crew and some EMT's. They fixed Dave's sratches up at the scene and loaded me onto a stretcher and into an ambulance. Fortunately, Agent Cain was able to pull a few strings when we arrived at the hospital so the local police weren't called in to do their mandatory investigation of all gunshot wounds. Wally gave 'em some kind of cover story that said I was injured in a live-fire training accident or something. The docs at the hospital stitched up the knife wound in my arm and took some X-rays of my chest. The doctor walked into my room to give me the news."
"So, what's up, doc?"
"We got the results of your X-rays back."
"So what are the damages?"
"It looks like you have a bruised sternum and a couple of bruised ribs . Its not too serious but you are gonna have to take it easy for a little while."
"So, is it always gonna hurt like this?"
"Only when you breathe."
"Ha ha ha...ow! Seriously doc, what sort of recovery time am I looking at? I kinda have a lot on my plate right now."
"Full recovery should take three to six weeks. We are gonna give you something for the pain, but that is no excuse for going out and getting yourself hurt again."
"Yeah yeah yeah. It's not something thats gonna dope me up, is it?"
"No, though its a mild narcotic so be careful when driving and avoid alcohol when taking it."
"Don't worry about alcohol, doc. Can't drink it."
"All the better. A nurse will be in to give you a final check, and as far as I'm concerned, you're cleared to leave."
"Okie dokie, doc. Thanks."
I changed into my street clothes and went to the front desk to check out. Being a hitman isn't exactly covered by medicaid, so I was not looking forward to the bill. I dropped my bag of personal items on the counter and asked the receptionist what the damages were.
"Sir, it looks like your account has been taken care of."
"Uh...ok, how did that happen?"
"A man by the name of Walter Cain paid for the bill."
"Wally?"
I was totally taken by surprise to find out that he paid my bill. I was starting to think that working for him might actually start having some perks. I was almost starting to respect him. I was even considering calling him Walter or even Agent Cain to his face from now on. I picked up my things and headed for the exit. When I reached the waiting room, I saw Dave sitting there, reading a "Guns and Ammo" magazine. He walked up to me and asked me how I was doing. I showed him the prescription and grinned. He smiled back and we walked out to the parking lot. Dave was nice enough to go get my car and park it at the hospital. He tossed me the keys and I tossed them right back.
"You drive."
I shook the bottle of pills toward him.
"Oh yeah."
Dave drove me back to my place and he filled me in on all that had gone down from the time I passed out to the point I met him in the waiting room. We ordered a pizza and filled eachother in on our experiences at the stadium after we split up. After that, I spent the rest of the night telling Dave how lucky I was that he was there to save my butt. I spent the next few days trying my best not to injure myself any further and nothing new came up concerning the last two speedbumps in my road to self-preservation. When I finally felt well enough, I popped a couple of pain pills and invited Dave to join me for 18 holes of golf. He gladly accepted and we went to the local 18 hole course. The front nine holes went quite well for the both of us. I was a little goofy from taking the medication but, fortunately it didn't interfere too much with my game. When we reached hole twelve, things went down hill. Dave and I were hitting our second shots when all of a sudden, a golfball came barreling down on us from the twelfth tee. The ball hit our cart and ricochetted dangerously close to Dave's head. We turned around to see a man angrily walking towards us. He was randomly swinging his club in the air. When he finally approached us, he began yelling various obscenities and shaking his fist at us.
"What the hell?! What did you do with my ball?!"
I looked at him with fire in my eyes.
"What the hell is your problem. Do you have any idea how to play golf?"
"I know all I need to know, now get the hell out of my way!"
Dave just stood there with his jaw hung open. Totally taken back at this guy's attitude. The man then reached into his golf bag and pulled out a bottle of beer. He ripped the cap off and downed the entire bottle, throwing it onto the fairway when he finished. He walked up to his ball, which was now resting not two feet from Dave, and swung, coming dangerously close to hitting him. His ball flew fairly far down the fairway then started to break to the right, landing just in the tree line.
"Damnit to hell!"
He swung his club into the ground making a hole in what was an otherwise perfect fairway. He pushed Dave out of the way.
"MOVE!"
He then stormed down the fairway, swearing the entire way. I looked at Dave with a mildly drug-induced evil grin on my face.
"No, Corwin, its not worth it."
"This guy needs to be taught a lesson, Dave."
"C'mon, let him go. He's just a moron who doesn't know the etiquette for golfing."
"I'll teach it to him."
I reached into my pocket and pulled out another golfball. I dropped it on the fairway and grabbed my driver. I took aim on the guy who had almost hit us. Dave stood there, grinning as he tried to talk me out of it.
"No, dude, don't."
Dave was now trying to hold back laughter.
"Ready, Dave?"
"Aww hell, go ahead."
With that, I took a long backswing and hit the ball right on the sweetspot, sending it flying right where I wanted to. I waited until the ball was just about to come down on the guy and yelled, "Hey!". The man looked up just in time to feel the full impact of a golfball hitting him square in the forehead. He fell like a rock into the treeline, knocked unconscious. I put my club back in the bag and turned to Dave.
"Looks like he's gonna let us play through."
Dave smiled and hit his ball, knocking it straight down the fairway, about 60 yards from the green. I hit my "game" ball and it landed just behind Dave's. We jumped into our cart and continued down to the green. We stopped by the now unconscious man and I moved him and his bag completely in the treeline. I pulled out a little piece of paper and wrote the word "fore" on it and placed it on his chest. Dave and I continued our game and finished with respectable scores. All in all, I would have to say it was a good day of golf.
Agent Cain showed up twenty minutes later with a clean-up crew and some EMT's. They fixed Dave's sratches up at the scene and loaded me onto a stretcher and into an ambulance. Fortunately, Agent Cain was able to pull a few strings when we arrived at the hospital so the local police weren't called in to do their mandatory investigation of all gunshot wounds. Wally gave 'em some kind of cover story that said I was injured in a live-fire training accident or something. The docs at the hospital stitched up the knife wound in my arm and took some X-rays of my chest. The doctor walked into my room to give me the news."
"So, what's up, doc?"
"We got the results of your X-rays back."
"So what are the damages?"
"It looks like you have a bruised sternum and a couple of bruised ribs . Its not too serious but you are gonna have to take it easy for a little while."
"So, is it always gonna hurt like this?"
"Only when you breathe."
"Ha ha ha...ow! Seriously doc, what sort of recovery time am I looking at? I kinda have a lot on my plate right now."
"Full recovery should take three to six weeks. We are gonna give you something for the pain, but that is no excuse for going out and getting yourself hurt again."
"Yeah yeah yeah. It's not something thats gonna dope me up, is it?"
"No, though its a mild narcotic so be careful when driving and avoid alcohol when taking it."
"Don't worry about alcohol, doc. Can't drink it."
"All the better. A nurse will be in to give you a final check, and as far as I'm concerned, you're cleared to leave."
"Okie dokie, doc. Thanks."
I changed into my street clothes and went to the front desk to check out. Being a hitman isn't exactly covered by medicaid, so I was not looking forward to the bill. I dropped my bag of personal items on the counter and asked the receptionist what the damages were.
"Sir, it looks like your account has been taken care of."
"Uh...ok, how did that happen?"
"A man by the name of Walter Cain paid for the bill."
"Wally?"
I was totally taken by surprise to find out that he paid my bill. I was starting to think that working for him might actually start having some perks. I was almost starting to respect him. I was even considering calling him Walter or even Agent Cain to his face from now on. I picked up my things and headed for the exit. When I reached the waiting room, I saw Dave sitting there, reading a "Guns and Ammo" magazine. He walked up to me and asked me how I was doing. I showed him the prescription and grinned. He smiled back and we walked out to the parking lot. Dave was nice enough to go get my car and park it at the hospital. He tossed me the keys and I tossed them right back.
"You drive."
I shook the bottle of pills toward him.
"Oh yeah."
Dave drove me back to my place and he filled me in on all that had gone down from the time I passed out to the point I met him in the waiting room. We ordered a pizza and filled eachother in on our experiences at the stadium after we split up. After that, I spent the rest of the night telling Dave how lucky I was that he was there to save my butt. I spent the next few days trying my best not to injure myself any further and nothing new came up concerning the last two speedbumps in my road to self-preservation. When I finally felt well enough, I popped a couple of pain pills and invited Dave to join me for 18 holes of golf. He gladly accepted and we went to the local 18 hole course. The front nine holes went quite well for the both of us. I was a little goofy from taking the medication but, fortunately it didn't interfere too much with my game. When we reached hole twelve, things went down hill. Dave and I were hitting our second shots when all of a sudden, a golfball came barreling down on us from the twelfth tee. The ball hit our cart and ricochetted dangerously close to Dave's head. We turned around to see a man angrily walking towards us. He was randomly swinging his club in the air. When he finally approached us, he began yelling various obscenities and shaking his fist at us.
"What the hell?! What did you do with my ball?!"
I looked at him with fire in my eyes.
"What the hell is your problem. Do you have any idea how to play golf?"
"I know all I need to know, now get the hell out of my way!"
Dave just stood there with his jaw hung open. Totally taken back at this guy's attitude. The man then reached into his golf bag and pulled out a bottle of beer. He ripped the cap off and downed the entire bottle, throwing it onto the fairway when he finished. He walked up to his ball, which was now resting not two feet from Dave, and swung, coming dangerously close to hitting him. His ball flew fairly far down the fairway then started to break to the right, landing just in the tree line.
"Damnit to hell!"
He swung his club into the ground making a hole in what was an otherwise perfect fairway. He pushed Dave out of the way.
"MOVE!"
He then stormed down the fairway, swearing the entire way. I looked at Dave with a mildly drug-induced evil grin on my face.
"No, Corwin, its not worth it."
"This guy needs to be taught a lesson, Dave."
"C'mon, let him go. He's just a moron who doesn't know the etiquette for golfing."
"I'll teach it to him."
I reached into my pocket and pulled out another golfball. I dropped it on the fairway and grabbed my driver. I took aim on the guy who had almost hit us. Dave stood there, grinning as he tried to talk me out of it.
"No, dude, don't."
Dave was now trying to hold back laughter.
"Ready, Dave?"
"Aww hell, go ahead."
With that, I took a long backswing and hit the ball right on the sweetspot, sending it flying right where I wanted to. I waited until the ball was just about to come down on the guy and yelled, "Hey!". The man looked up just in time to feel the full impact of a golfball hitting him square in the forehead. He fell like a rock into the treeline, knocked unconscious. I put my club back in the bag and turned to Dave.
"Looks like he's gonna let us play through."
Dave smiled and hit his ball, knocking it straight down the fairway, about 60 yards from the green. I hit my "game" ball and it landed just behind Dave's. We jumped into our cart and continued down to the green. We stopped by the now unconscious man and I moved him and his bag completely in the treeline. I pulled out a little piece of paper and wrote the word "fore" on it and placed it on his chest. Dave and I continued our game and finished with respectable scores. All in all, I would have to say it was a good day of golf.
Red Dragon
Member
Okie Dokie, again, the weekend has come and I may or may not be able to update the story until monday. I'll check in from time to time this weekend and may post here and there. Hope all of you who have read the story so far have enjoyed it and I will try to get another segment up as soon as I can.
Red Dragon
Member
Having a few computer issues. next part of the story will be up soon.
Red Dragon
Member
Update coming soon
Red Dragon
Member
Sorry that its been so long since I updated the story. I've had some minor medical problems that I've been dealing with. New parts of the story will be coming soon.
Red Dragon
Member
I know that it has been a long time since I added to the story. The truth is, I was having some health issues for a little while and then I had some other stuff to deal with and I didn't have a chance to write more to the story. I now have some time and I will try to finish the story pretty soon. All who have read the story so far and liked it, don't worry, more to come soon.
Randy in Arizona
Member
Red Dragon,
We will wait with varying degrees of impatience, but (whine) what else can we do? After all (sniff) we don't have a contract or anything. We just check 5 or 6 times a day (snivel) to see if you have posted our latest 'Spin-off' fix.
I mean don't feel guilty or anything just cause you haven't got the time to write any more of our favorite THR story. We'll just try not to get too disappointed each time there is nothing new! :banghead: :banghead: :banghead: :banghead: :banghead: :banghead:
Just jerking your chain,
Get through your problems and when you have the time, write some more - PLEASE!
We will wait with varying degrees of impatience, but (whine) what else can we do? After all (sniff) we don't have a contract or anything. We just check 5 or 6 times a day (snivel) to see if you have posted our latest 'Spin-off' fix.
I mean don't feel guilty or anything just cause you haven't got the time to write any more of our favorite THR story. We'll just try not to get too disappointed each time there is nothing new! :banghead: :banghead: :banghead: :banghead: :banghead: :banghead:
Just jerking your chain,
Get through your problems and when you have the time, write some more - PLEASE!
Red Dragon
Member
next part
(work in progress)
sort of a short one
Not long after our day of golf, the day came when Dave's leave was over and he had to return to Iraq. I was sad to see him go but his tour over there would be ending soon, so that made things a little easier. I dropped Dave off at the airport, we said our goodbyes and I headed back to my car. One of the many ways I said thank you to Dave was to secretly upgrade all of his flights to first class. The last few days we had hung out together had almost made me forget that there were still two more hitmen trying to kill me. As I got to my parking space at the airport, I got a violent reminder when my cell phone rang.
"This is Corwin."
"You have a lovely family, Corwin."
I immediately recognized the voice of Jose Gomez. He was calling from the house I grew up in, in the Upper Penninsula of Michigan. Gomez has been out to kill me for a long time now. His hatred for me started when I was hired to take out his former boss and I ended up taking Gomez's brother down as well. I knew full well that he would kill my family without hesitation. A silent rage filled me and I nearly crushed my phone from squeezing it so hard.
"You harm one hair on my family's heads, and I promise you, Gomez, I will hunt you down and kill you so slowly, you will think its a career."
"Your threats don't frighten me, Corwin. Be here by tonight or your family is dead."
*CLICK*
At that point, I ws using whatever strength I had to contain my rage. I needed to charter a plane. There was no way a commercial airline would allow me to bring the weapons I was going to use to silence Jose Gomez for good. Coming after me is one thing. But when you come after my family, you are looking to be in a special kind of hurt. The kind of hurt where you beg for death, but it never comes. This just got real personal. The fortunate thing was that I was already at the airport and I was able to get in touch with Agent Cain to get me the equipment I was gonna need.
I found a charter company and paid the pilot enough cash for a "no questions asked" trip to the U.P. Agent Cain arrived and we loaded up the equipment. He gave me the name of a contact there that could get me the information I needed. I thanked him for the help and I was on my way. The flight took a little under three hours to get there. It gave me just enough time to clear my head enough that I didn't go into this fight blinded by the rage. When I arrived at the Houghton County Airport, I saw a man standing by the terminal holding a sign with my name on it. I carefully approached the man and he handed me an envelope. Inside was a polaroid of my mother and step-father, tied up and blindfolded. There was also a letter that said:
CORWIN
YOU KNOW FULL WELL WHAT I AM CAPABLE OF DOING SO
YOU WILL DO EXACTLY WHAT I TELL YOU TO DO. YOU WILL
MEET ME AT THE STEAM HOIST ON QUINCY HILL AT 11. COME
ALONE. IF YOU BRING ANYONE ELSE, YOUR FAMILY DIES. IF
YOU FAIL TO ARRIVE AT 11, YOUR FAMILY DIES. YOU WILL
PAY FOR WHAT YOU DID TO MY BROTHER, ONE WAY OR
ANOTHER. WITH YOUR DEATH COMES RETRIBUTION. TONIGHT
YOU DIE.
The man then turned and walked away. I unloaded my equipment from the plane and brought it to the car I rented. As i was loading it in the trunk, a woman in a business suit approached me. She reached into her suit jacket pocket. I quickly drew a weapon and pointed it at her head. She raised her other hand and slowly pulled out what looked like a wallet. She flashed her badge and said,
"I wasn't sure if you were Corwin or not, but that gun pointed at my head confirms my assumption. I'm Special Agent Monro. Agent Cain filled me in on your situation. You may want to lower your weapon, it draws unwanted attention to us."
I lowered my handgun and put it in a concealed holster.
"I don't have much time Agent Monro, give me what you have so I can be on my way."
Agent Monro reached into her briefcase and pulled out a folder. She cut the seal and handed it to me.
"As you said, Corwin, you don't have much time. You can read this on the way. All you need to know is inside."
"Thank you, Agent Monro."
"If you need anything else, here is my card. Good luck."
(work in progress)
sort of a short one
Not long after our day of golf, the day came when Dave's leave was over and he had to return to Iraq. I was sad to see him go but his tour over there would be ending soon, so that made things a little easier. I dropped Dave off at the airport, we said our goodbyes and I headed back to my car. One of the many ways I said thank you to Dave was to secretly upgrade all of his flights to first class. The last few days we had hung out together had almost made me forget that there were still two more hitmen trying to kill me. As I got to my parking space at the airport, I got a violent reminder when my cell phone rang.
"This is Corwin."
"You have a lovely family, Corwin."
I immediately recognized the voice of Jose Gomez. He was calling from the house I grew up in, in the Upper Penninsula of Michigan. Gomez has been out to kill me for a long time now. His hatred for me started when I was hired to take out his former boss and I ended up taking Gomez's brother down as well. I knew full well that he would kill my family without hesitation. A silent rage filled me and I nearly crushed my phone from squeezing it so hard.
"You harm one hair on my family's heads, and I promise you, Gomez, I will hunt you down and kill you so slowly, you will think its a career."
"Your threats don't frighten me, Corwin. Be here by tonight or your family is dead."
*CLICK*
At that point, I ws using whatever strength I had to contain my rage. I needed to charter a plane. There was no way a commercial airline would allow me to bring the weapons I was going to use to silence Jose Gomez for good. Coming after me is one thing. But when you come after my family, you are looking to be in a special kind of hurt. The kind of hurt where you beg for death, but it never comes. This just got real personal. The fortunate thing was that I was already at the airport and I was able to get in touch with Agent Cain to get me the equipment I was gonna need.
I found a charter company and paid the pilot enough cash for a "no questions asked" trip to the U.P. Agent Cain arrived and we loaded up the equipment. He gave me the name of a contact there that could get me the information I needed. I thanked him for the help and I was on my way. The flight took a little under three hours to get there. It gave me just enough time to clear my head enough that I didn't go into this fight blinded by the rage. When I arrived at the Houghton County Airport, I saw a man standing by the terminal holding a sign with my name on it. I carefully approached the man and he handed me an envelope. Inside was a polaroid of my mother and step-father, tied up and blindfolded. There was also a letter that said:
CORWIN
YOU KNOW FULL WELL WHAT I AM CAPABLE OF DOING SO
YOU WILL DO EXACTLY WHAT I TELL YOU TO DO. YOU WILL
MEET ME AT THE STEAM HOIST ON QUINCY HILL AT 11. COME
ALONE. IF YOU BRING ANYONE ELSE, YOUR FAMILY DIES. IF
YOU FAIL TO ARRIVE AT 11, YOUR FAMILY DIES. YOU WILL
PAY FOR WHAT YOU DID TO MY BROTHER, ONE WAY OR
ANOTHER. WITH YOUR DEATH COMES RETRIBUTION. TONIGHT
YOU DIE.
The man then turned and walked away. I unloaded my equipment from the plane and brought it to the car I rented. As i was loading it in the trunk, a woman in a business suit approached me. She reached into her suit jacket pocket. I quickly drew a weapon and pointed it at her head. She raised her other hand and slowly pulled out what looked like a wallet. She flashed her badge and said,
"I wasn't sure if you were Corwin or not, but that gun pointed at my head confirms my assumption. I'm Special Agent Monro. Agent Cain filled me in on your situation. You may want to lower your weapon, it draws unwanted attention to us."
I lowered my handgun and put it in a concealed holster.
"I don't have much time Agent Monro, give me what you have so I can be on my way."
Agent Monro reached into her briefcase and pulled out a folder. She cut the seal and handed it to me.
"As you said, Corwin, you don't have much time. You can read this on the way. All you need to know is inside."
"Thank you, Agent Monro."
"If you need anything else, here is my card. Good luck."
Red Dragon
Member
no update yet. Trying to work with my outline a bit. More soon though
jobu07
Contributing Member
Still waiting...
Red Dragon
Member
next part
Enjoy
I took her card and got in the car. The steam hoist was only about 5 miles away so it didn't take long for me to arrive. The Quincy Steam Hoist is a local tourist attraction. Its the world's largest steam driven mine hoist. It was used during the copper mining boom that ran from the mid 1800's to the early 1900's. It has since been turned into a historical park. The hoist is surrounded by all sorts of mining buildings and railroad artifacts. I had been there many times as a child and I knew every single nook and crannie of the entire park. This gave me an advantage. I parked my car behind what was left of one of the mining buildings and looked at the folder. Inside were pictures of Gomez dated all the way back from before I killed his brother up to the time he arrived in the upper penninsula. There was also his lengthy "hitman resume". Once I read the whole file, I went to the trunk and started arming myself. As I was placing my throwing knives in my thigh holster, a thought hit me.
This wasn't really the way I wanted my parents to find out what I did for a living. For all they knew, I was in between jobs and living off the dollar menu at McDonalds. Although, nothing says "I love you" like being saved from a psychotic madman bent on personal revenge, so whats the worst they could say after they find out.
I did a functions check of all my weapons and made sure I had enough ammo, then I moved to the top of the steam hoist. I looked at my watch, it was 10:45 pm. I pulled my binoculars out from my vest pocket and looked down the highway to see a vehicle approaching. I followed it to the entrance of the museum parking lot. I saw Gomez step out of the car and pull something out of his pocket. I unslung the custom-made suppressed PSG-1 and took aim. Just as I switched the safety off, my cell phone rang. I answered to hear Gomez on the other side.
"Its approaching 11, Corwin. I don't see you here."
"No, Jose, but I see you."
I flipped on the laser dot sight and aimed it at his chest. Jose looked up to see where the laser was originating from. He waved at me and pulled a small object from his pocket. He pulled the pin and squeezed the device.
"
What you just witnessed was me squeezing a deadman's switch that is wired to 200 pounds of explosives inside this car, a car which happens to have your parents in the trunk. You're not going to pull that trigger, Corwin."
Damn it. So much for easy. If I pull the trigger, he drops the switch, the car blows and my parents go bye-bye. I turned the laser dot sight off and leaned the rifle against the railing.
"If you release that switch, not only will I kill you, I will hunt down and kill everyone you have ever known and loved."
"Glad to see that I have your attention, Corwin. Here is how this is going to go down. First, you are going to come down from your little nest and face me. We'll continue from there."
I climbed down the ladders inside the steam hoist and came out of the main entrance. I kept my hand on my Ruger P89, ready to draw it at a moments notice. I carefully approached the parking lot, prepared for just about anything. When I arrived, Jose was standing there with a grin on his face.
"Alright, now take all of your guns and toss them in there."
Jose pointed to a garbage bin.
I reluctantly did as he said and tossed my guns into the dumpster. Gomez pulled out a large knife.
"Now, choose one blade and throw the rest in with your guns."
I removed my throwing knives and threw them in with my guns. I then reached behind my back and pulled out my 8" blade Ka-bar. Gomez put a locking pin into the detonator and placed it in his pocket.
"I will take great joy in feeling my blade slice through your flesh, Corwin."
"You'll never get that close, Gomez."
Suddenly, he rushed me, knife ready to slice diagonally from my right shoulder to my left leg. I rotated my Ka-bar so the blade faced downward and blocked his first strike. He followed up with strike after strike until he slipped. He started to fall forward and I landed a solid blow to his chin with my open hand. As he fell to the ground, he took a blind swing and caught me in the thigh. Fortunately the cut wasn't too deep but it caused me to back off as he stood up. He charged me again and I blocked each of his attacks and then landed a good slice to his upper arm. We traded blows back and forth for some time until Gomez made his fatal mistake. As he made a desparation move to stab me and overextended his thrust, throwing himself off balance. I grabbed his extended arm and flipped him over my shoulder. He landed on his back and before he was even able to blink, the 8" blade of my Ka-bar was against his throat.
"It's over, Gomez. You lost."
Jose Gomez was gasping for air as he reached into his pocket. He pulled the detonator out and started to laugh. He was about to release the switch when I grabbed his hand and held it closed.
"Bad move, Gomez."
I pulled the knife across his throat, ending his laughing for good. With my free hand, I reached into his pocket and pulled out the locking pin and his car keys. I placed the locking pin in the detonator and took my weapons out of the dumpster. I walked carefully to the car and unlocked the truck. My parents were tied up and blindfolded. I leaned over and pulled my mom's blindfold off. She looked up and saw me. There was a very confused look on her face. This was understandable. I helped my mother and stepfather out of the trunk and got them away from the car. My mother immediately wanted to know what was going on, as any mother would after finding out her son is a hitman.
"Oh boy. Uh...well....I...um....hmm. Tell ya what, let me make a quick
phonecall and then I'll fill you guys in on the ride home."
Before my parents could respond, I pulled out Agent Monro's card and called her to fill her in on the bomb in the car. She sent someone over to take care of it. I gave the man the detonator and escorted my parents to the rental car. I spent the next few hours trying to explain to my parents how I got into my chosen profession. To be honest, it was easier dealing with the hitmen trying to kill me than it was trying to answer my mom's questions.
Enjoy
I took her card and got in the car. The steam hoist was only about 5 miles away so it didn't take long for me to arrive. The Quincy Steam Hoist is a local tourist attraction. Its the world's largest steam driven mine hoist. It was used during the copper mining boom that ran from the mid 1800's to the early 1900's. It has since been turned into a historical park. The hoist is surrounded by all sorts of mining buildings and railroad artifacts. I had been there many times as a child and I knew every single nook and crannie of the entire park. This gave me an advantage. I parked my car behind what was left of one of the mining buildings and looked at the folder. Inside were pictures of Gomez dated all the way back from before I killed his brother up to the time he arrived in the upper penninsula. There was also his lengthy "hitman resume". Once I read the whole file, I went to the trunk and started arming myself. As I was placing my throwing knives in my thigh holster, a thought hit me.
This wasn't really the way I wanted my parents to find out what I did for a living. For all they knew, I was in between jobs and living off the dollar menu at McDonalds. Although, nothing says "I love you" like being saved from a psychotic madman bent on personal revenge, so whats the worst they could say after they find out.
I did a functions check of all my weapons and made sure I had enough ammo, then I moved to the top of the steam hoist. I looked at my watch, it was 10:45 pm. I pulled my binoculars out from my vest pocket and looked down the highway to see a vehicle approaching. I followed it to the entrance of the museum parking lot. I saw Gomez step out of the car and pull something out of his pocket. I unslung the custom-made suppressed PSG-1 and took aim. Just as I switched the safety off, my cell phone rang. I answered to hear Gomez on the other side.
"Its approaching 11, Corwin. I don't see you here."
"No, Jose, but I see you."
I flipped on the laser dot sight and aimed it at his chest. Jose looked up to see where the laser was originating from. He waved at me and pulled a small object from his pocket. He pulled the pin and squeezed the device.
"
What you just witnessed was me squeezing a deadman's switch that is wired to 200 pounds of explosives inside this car, a car which happens to have your parents in the trunk. You're not going to pull that trigger, Corwin."
Damn it. So much for easy. If I pull the trigger, he drops the switch, the car blows and my parents go bye-bye. I turned the laser dot sight off and leaned the rifle against the railing.
"If you release that switch, not only will I kill you, I will hunt down and kill everyone you have ever known and loved."
"Glad to see that I have your attention, Corwin. Here is how this is going to go down. First, you are going to come down from your little nest and face me. We'll continue from there."
I climbed down the ladders inside the steam hoist and came out of the main entrance. I kept my hand on my Ruger P89, ready to draw it at a moments notice. I carefully approached the parking lot, prepared for just about anything. When I arrived, Jose was standing there with a grin on his face.
"Alright, now take all of your guns and toss them in there."
Jose pointed to a garbage bin.
I reluctantly did as he said and tossed my guns into the dumpster. Gomez pulled out a large knife.
"Now, choose one blade and throw the rest in with your guns."
I removed my throwing knives and threw them in with my guns. I then reached behind my back and pulled out my 8" blade Ka-bar. Gomez put a locking pin into the detonator and placed it in his pocket.
"I will take great joy in feeling my blade slice through your flesh, Corwin."
"You'll never get that close, Gomez."
Suddenly, he rushed me, knife ready to slice diagonally from my right shoulder to my left leg. I rotated my Ka-bar so the blade faced downward and blocked his first strike. He followed up with strike after strike until he slipped. He started to fall forward and I landed a solid blow to his chin with my open hand. As he fell to the ground, he took a blind swing and caught me in the thigh. Fortunately the cut wasn't too deep but it caused me to back off as he stood up. He charged me again and I blocked each of his attacks and then landed a good slice to his upper arm. We traded blows back and forth for some time until Gomez made his fatal mistake. As he made a desparation move to stab me and overextended his thrust, throwing himself off balance. I grabbed his extended arm and flipped him over my shoulder. He landed on his back and before he was even able to blink, the 8" blade of my Ka-bar was against his throat.
"It's over, Gomez. You lost."
Jose Gomez was gasping for air as he reached into his pocket. He pulled the detonator out and started to laugh. He was about to release the switch when I grabbed his hand and held it closed.
"Bad move, Gomez."
I pulled the knife across his throat, ending his laughing for good. With my free hand, I reached into his pocket and pulled out the locking pin and his car keys. I placed the locking pin in the detonator and took my weapons out of the dumpster. I walked carefully to the car and unlocked the truck. My parents were tied up and blindfolded. I leaned over and pulled my mom's blindfold off. She looked up and saw me. There was a very confused look on her face. This was understandable. I helped my mother and stepfather out of the trunk and got them away from the car. My mother immediately wanted to know what was going on, as any mother would after finding out her son is a hitman.
"Oh boy. Uh...well....I...um....hmm. Tell ya what, let me make a quick
phonecall and then I'll fill you guys in on the ride home."
Before my parents could respond, I pulled out Agent Monro's card and called her to fill her in on the bomb in the car. She sent someone over to take care of it. I gave the man the detonator and escorted my parents to the rental car. I spent the next few hours trying to explain to my parents how I got into my chosen profession. To be honest, it was easier dealing with the hitmen trying to kill me than it was trying to answer my mom's questions.
Red Dragon
Member
no update yet, to be honest, I'm kinda having a case of writer's block. This next part is supposed to be the Finale, the final hitman, I don't want the story to suffer the fate of many "coulda-been-good" movies. What I'm speaking of is "Weak ending syndrome". there are many movies and stories out there that could have been pretty good except for a weak ending. So if a weak ending can ruin a potentially great story or movie, imagine what a weak ending would do to my mediocre story
Hang in there, the next part is coming sooner or later
Thanks for reading and I hope you have enjoyed it so far.
Red Dragon
aka "Corwin" *wink *wink
Hang in there, the next part is coming sooner or later
Thanks for reading and I hope you have enjoyed it so far.
Red Dragon
aka "Corwin" *wink *wink
Red Dragon
Member
Ok, I know its been a while since I wrote any more to the story. I've been busy trying to find a job. Still no luck there yet. I did write a screenplay, but it doesn't have much as far as gunplay in it so I won't be posting it here. Anyway, the story will be finished soon. Here is what may or may not be the second to last part. Enjoy.
After a couple of days of explaining to my mom “where I went wrong”, I caught a plane back to the Detroit area. I walked back to my car and headed home. When I got to my front door, I took a deep breath and walked in. The condo was completely dark, which was strange because my computer monitor is usually on. I turned to my closet to hang up my coat. I sensed that there was someone behind me.
“Hello Bill.”
“Corwin.”
“Been waiting long?”
“A couple of hours. How was your flight?”
“Peachy. Want a beer.”
“I already grabbed one. I ordered a pizza too. It should be here in about 10 minutes.”
“Good, I haven’t eaten all day.”
I closed the closet door and started turning on the lights. I tossed my bag on the kitchen table and sat down on the couch. Bill walked behind me and sat down on the chair.
“So, Corwin, I see you made it through all the other guys.”
“Did you ever doubt me?”
“For about a minute, when ol’ Quickdraw was standing over you.”
“You were there, huh?”
“Yep, and at the old hospital too. That whole phonecall from the roof thing was a nice touch.”
“Yeah, wasn’t it?”
Then the doorbell rang.
“Oh, hey, that must be the pizza. Hey Corwin, wanna mess with the pizza guy?”
“Sure, why not.”
Bill threw on a black hat and grabbed a walkie-talkie and jumped off the balcony. He ran around to the front of the condo and snuck up on the pizza guy.
“Hey, kid! What are you doing here?”
“Uh...delivering a pizza, sir.”
“A pizza?! Yeah right, up against the wall and spread em.”
Bill pushed the pizza delivery kid up against the wall and started to frisk him.
“Sir, I’m just a pizza guy. I don’t know what you are looking for.”
“Just a pizza guy, huh? Well we’ll see.”
Bill slowly opened the pizza box.
“Hmm, pepperoni and green peppers.”
Bill pulled the walkie-talkie out of his pocket.
“Control, false alarm. It’s just a pizza guy.”
“Uh...what’s going on?”
Bill pulled the kid up from the wall and straightened his jacket.
“Do you have any idea who lives here? This man has killed more people than you have ever met. We have been watching him for 3 days. It’s lucky I caught you before he did or we would be picking what’s left of you off the bottom of Ford Lake. Now, put the pizza down and get out of here. Be thankful that you still have your life.”
The pizza kid started shaking and put the pizza down. He ran back to his car and peeled out. Bill picked up the pizza box and walked in the front door.
“That never gets old.”
“Did this one pee his pants?”
“Nope, not this time.”
“You’re losing your touch.”
Bill put the pizza down on the coffee table and we both started to eat.
“So, Bill, how much am I worth to the cartel? I know they already paid Sammy five million. How much are they paying you?”
“Ten five. I told ‘em I would have done it for free.”
“Oh gee, thanks Bill.”
“Why do you care how much they are paying me? You aren’t gonna do that whole beg and bargain thing are you?”
“Oh please, what kind of hitman do you take me for? I just wanted to know how much of a thorn I am in the Cartel’s side.”
“Well, I can understand that.”
“So, when do you want to do this?”
“Whenever you’re ready to die, Corwin.”
“Oh, gimme a break.”
“Sorry. It’s up to you.”
“How about tomorrow, noon, I wanna sleep in. It’s been a long day.”
“Fine, where?”
“The park, down the street. It’s closed for the season so we won’t be bothered.”
“Fine.”
“Thanks for the pizza, Bill. Now get the hell out.”
“Ok, see ya tomorrow.”
“Yep. Tomorrow.”
Bill grabbed his things and left. The endgame was near. It was either going to be Bill or me. I needed some sleep.
After a couple of days of explaining to my mom “where I went wrong”, I caught a plane back to the Detroit area. I walked back to my car and headed home. When I got to my front door, I took a deep breath and walked in. The condo was completely dark, which was strange because my computer monitor is usually on. I turned to my closet to hang up my coat. I sensed that there was someone behind me.
“Hello Bill.”
“Corwin.”
“Been waiting long?”
“A couple of hours. How was your flight?”
“Peachy. Want a beer.”
“I already grabbed one. I ordered a pizza too. It should be here in about 10 minutes.”
“Good, I haven’t eaten all day.”
I closed the closet door and started turning on the lights. I tossed my bag on the kitchen table and sat down on the couch. Bill walked behind me and sat down on the chair.
“So, Corwin, I see you made it through all the other guys.”
“Did you ever doubt me?”
“For about a minute, when ol’ Quickdraw was standing over you.”
“You were there, huh?”
“Yep, and at the old hospital too. That whole phonecall from the roof thing was a nice touch.”
“Yeah, wasn’t it?”
Then the doorbell rang.
“Oh, hey, that must be the pizza. Hey Corwin, wanna mess with the pizza guy?”
“Sure, why not.”
Bill threw on a black hat and grabbed a walkie-talkie and jumped off the balcony. He ran around to the front of the condo and snuck up on the pizza guy.
“Hey, kid! What are you doing here?”
“Uh...delivering a pizza, sir.”
“A pizza?! Yeah right, up against the wall and spread em.”
Bill pushed the pizza delivery kid up against the wall and started to frisk him.
“Sir, I’m just a pizza guy. I don’t know what you are looking for.”
“Just a pizza guy, huh? Well we’ll see.”
Bill slowly opened the pizza box.
“Hmm, pepperoni and green peppers.”
Bill pulled the walkie-talkie out of his pocket.
“Control, false alarm. It’s just a pizza guy.”
“Uh...what’s going on?”
Bill pulled the kid up from the wall and straightened his jacket.
“Do you have any idea who lives here? This man has killed more people than you have ever met. We have been watching him for 3 days. It’s lucky I caught you before he did or we would be picking what’s left of you off the bottom of Ford Lake. Now, put the pizza down and get out of here. Be thankful that you still have your life.”
The pizza kid started shaking and put the pizza down. He ran back to his car and peeled out. Bill picked up the pizza box and walked in the front door.
“That never gets old.”
“Did this one pee his pants?”
“Nope, not this time.”
“You’re losing your touch.”
Bill put the pizza down on the coffee table and we both started to eat.
“So, Bill, how much am I worth to the cartel? I know they already paid Sammy five million. How much are they paying you?”
“Ten five. I told ‘em I would have done it for free.”
“Oh gee, thanks Bill.”
“Why do you care how much they are paying me? You aren’t gonna do that whole beg and bargain thing are you?”
“Oh please, what kind of hitman do you take me for? I just wanted to know how much of a thorn I am in the Cartel’s side.”
“Well, I can understand that.”
“So, when do you want to do this?”
“Whenever you’re ready to die, Corwin.”
“Oh, gimme a break.”
“Sorry. It’s up to you.”
“How about tomorrow, noon, I wanna sleep in. It’s been a long day.”
“Fine, where?”
“The park, down the street. It’s closed for the season so we won’t be bothered.”
“Fine.”
“Thanks for the pizza, Bill. Now get the hell out.”
“Ok, see ya tomorrow.”
“Yep. Tomorrow.”
Bill grabbed his things and left. The endgame was near. It was either going to be Bill or me. I needed some sleep.
Red Dragon
Member
Final Chapter: Endgame
The next day, I showed up at the park to see Bill waiting there by his car. I walked over to him and gave him a nod. Bill smiled slightly and returned the nod.
“So, Corwin, how do you want to do this? Guns? Hand to hand? No... I know.”
Bill pulled out two double-bladed knives from his trunk.
“A good old fashioned knife fight. Kind of fitting, really. Our first knife fight was the day we met.”
I took one of the knives.
“That was training, Bill. This is business.”
Bill took the other knife and slowly ran his finger along the blade. We walked to the center of the park and stood a few feet from eachother. We each threw our knives point down into the dirt. We backed up ten steps each and took a ready stance. Bill looked down at the knives and started for them. I did a forward roll toward the knives. We reached them at the same time. Bill pulled his knife out of the ground and took a swing at my face. I brought my knife up, blocking his strike. I kicked him in the chest, knocking him back, and I did a backward roll to get back to my feet.
“Not bad, Corwin.”
“Thank you.”
Bill rotated his knife in his hand so the blade was pointing down.
“Ready?”
“Always.”
Bill ran toward me and began his assault. I blocked strike after strike, but the last one got through my defense sliced a rather large gash across my chest. I winced in pain and grabbed my chest as I backed off.
“Lucky shot, Bill.”
“It’s called skill, Corwin. There’s a difference.”
Then it was my turn to attack. I ran at Bill and strike after strike was blocked until I saw my opening and thrusted up, puncturing his tricep. He dropped his knife but quickly caught it with his other hand.
“No, Bill. That was skill.”
“Yeah, just shut up and fight.”
I guess I struck a nerve with him, both figuratively and literally in that case. The fight continued for some time. Blow after blow, slice after slice. Bill and I are evenly matched with knives so all either one of us could do was wait for the other one to make a mistake. That time came soon enough. Bill was starting to fight angry, and in a fight, anger is a liability. He made a blind thrust at my throat that threw him off balance. I took the opportunity. I dodged the thrust and grabbed his wrist. I flipped him over my shoulder, sending him crashing to the ground, knocking the wind out of him. I rushed up and kicked the knife out of his hand and placed the blade of my knife against his throat.
“You lost, Bill. Now you have two options. Option one. You give up the hit and disappear. I only give you this option because we were friends once. Option two. I slide this blade three inches across your throat, you bleed out, slip into unconsciousness and die. Your choice.”
Bill was gasping for air. He cleared his throat and looked at me. His expression changed to that of a man who finally knew he had been beaten.
“Damn it...option one.”
“Good choice.”
I stood up and threw the knife down next to his head. I turned and walked away. I was about 20 feet away when I heard Bill get up and the distinct sound of a knife blade being pulled out of hard soil. I turned to see Bill just as he threw the knife at me. I leaned to the left just as the knife passed by, inches from my face. I reached up and caught it with my far hand and threw it back at Bill, hitting him square in the chest. He looked down at the knife, now imbedded in his chest, and dropped to his knees.
“Damn it, Bill.”
Bill fell to the ground, lifeless. My right hand felt wet. I looked down to see the blood slowly pouring from the slices across my palm and fingers. Then the pain surfaced. I hadn’t even realized that when I caught the knife, I had done so by the blade. I closed my hand and walked back to the car.
The next day, I showed up at the park to see Bill waiting there by his car. I walked over to him and gave him a nod. Bill smiled slightly and returned the nod.
“So, Corwin, how do you want to do this? Guns? Hand to hand? No... I know.”
Bill pulled out two double-bladed knives from his trunk.
“A good old fashioned knife fight. Kind of fitting, really. Our first knife fight was the day we met.”
I took one of the knives.
“That was training, Bill. This is business.”
Bill took the other knife and slowly ran his finger along the blade. We walked to the center of the park and stood a few feet from eachother. We each threw our knives point down into the dirt. We backed up ten steps each and took a ready stance. Bill looked down at the knives and started for them. I did a forward roll toward the knives. We reached them at the same time. Bill pulled his knife out of the ground and took a swing at my face. I brought my knife up, blocking his strike. I kicked him in the chest, knocking him back, and I did a backward roll to get back to my feet.
“Not bad, Corwin.”
“Thank you.”
Bill rotated his knife in his hand so the blade was pointing down.
“Ready?”
“Always.”
Bill ran toward me and began his assault. I blocked strike after strike, but the last one got through my defense sliced a rather large gash across my chest. I winced in pain and grabbed my chest as I backed off.
“Lucky shot, Bill.”
“It’s called skill, Corwin. There’s a difference.”
Then it was my turn to attack. I ran at Bill and strike after strike was blocked until I saw my opening and thrusted up, puncturing his tricep. He dropped his knife but quickly caught it with his other hand.
“No, Bill. That was skill.”
“Yeah, just shut up and fight.”
I guess I struck a nerve with him, both figuratively and literally in that case. The fight continued for some time. Blow after blow, slice after slice. Bill and I are evenly matched with knives so all either one of us could do was wait for the other one to make a mistake. That time came soon enough. Bill was starting to fight angry, and in a fight, anger is a liability. He made a blind thrust at my throat that threw him off balance. I took the opportunity. I dodged the thrust and grabbed his wrist. I flipped him over my shoulder, sending him crashing to the ground, knocking the wind out of him. I rushed up and kicked the knife out of his hand and placed the blade of my knife against his throat.
“You lost, Bill. Now you have two options. Option one. You give up the hit and disappear. I only give you this option because we were friends once. Option two. I slide this blade three inches across your throat, you bleed out, slip into unconsciousness and die. Your choice.”
Bill was gasping for air. He cleared his throat and looked at me. His expression changed to that of a man who finally knew he had been beaten.
“Damn it...option one.”
“Good choice.”
I stood up and threw the knife down next to his head. I turned and walked away. I was about 20 feet away when I heard Bill get up and the distinct sound of a knife blade being pulled out of hard soil. I turned to see Bill just as he threw the knife at me. I leaned to the left just as the knife passed by, inches from my face. I reached up and caught it with my far hand and threw it back at Bill, hitting him square in the chest. He looked down at the knife, now imbedded in his chest, and dropped to his knees.
“Damn it, Bill.”
Bill fell to the ground, lifeless. My right hand felt wet. I looked down to see the blood slowly pouring from the slices across my palm and fingers. Then the pain surfaced. I hadn’t even realized that when I caught the knife, I had done so by the blade. I closed my hand and walked back to the car.
Red Dragon
Member
Epilogue
Several days have passed since the final fight. Part of me feels satisfied to know that it’s all over but another part of me knows that it can happen all over again. All I can do is take it one day at a time and what happens, happens.
The phone rings.
“Hello?”
“Corwin. Glad to see you are still in one piece.”
“Hi, Mike.”
“Hey man, you up for a job?”
“Always.”
The End
Thanks for reading my story. I hope you enjoyed it.
Matthew
AKA
Red Dragon
AKA
Corwin
Several days have passed since the final fight. Part of me feels satisfied to know that it’s all over but another part of me knows that it can happen all over again. All I can do is take it one day at a time and what happens, happens.
The phone rings.
“Hello?”
“Corwin. Glad to see you are still in one piece.”
“Hi, Mike.”
“Hey man, you up for a job?”
“Always.”
The End
Thanks for reading my story. I hope you enjoyed it.
Matthew
AKA
Red Dragon
AKA
Corwin
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