Chapter 4: RETALIATION
1414 Words
The knock came at 2 AM.
Nate woke instantly, his upgraded reflexes pulling him from sleep to full alertness in a heartbeat. The System had changed more than just his bank account—his body responded faster and sharper, like someone had turned up the sensitivity on every nerve.
Three measured knocks. Professional and patient.
Not room service.
He pulled on his pants and approached the door, checking the peephole. Two men in suits stood in the hallway. Cleancut, well-dressed, the kind of professional muscle that knew how to blend into expensive hotels.
Behind them, the security camera's red light was dark.
"Mr. Worte?" The taller one spoke to the door. "We need to talk."
"I'm not interested."
"Mr. Myles insists. He's increased his offer to one million dollars. Cash. Tonight. You just need to sign some papers."
Nate's hand hovered over the door handle. One million in cash versus the System's fifty million reward. Not even close.
"Tell Myles I'm not signing anything."
The man's smile was audible in his voice. "He thought you might say that. Which is why he authorized us to be more... persuasive."
Something heavy hit the door. Once. Twice. The frame shuddered but held.
Nate backed away, pulling out his phone. The System interface appeared before he could dial.
[EMERGENCY ALERT]
Hostile Contact Detected: 2 individuals
Threat Level: MODERATE
Hotel Security Response Time: 812 minutes
Police Response Time: 1520 minutes
Recommended Action: Delay intruders until authorities arrive.
Emergency Option Available: Unlock Personal Security Protocol (Cost: $5,000,000)
Warning: This is irreversible and will establish precedent for future security expenditures.
Five million dollars for security. Nate's finger hovered over the option.
The door shuddered again and the wood cracked.
He pressed [ACCEPT].
The System interface exploded with information.
[PERSONAL SECURITY PROTOCOL ACTIVATED]
Analyzing situation...
Security Team Dispatched: Apex Solutions (ETA: 4 minutes)
Legal Protection: Emergency injunction filed
Evidence Collection: Recording all hostile actions
Police Priority Alert: Sent with video evidence
New Objective: Survive 4 minutes.
Current Upgrades Applied:
• Enhanced Reflexes: ACTIVE
• Threat Assessment: ACTIVE
• Pain Tolerance: +20%
Four minutes. Nate could survive four minutes.
The door exploded inward. The taller man stepped through, holding what looked like a police baton. His partner followed, closing the destroyed door behind them.
"Last chance, Mr. Worte. Sign the NDA, take the money, and walk away."
Nate grabbed a desk lamp, the only weapon within reach. "Or what?"
"Or we convince you."
The first man moved fast—not System-enhanced fast, but trained and professional. The baton swung toward Nate's ribs.
But Nate was faster now. His upgraded reflexes screamed warnings a split second before the strike. He twisted, felt the baton whistle past his chest, and swung the lamp.
It connected with the man's shoulder. Glass shattered. The man grunted but didn't slow.
The second man circled left, cutting off escape routes. "Don't make this harder than it needs to be."
Nate backed toward the bathroom, keeping both men in sight. His heart pounded but his hands were steady. The System's enhancements were working—fear was there, but distant and manageable.
"Three minutes," Nate said.
"What?"
"You have three minutes before very expensive security arrives. Then very motivated police. Then lawyers who will bury Robert Myles so deep he'll need a mining permit to see sunlight."
The taller man's expression flickered. Uncertainty. He was a professional, which meant he knew when a job was going bad.
"Myles's paying us fifty grand for this conversation," he said. "How much to make us leave?"
Nate blinked. "What?"
"You heard me. We're contractors, not fanatics. Make it worth our while and we disappear."
The System interface has been updated.
[TACTICAL OPTION DETECTED]
Bribery Opportunity: High success probability
Recommended Offer: $150,000 (triple their current contract)
Bonus Effect: Potential intelligence sources for future operations
Cost vs. Benefit: APPROVED
"One hundred fifty thousand," Nate said. "Each. Right now. You leave, forget this happened, and tell Myles I wasn't home."
The two men exchanged glances.
"Show us the money," the shorter one said.
Nate pulled out his phone, pulled up his banking app, and turned the screen toward them.
Available Balance: $94,700,000.00
"Wire transfer. Give me account numbers."
The taller man pulled out his phone, rattled off a routing number, and an account number. His partner did the same. Nate transferred three hundred thousand total—one fifty each.
Both phones chimed simultaneously.
"Pleasure doing business, Mr. Worte." The taller man pocketed his phone. "For what it's worth? Myles's panicking. Whatever you're doing, you've got him scared."
"Good."
"But he's got other assets. Meaner assets. We're the negotiators. Next guys won't be."
They left through the shattered door.
Nate waited thirty seconds, then checked the hallway. Empty. He grabbed his laptop and essential items, stuffing them into a pillowcase.
The System was right, staying here was suicide.
His phone rang, it was a call from an unknown number.
"Mr. Worte, this is Derek Morrison from Apex Solutions. We're in the lobby. Hotel management is concerned about the disturbance in your suite."
"I'm fine. The intruders left."
"Understood. We're still coming up. Mr. Myles's people are persistent."
Two minutes later, three men in gear emerged from the elevator. They moved like soldiers—efficient, alert, professional in a way that made Myles's goons look like amateurs.
Derek was built like a tank, with graying hair and scars that suggested a military background. "Mr. Worte. We'll need to relocate you."
"Where?"
"Secure facility. Off-grid. Myles won't find you there."
"How much?"
"Already paid for. Part of the Security Protocol package." Derek surveyed the destroyed door. "We'll handle cleanup, police reports, and hotel management. You need to move. Now."
Nate followed them to a service elevator. They descended to an underground parking garage where a black SUV waited, engine running.
"Ninety seconds," Derek said into his radio. "Package is mobile."
The SUV pulled into traffic. Nate watched the city slide past, wondering how his life had become an action movie in forty-eight hours.
His phone buzzed, a call from Jennifer Morrison.
"Mr. Worte, I heard about the incident. Are you safe?"
"For now. Are we still on schedule?"
"Yes. Filing is set for 9 AM. Six hours from now. But Nate, Myles's getting desperate. He tried to get an emergency injunction to freeze the lawsuit. We blocked it, but he's pulling out all the stops."
"Let him. Six hours and it's over."
"Six hours and it goes public. Then the real fight starts." Jennifer paused. "One more thing. Someone leaked your name to Myles's lawyers. They know who's funding this lawsuit."
Nate's jaw tightened. "How?"
"Bank transfers are traceable. Morrison & Associates received payments from your account. They connected the dots."
"Does that change anything?"
"It means Myles knows exactly who to target now. You're not anonymous anymore."
The SUV turned onto a darkened industrial road. Warehouses and shipping containers stretched into the distance.
"How much longer?" Nate asked Derek.
"Two minutes. Safe house is ahead."
The System interface pulsed.
[MISSION UPDATE]
Time Remaining: 6 hours, 17 minutes
Security Status: UPGRADED
Host Identity: COMPROMISED
Target Status: DESPERATE
Mission Probability of Success: 82%
Warning: Target may attempt final escalation before lawsuit filing.
Recommended Action: Remain in a secure location until 9 AM. No exceptions.
The SUV pulled into an underground garage. Concrete walls, reinforced doors, security cameras everywhere.
"You'll be safe here," Derek said. "We've got six men on rotation, surveillance on all approaches, and a direct line to LAPD if needed."
Nate stepped out, following Derek into a spartanly furnished room. Bed, desk, bathroom. More like a bunker than a bedroom.
"Six hours," he said to himself.
Six hours until Robert Myles's empire burned.
Six hours until Nate proved that money could buy justice—if you had enough of it.
His phone buzzed one final time. Against his better judgment, he answered.
"Nate Worte?" A woman's voice. Older. "This is Margaret Sullivan. I rented from Robert Myles for eight years. Marcus Caesar interviewed me last week."
"Mrs. Sullivan?"
"I just wanted to say thank you. For whatever you're doing. For finally making someone care." Her voice cracked. "My granddaughter lost her apartment last year. Myles kept her deposit, forced her out with fake violations. She's been sleeping in her car ever since."
Nate's throat tightened. "Mrs. Sullivan—"
"You must finish this. Whatever it costs. Please, finish him."
The line went dead.
Nate sat on the bed, staring at his phone.
Six hours.
He would finish it.
- Writer
