The Last Kill

The Gambit

Silas was just returning from the gun store, a basement down Cole Street, it smelt of old beer and cigarette, he had met a guy in there who was drenched in tattoos, he wasn't judging, because he had worst tattoos, they'd shook hands and talked a few about the best guns and why they were the best guns. He hadn't been to a gun store in years, but he still had his game face on.

He picked two silvered SMGs, they were weapons he'd known how to use well, he got a shotgun too, and was spent, and began heading home because he'd got work to do.

Dr. Anya had called, once he saw that he had missed several calls from his therapist, he quickly called her back, but she wasn't coming to the phone. He took both Uzi out of the pack and admired them, as memories began floating through his mind, times of when he was so flawless, deliberately finding and killing people who tampered with his family, friends or acquaintances.

He meticulously crafted a multi-layered trap. He leveraged his own, ancient knowledge of The Architect's protocols and Vance's security systems to turn them against each other. These are things that he had done before, and now he was sure they were going to work on these two. He used his old contacts to spread misinformation, sowing chaos and distrust within The Architect's ranks.

He hadn't even begun, but fulfilment began flooding his heart, he knew that he was in for the win. His mind was drifting past Vance, and heading towards The Architect, he made that normal, one person had to die, or both. Detective Miller could help him, he thought, and then took his phone and called him.

“This is Detective Miller from the States Police, how can I help you?”

“It's Silas Volkov.”

And the silence was palpable.

“Silas Volkov.” Miller reiterated.

Silas sets up a meeting with Detective Miller, under extremely tight, anonymous conditions. Silas feeds Miller carefully curated evidence of all Vance's illicit activities and The Architect's shadowy influence, pushing Miller to act quickly.

“You, how'd you know all these?” Miller questioned.

“I've been here for 3 months, detective.”

Miller, recognizing the gravity and undeniable authenticity of the intel, is now a crucial, albeit unwitting, ally.

“Okay, I'm in.” Miller said, and Silas jumped for joy in his room. He knew that it was going to be a walk in the park for him, Vance will die, Kira will die, but The Architect doesn't know what was coming for him.

•••

“Boss?” Kira placed the phone to her ear.

“Eliminate Silas, he's compromised.”

“Yes boss.”

That evening, Silas Volkov was being followed, unknowingly to him, as he walked the street of London on his way back to his hotel room, taking in the air, the green, the music, the smell of bread from local bakeries, it was fresh and smelt of fruits, but there was really no fruits in sight, he passed the train station, and some old red telephone booths where he stopped to put himself together, it felt like his guns were slipping down his pants. The telephone booth was a little open, so he walked into a safe house, and worked his guns, properly fitting them in, and just there, Kira ambushed him in that safe house, and it was a brutal fight of yells and hides, and bullets, and blood.

“I'm sorry Silas, but this is where it ends.”

He lifted his head and saw her, “Kira.”

She was pointing a pistol at him. Nobody ever pointed a pistol at him, did she know who he was? He had ended the life of many who dared ambush him like that.

She's been ordered to eliminate him, and all she wanted was to do just that. She fired the first shot, but Silas hid behind some drums in the safe house.

“What's going on, Kira?” He yelled, “it's now about me?”

“It's always been about you, Silas.” She responded, firing shots at the drum where he hid behind.

“Why are you doing this? I'm still on Vance, Kira.”

“Your time is up, and Vance is still alive, man. You failed.”

“I wasn't given any stupid time, Kira.” He ran out behind another drum, but a rain of bullets followed him there. She wasn't joking, she was going to put multiple bullets into his body, and walk out.

“I'm not ready to fight you, Kira.” He said.

“You don't have to. I was given an order.” And another round goes off, battering the drum again.

But he wasn't there, he had hid behind another. He took a clear shot and emptied his Submachine gun on her leg, she creamed and fell to the ground, yelling in pain, as he escaped, running out and through the suburbs, his survival was by the narrowest margin, because she was determination to end him. This confirmed The Architect's intent to eliminate him, and it dawned on him that he got to act fast.