THE MASTER'S GAME PLAN

CHAPTER 7 - THE BODYGUARDS

The Bodyguards

CURUAN HIGHWAY 8:00 PM

"W-why?" Dread coiled in her stomach.

She turned to the window. Nothing out there. No houses, no streetlights, barely a car on the road. Only darkness.

Her pulse hammered harder.

"Ms. Ellah." The driver's eyes kept flicking to the rearview mirror, his voice thin and tight. "We're being followed."

"What?"

He slammed the brakes. She pitched forward and caught the seat just as a car swung across the road and blocked them, headlights glaring through the windshield.

"Ms. Ellah, no matter what happened, you do not get out of this car!" Homer's order cracked like a whip.

She shrank into the far corner as five men spilled out of the other vehicle, faces hidden behind black masks, long rifles raised and aimed straight at them.

Homer turned to face the backseat. Fear flickered in his eyes, but his voice stayed steady.

"Boys, I won't lie to you. We might not walk away from this. But we protect our boss with everything we have, down to our last breath. And we are going to live. All of us. Understood?"

"YES, SIR!" Claudio, Naldo and Waldo answered without a tremor. It wasn't a promise anymore. It was the only thing holding them up.

A rifle butt smashed into the windshield. Cracks spidered across the glass.

"SEND OUT THE WOMAN AND NOTHING HAPPENS TO YOU!"

The blow rocked the whole car. The color drained from her face.

The four guards traded one look, one nod. The doors flew open.

"DOWN!"

She threw herself onto the seat as the night exploded.

Gunfire ripped the air apart, so loud it swallowed her scream. Bullets hammered the car body, glass rained over her hair, and every shot came from somewhere closer than the last. Both sides fired at point-blank range. No one retreated. No one could.

She clamped her hands over her head, sobbing, her whole body shaking, her face slick with tears. She had never heard a gun fired outside a movie. Now the sound was inside her bones.

'Please stop. Please, please stop.'

Something struck the window beside her. She jerked her head up.

Homer yanked her door open. Blood streaked his jaw. "Ms. Ellah, you have to run!"

"I'm s-scared!"

"There's no time! We'll all die here!"

Her knees would barely hold her, but she forced one foot toward the door.

"GET THE WOMAN!"

The shout came from somewhere in the dark, and it was close. Ice ran through her veins.

Homer's gun roared. The masked man's charge ended in a heartbeat, his body slamming onto the asphalt.

She froze, staring.

"Ms. Ellah, move!" Homer shouted, but her mind had gone white and empty. She pressed herself into the seat, rigid, trembling.

Bullets raked the doorframe, shredding the air where she would have stood. Homer lunged in and shoved her back down. "What are you doing?! Do you want to live or not?!" He dragged her low and she crashed onto the floor of the car.

The shock jolted her awake. She curled tight, arms over her head, as more bullets punched through the metal above her.

She sobbed into the floor mat. Homer stood at the open door and fired back.

"NALDO, LEFT SIDE!" His voice tore through the chaos.

A groan answered him. Wet. Dragging.

"WALDO'S HIT!" Claudio's scream cracked in half. "HE'S HIT! HE'S HIT, HE'S..."

The voice stopped mid-word.

"CLAUDIO!" Naldo's cry was raw, shredded, and the gunfire swallowed it whole.

Then, slowly, the guns ran out of things to say.

Silence fell. It pressed on her ears harder than the noise had.

She couldn't get up. If she moved, it would all be real. If she stayed down, maybe the world would stop where it was.

But she had to.

On legs that barely belonged to her, she pushed herself up, found the door handle, and stepped out into the night.

Her breath left her.

Bodies lay scattered across the road. And at the center, in a spreading pool of his own blood, lay the man who had led them all.

A sob tore out of her. She couldn't feel her hands.

"M-Ms. Ellah..."

She spun around. The driver crawled out from beneath the car, blood running from his temple, and dragged himself toward her.

"Homer!"

She dropped to her knees and shook the guard lying on the cold concrete.

His eyelids fluttered, then opened a sliver.

"Ms... Ms. Ellah. Thank God you're safe. Tell... Don Jaime thank you. For everything."

"No, Homer, no, please! I'll never replace you guys, I swear! Not even if you never get any better looking!"

A faint smile touched his lips. "Go. You have to get away. We promised..."

"We'll get help, we'll..."

"Ms. Ellah." His fingers closed around her wrist. The grip was weak, but the certainty in it was not. "I kept it," he whispered. "You're alive. Please, promise me you'll stay alive..." His hand slid away.

"Yes! I promise! Homer! Homer!"

"Forgive me, Ms. Ellah... I can't protect you anymore..."

His face blurred behind her tears. "No! You promised too! All of you promised!"

But his eyes had already fixed on nothing. The steel was gone from his voice, from his face. Gone.

She couldn't move. She couldn't let go of his hand. He had kept his word. He had paid for her life with his own.

"Ms. Ellah, please! We have to go!" The driver looked over the fallen men. "Homer, Waldo, Naldo, Claudio... thank you." He knelt and gently closed Homer's eyes.

She broke apart completely.

"Please, Ms. We have to go. I'll call your grandfather as soon as we're clear. We just have to get out of here."

He pulled her to her feet, and she followed.

As the car pulled away, the road swallowed the four men they left behind. Only an hour ago they had been laughing in these same seats. Now the laughter was gone, and the road that had felt so alive was nothing but silence.

---

LOPEZ MANSION...

She crossed the threshold of the mansion without remembering a single step of the ride home. Her legs moved, but they did not feel like hers. Blood ran down her arm from the broken glass and dripped onto the marble, one slow drop after another. Her dress clung to her, soaked through with Homer's blood, and she didn't feel any of it. All she could feel was the weight of his fingers around her wrist, fading.

Her grandfather met her in the hall.

"Ellah!"

Don Jaime went gray as he stared at her.

"DAMN IT! WHO DID THIS?!"

"Lolo... Lolo, Homer and the others... they're gone."

The words hit like a bullet. Gone. For the first time, she truly understood it.

Her eyes burned and filled. If her grandfather hadn't caught her in time, she would have collapsed onto the cold marble.

"It's my fault. They died because of me! Homer, Claudio, Naldo, Waldo, they're all gone, and I was just curled up on the floor of that car while they..."

"Don't you say that." His arms tightened around her, steady, as if he could hold her conscience together with his own hands. "You are safe. That is what matters. Do you hear me?"

"I heard them die." Her voice finally broke. "I couldn't do anything. I was inside the car, and he was dying, and he kept telling me I had to live. He died so I could live..."

Hot tears spilled down her face until the sobs took her completely. Her grandfather held her tight, one hand moving slowly across her back.

Guilt devoured her. Four good men were dead, and she was the reason.

"It's my fault... It's my fault."

"No. It is not your fault. Not yours. They did their job, and because of them, you are alive. Don't blame yourself."

The crying stopped. Her stare hardened on nothing, and her fists clenched until her nails bit her palms.

"Think about this. They were bodyguards. Protecting you was their duty. But we will not let them go without justice!"

"I swear it..." Her voice dropped, low and unshakable. "Whoever did this will pay under the law. I promise!"