CHAPTER 2: YOU OUGHT TO BE CAREFUL
1845 Words
The sirens hadn’t started yet, but I could feel the chaos closing in like a noose.
Ned was dead, his blood still warm on the floor, the paper with Kelvin’s scrawled name clenched tight in my fist. I didn’t have time to mourn, only to move.
The note on the plate haunted me:
“I know who you are.”
Every second was borrowed now.
I threw on my clothes in seconds, grabbed my gun, and slipped the paper into my boot. I didn’t take the stairs, I bolted for the service elevator at the end of the corridor. No cameras. No witnesses.
And ain't showing no mercy.
As the elevator hummed down, my heartbeat counted every floor.
Ding. Ding. Ding.
Then, CRACK!.
Glass shattered beside my head.
It was what I thought. A sniper!.
The bullet punched a hole through the elevator door just inches from my face. My breath caught. They knew exactly where I was.
I slammed the emergency stop, pried the doors open between floors, and climbed out fast. The hotel hallway was empty, but I could feel eyes. A scope on my back. I dropped low and sprinted for the laundry chute.
Another shot rang out.
BOOM!
Ripping through a vase behind me.
No time. I needed to get out of here as fast as I could.
I dove headfirst into the metal channel that led downstairs, sliding down a tunnel of sweat and steel, landing hard in a pile of towels in the basement.
My shoulder screamed in protest, but I rolled to my feet and kept moving. One shot to the leg and I was done.
I burst through the service exit, blinded momentarily by daylight. I ducked instinctively behind a dumpster, and,
CRACK! Another shot. The concrete beside my head exploded in dust.
They had eyes on me. High ground.
I spotted a delivery truck idling across the narrow street. There was no driver in sight.
It was either a gift or bait. Either way, I was taking it.
I ran low, zig-zagging across the narrow streets as bullets rained down, one clipped the mirror as I flung the door open and threw myself inside. I tore the starting wires in seconds. The engine roared to life.
Another shot was taken out the back window as I slammed the truck into gear and peeled off, tires screaming against the pavement.
I didn’t look back.
Not until I was ten blocks away, blending into the morning traffic, heart pounding, blood roaring in my ears.
Whoever they were, they weren’t just sending messages anymore.
They wanted me gone.
But now I had something.
Kelvin’s name.
The truck rumbled to a stop in the shadow of an abandoned warehouse. I was out of sight.
I sighed.
“That was close,” I whispered to myself as I killed the engine.
The silence pressed heavy around me like the calm before a storm. My fingers still trembled slightly from the sniper attack. I stepped out onto cracked pavement, scanning the dim street. Nothing moved but the wind.
Then my phone buzzed. Merci.
I hesitated. I already knew what this was. I slid my finger across the screen and took the phone to my ear.
“Hey,” I said, my voice low and worn.
“Finally,” Merci breathed. “I thought I’d be waiting all night. Are we still meeting tonight? I am already getting bored.”
I closed my eyes for a moment. Her voice was a familiar softness in a world that had gone jagged and cruel. And I hated what I had to say.
“No,” I whispered. “Not tonight.”
Silence on the other end. I could feel her disappointment that broke through the line.
“You’re doing it again,” she said finally, her tone sharp with hurt. “When are you going to stop this?” You promised me.”
“I know,” I murmured. “And I meant it. But I can’t go home. Not now. I need to take care of certain things.”
“Let me guess, you are not going to tell me, right?” she asked.
“Nope, not now, not ever,” I said. "And you should stop trying. My job is confidential, as you said, as regards your family.”
“Do you know whether I can help?”
I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to.
“Damn it,” she whispered. “Someday, you are gonna need to trust someone.”
I ended the call, or so I thought.
I stepped through the back door of the Green Room, my safehouse. Dust rose as I entered the small, windowless storage space, lined wall to wall with crates and hidden compartments. My armoury. My sanctuary.
“I’m not going to die tonight,” I said, flipping open a trunk and revealing my gear, guns, blades, grenades, and encrypted devices. “Not until this ends.”
“Are you talking to me?” Merci asked. “Who is going to kill you?” she asked. “Let me help,” she pleaded.
I thought I had ended the call. She heard me.
“Nothing,” I said, more firmly. “I wasn’t talking to you.”
She exhaled hard, angry and afraid. “When this is over, if you’re still breathing... I want answers.”
“You’ll get them,” I promised, strapping a pistol to my thigh and checking the chamber. “But right now, I need to get going.”
“You really think you don’t need help?”
“I don’t think. I know. And tonight, I will not be needing anyone’s help.”
There was a beat of silence. Then, softly: “Come back to me.”
“I’ll try.”
I ended the call before I could hear her break.
Kelvin’s house was a fortress, so I heard. But tonight, that fortress is coming down.
Kelvin thought he was untouchable. But I was coming.
And I wasn’t just bringing bullets.
I was bringing every ghost, every secret, every ounce of vengeance I had left.
It was time to end this.
The night was moonless, perfect cover.
I stood across the street from Kelvin’s estate, watching from the rooftop of a crumbling apartment building. Through thermal lenses, the place glowed like a living beast: guards at every entry, snipers posted high, and security drones sweeping the perimeter like vultures.
They called it a fortress. But to me, it was just another puzzle waiting to be broken. Something I need to destroy as well.
Kelvin used to work for my father. From what I read from my father’s diary, he trusted Kelvin. But I have also discovered that Kelvin works for the Mafia, and he has to go.
Behind my father’s back, he sold secrets to the Mafia, indirectly causing his downfall. Now, I wasn’t just here to settle a score.
I was here to collect a blood debt.
I rappelled down the side of the building and slipped into the alley. My black tactical suit blended with the shadows. I moved fast and low, bypassing the first layer of security with a code I’d hacked weeks ago.
I took down the first pair of guards in silence, a quick knife to the throat, a silenced round to the skull. The bodies hit the ground without a whisper. But the third one spotted the glint of my rifle. He raised his weapon.
But he was too late.
Pop!.
I didn’t wait to see him fall. The whole estate was about to wake up.
I moved like a ghost through the maze of corridors, planting C4 along structural weak points, firing clean shots as guards poured in like ants from a disturbed hill. I counted every bullet, made every move count.
I vaulted through the inner courtyard, ducking under a spray of bullets from a rooftop turret. Rolled, popped up and tossed a grenade.
The explosion lit up the night like a second sunrise. I guess it was my mistake, but I was in a hurry. I don’t want the police involved in this. I should have left before they showed up.
More guards came. They were better trained, with heavier gear. I had planned for every item I brought. Another grenade, and suddenly there was some quietness.
I went through the hall as I cut them down one by one until the smoke cleared and all that was left were bodies and fire.
My chest heaved as I kicked in the final door.
Kelvin’s panic room wasn’t so safe anymore.
He stood at the far end, trying to load a pistol with shaking hands, sweat pouring down his forehead. Gold chains, silk shirt, fine shoes, he still had a taste for opulence. Behind him, screens showed every corner of the estate going up in flames.
“Stop,” he barked, his voice cracking, “You don’t want to do this.”
I stepped forward, blood and soot smeared across my face. My rifle hung loose at my side, but I didn’t need it. The pistol in my hand was steady, its barrel already aimed between his eyes.
“You sold my father out,” I said. My voice was low, calm and dangerous. “You fed him to the wolves.”
“I don’t even know who you are,” he cried. “Who are you?” he asked with so much fear in his voice.
“I am vengeance.” I smiled.
“I am Jane Cobhill, the daughter of General Cobhill, whom you ratted to the Mafia so that you can live this way,” I said, calmly spreading my arms to show him the kind of wealth he had acquired for himself.
“I did what I had to survive,” Kelvin stammered. "You don’t understand, your father was already dead. The Mafia made sure of that. I just played my part.”
I moved closer.
“You chose your part,” I said. “And now, I’m here to collect.”
He dropped the pistol and raised his hands.
“Please… I have money. Power. I can make you rich. I can—”
Click!
The safety on my pistol disengaged. His eyes went wide.
“I was trained for war. I survived the worst the world had to offer. And you think money is going to save you from me?”
I pressed the barrel onto his forehead. He flinched.
“My father’s blood bought you luxury. Tonight, you pay for it in full.”
His lips parted for one final plea—
But I didn’t let him finish.
Bang!
Kelvin crumpled to the floor like a toppled statue. Just another name crossed off my list.
I exhaled slowly and turned toward the door, smoke curling in the air behind me, the whole fortress shaking from the bombs I’d planted. I had minutes before the place came down.
As I turned around, I stood face to face with a pregnant lady pointing a gun at my face.
- Writer
