Posts Tagged ‘gauntlet’

“So, Ms. Snow, are you going to be a doll and help us or do I have to have my associates disembowel you and your friends?”  George just stood there puffing away on his stogie as if this situation were no big deal.  With the MRC’s elite surrounding him, he had no need to worry.

“My patience is wearing thin, Abbie.”

The gun remained aimed at Mr. Smith while Abbie assessed the situation.  Still unaware of Slice’s whereabouts, she had taken Smith’s advice and focused her attention to the men before her.  Few options presented themselves but Abbie was willing to stall.

“Alright, Mr. Smith.  I’ll give you whatever you want, but leave me and my friends alone.  They have nothing to do with this.”

The portly man tried to hold back a laugh only to lose his composure.  “That’s funny, they have nothing to do with this, but they cower in that very van.  The van that you were holed up in attempting to track our tracker.  So, tell me Miss Snow, do random people always happen to just jump in vehicles where you are working?  But, sure, you don’t want your friends to get hurt.  That makes sense.  Sadly, I don’t care.”

Smith looked to his right and nodded at his henchman.  The man stepped up and fired four shots into Volition’s cowering body.  Her body slumped over leaving Marionette and Savage a bloody, frightened mess.  Abbie feel to her knees as if to plea with Smith but no words could come out of her mouth.

“Now, I have enough bullets to turn your little gang into a one-man, or should I say one-woman-band.”  The man wasn’t overly obese.  He simply enjoyed the good life and wore it for the world to see.  The all-black suit reeked of wealth, but left a sense of cool with the white undershirt showing through the open jacket.  His jet-black beard and what was left of his hair was well-groomed and taken care of.  The only jewelry to his name was an heirloom that hung from his massive neck.

The few steps it took to reach Abbie were seemingly never-ending.  At this point, Abbie couldn’t decide whether she cared to live at all.  Friends around her were dying, and for what?  None of this made sense to her.  From behind his back, George brandished a golden-inlaid Desert Eagle.  With his right hand he calmly grabbed at Abbie’s shoulder-length blonde hair and pulled it back so she would look into his eyes.  His left hand put the gun to Abbie’s temple.

“Last chance.”

It all happened so fast.  I closed my eyes expecting to see the light, instead I saw blood.  Within seconds, Smith’s henchmen fell quickly and Smith turned to witness the commotion.  As he turned, he saw the blur that could only be his “hired-help” and began to fire aimlessly in his direction.

“Abbie, GO!” echoed through the alley and she jumped into the van.  Savage got a grip of herself and took to the driver’s seat as fast as her body would allow her.  Outside, Smith was still firing on the phantom before him.  As he attempted to reload his right hand was greeted with the steel from Slice’s katana.  As the van began to take off Slice stammered back and shook his head as if reeling from a blow to the face.  The phase had been finished and Marionette made it back to the van.

“You shot at me you fuck!”  Slice’s words reverberated in the alley for a second before he regained his poise and darted for the van.  All of Smith’s energy was focused on stopping the geyser of blood gushing from the stump that used to be his right hand.


“Savage, head for my office.”

“What does he want Abbie?”

Marionette was still trying to catch her breath as the rear door was torn off.  Slice was good at his job and refused to let these women get the best of him.  Not a chauvinist, but rather a perfectionist.  Marionette was about to phase when Slice fired at her only to clip her left shoulder.

“Not this time, bitch.”  Abbie scrambled back to take on Slice before he could make his assault.  She laid a boot into his firing arm with enough force that he dropped the gun.  It only took a second before that was replaced with a large and rather demonic knife.  Slashes were exchanged but only managed to hit with minor wounds to Abbie’s upper leg and stomach.

Without any warning Savage stood on the break hoping to end the battle in the back.  Both Slice and Hellhunter dashed to the front only to collide with the windshield.  Slice took the brunt of the damage leaving only his legs in the van.

“Are you alright, Abbie?”  Savage inquired.  “What is it with this guy?”

“Just some scratches, I’ve had worse.”  She put pressure to her belly with one hand holding her forehead.  “Fuck, this is ridiculous.  We have to get to my office before Smith rallies.”

Marionette asked again.  “Abbie, for fuck’s sake, what do they want?”

“They want Henry Jones.”


“So, what’s the deal, do you have a clue as to where he is or not?”  Derringer had no problem getting to the point.

“Shut up you fool, let her do her thing and we’ll be on with it.”  Volition didn’t take kindly to almost anything that Derringer did.  Treating him more like a baby brother than a lover.  Like a child sent to his room he mumbled under his breath.

“I get claustrophobic…and I’m hungry.”  His sheer size was terrifying.  The man had to sit in the middle of the van just to keep it balanced.  “Can’t we just walk or something, this is so boring.”

“Here child, play with this.”  Volition tossed him a fifty thousand volt Taser and a bottle of water.  “Go nuts.”

My powers were fading in and out.  One minute I had a lead on Slice and then something glitches.  Like he was blocking me from catching onto his scent.  It’s been a while since I focused this hard to track down anybody.  Nobody has really put up much of challenge.  Slice was proving more than difficult.

“How’s it coming Abbie?”  Marionette inquired as the bickering between the lovebirds had ceased.

“I don’t know.  One minute I sense him a few blocks away, and the next he’s on top of us.  Wait a minute.”  The glow from my eyes made everyone uneasy.  They must’ve thought me possessed.  I only know my eyes glow because people tell me; it’s kind of hard to see my own eyes.  Just as I was locking in Slice’s location, the glow rescinded along with my power.  I dropped my head and gave in to the frustration this whole situation was causing me.

Like a clap of thunder, something landed on top of the van.  The noise caused a stir but none of us dared make a sound.  Everyone except Derringer sank while assessing the situation.  The oaf looked at Marionette as if to ask what to do.  She slowly nodded as if to direct him out of the vehicle to check out the disturbance.  As gently as the ox could he opened the back doors and slowly lowered himself to the pavement.

Derringer looked around but saw nothing.  The wind was picking up and the alley was quiet, save for the smash of a bottle breaking.  He looked at us from outside the van and gave a shrug.  Marionette pointed up and Derringer stepped back onto the rear bumper and peaked over the top of the van.  With the faintest of sounds Derringer’s head was separated from his body.  His head had already hit the ground before his body could register what had happened.  Again we shrank to the center of the van.   Volition was in a state of shock.

We all felt as if someone was watching us from the space that was once filled with Derringer’s massive body.

“You look frightened ladies.  Have you done something wrong?”  The crackling, sarcasm in his voice made my blood boil.  I began to run for the doors.  I didn’t get very far before Savage and Marionette had pulled me back.  “Tsk, tsk, tsk.  Do you know who I am?”  The cloaking device had been turned off and there stood the target.  “Now, let’s think about this.  My job is to kill-persuade you to register with the MRC.  I would hate for anything bad to happen to any of you.  Well ‘cept you Abbie.”  Again I leapt towards Slice with nothing but rage in my eyes.  As I went for him, Slice slide-stepped and smashed me in the back of the head with the flat of his blade.  “Did you not just hear me?  Or see that man’s head on the ground?  Now be a good little bitch and come quietly.”

My heart was racing as I tried to keep cool.  Nothing about this situation was allowing me to do that.  Our big man was dead, and the rest were locked in a group huddle inside the van.  He was faster than me, stronger than me, and had an arsenal on his person.  I had two options, to stand down and hope for mercy or to attempt to throw down with this mercenary.  The latter seemed like a much better idea.  I took note of his blade hand and darted straight at it.  As he evaded my tackle I was able to snag a Glock out of the harness on his thigh.  I rolled into a crouch, spun and pointed in his direction.  He had gone stealth again.

In the darkness all I could hear over my panting was that sinister, mechanical chuckle.  I wanted this man’s head over my mantle.  “Congratulations, you now have a weapon.  It’s a good thing I carry several.  At least now when I strangle you with your own intestines I can say I gave you the chance to surrender.“

Keeping my head on a swivel I tried to point out the voice.  My rage didn’t allow for my powers to function, or maybe I was just unable to grasp what was happening.  Bright lights shined on the van and my back as I turned to see what it was.  Of course, a large black SUV was barreling right for us.  I thought to jump out of the way but I didn’t care at the moment.  It’s a good thing it stopped well before any damage was done.

Two men stepped out of the driver and passenger side of the vehicle.  The driver opened the door behind him to allow for another man to dismount.  It was a short, stout man with a fair amount of black hair flowing into a ponytail.  He stopped and stared at me before removing a cigar from his jacket and lighting it up.

“Hello, Miss Snow.”  He paused and stared at me as he took an exhaustive drag from the cigar.  “Don’t mind Slice, it’s me you should worry about.  You don’t remember me do you Miss Snow?  George Smith, Shining Sun Collection Agency.  You have something that belongs to me.  Maybe you should listen to your messages.”

GAUNTLET – Part One: The Beginning <– Click here to catch up on the Gauntlet.  (Tarentino-ing it)