I jump into the jeep’s passenger seat and we immediately speed off.
Burnt out buildings blur through the dark tinted windows as we make our way downtown. So far, the ‘nice’ part of the city has been mostly spared from the chaos that we’ve brought down on Cali, but all of that changes tonight—at least, it does if I can get my hands on Oscar first.
“Is that it?” Aldar asks, pointing ahead as we turn onto a residential street and slow down.
I peak out of the front windshield and spot a white limo turning up ahead.
... How fucking gaudy; but I wouldn’t expect anything less. On the bumper is a subtle splash of red paint. “That’s our target.
Aldar creeps forward, careful to keep his distance. The streets are busier than I expected, but that’s not exactly bad news. It gives us more cover as we follow the leak to Dante’s hideout.
My pulse slows and I re-check all of my weapons. It’s funny, finally being back downtown again. Even through all the chaos and changes, it barely looks any different. When we turn down a familiar street, I even see one of my old buildings. I’m not as effected by the sight of it as I once feared I might be. It’s from another life, a life I don’t have time to linger on anymore.
Soon enough, the glitz and glamor of downtown Cali fades, and we roll into the warehouse district. It’s not as scummy as it once was—thanks in large part to my old revitalization efforts—but it still pales in comparison to what we just left behind. It’s also far less crowded.
Good. The fewer innocents who get caught up in this, the better, because I’m not stopping no matter who’s in my way.
“This is far enough,” I tell Aldar when the streets become empty enough that any adept driver would easily be able to tell that he was being tailed.
We pull off onto a side street just as the white limo stops at a red light ahead. Aldar stops and I’m immediately at the trunk.
Inside is an old friend.
My bike. It’s still bloodstained and caked in mud and guts, but it only seems fitting to bring it around for one last go.
I hope on and Aldar and I share one last look. “Good luck, boss.”
“Be ready.”
We both nod and then I’m off.
The warm humid wind picks up as I speed forward down an alleyway that runs parallel to the main street the limo drives down. The weather’s been eerily still over the past few days; if I didn’t know any better, I’d think the worst was over with—but I know that’s not anywhere close to the truth. The worst is still to come; I just have to make sure that the cards fall on my side when everything comes tumbling down in the hurricane.
A few blocks later, the limo makes a slow turn down a tight street. I immediately know where it’s headed. Through the slits of the alleyways, I can see a warehouse that looks like it’s been outfitted into a luxurious nightclub. That’s so fucking Dante’s style that it makes me angry we didn’t find it sooner. The all black building stands out like a sore thumb amidst the red and green storerooms. If only we’d had air-reconnaissance, then there would have been no doubt where my little brother was ‘laying low’.
It looks like a personal den of hedonism; the closer I approach, the louder the thumping bass coming from inside becomes.
A devastating snarl forms on my lips as I park my bike behind an overflowing dumpster. That bastard is keeping my son in that building; he’s blasting that awful music at full volume while my little boy’s fragile ears are at stake.
He’s going to fucking pay.
But first, I need to find a way in.
Luckily, fire-escapes abound down here, and I’ve already pulled myself up on the nearest one when I see the white limo pull up out back of the makeshift nightclub. There’s no doubt about it now. This is where Dante is, and it’s where Oscar should be, too.
A more violent wind greets me on the roof of the nightclub’s neighbouring warehouse. The gusts blow back my messy hair and accosts my eyes as I try to spot a way into the building ahead.
Through the stained-glass windows, I can see the silhouettes of heavily armed guards. They patrol in groups of two, at steady intervals. Every minute or so, the white light inside starts to strobe and I swear I can hear cheering coming from inside. This is no place for a baby...
It doesn’t take long for me to spot a way in. One of the windows on the third floor is cracked just enough to see through. A pair of guards, each armed to the teeth, stroll by, oblivious to what’s coming for them.
The next time they disappear around the corner, I make my move. There’s a good ten-foot gap between my roof and their fire-escape, but even through my soreness, I’m able to make it without rattling the bars too much.
Now, I can hear the two guards chatting away inside. My attack is put on hold as I listen for any useful information, but they don’t know shit. They blabber on about girls they’ve fucked and men they’ve shot and when one of them says, “I didn’t even put a condom on. She was too drunk to notice...” I make sure it’s the last words he ever says.
The blade of my knife finds his throat before I’m even fully through the window. His partner doesn’t have time to react before I’ve cut him up, too. Blood spills from their sliced necks and I gently help them to the ground. Their guns are too noisy to keep around, so I toss them out of the window and onto the dark fire-escape. The last thing I need is for someone I’ve already unarmed to come across more weapons.
Just as the last gun hits the metal outside, I hear a gasp come from behind me. I whip around just in time to spot a rogue guard lifting his barrel my way. Before he can pull the trigger, I’ve thrown my switchblade through his cheek.