Avenged In Blood
Part 7
“More, more, more, where are they?” I whispered to myself. They had to come. They finally did. Another 15 or so came through the back door. It may have been the loss of blood, or it may have been that I just didn’t care anymore, but I stood up screaming obscenities at those men.
The echo of my voice in the hallway sounded strange to my ears. The staccato rattle of my machine gun somehow comforting in whatever state I was entering. The carnage was again spectacular. Bullets flew past me as fast as I sent them out but for some unknown reason I wasn’t being hit. I could feel them tearing at my clothes. All that was needed was one good aim, who was I kidding, one lucky bullet and I was dead. But I just stood there like the clown at the fair waiting for my balloon to be popped.
It wasn’t popped. I was the only one left standing. Machine gun empty, bad guys in a heap, the only movement in the room was their final twitches of death. I was still standing. It had become very surreal, the smell of blood and shit and gunsmoke. I had lost track of how many I had killed. I was going to have to pay for that someday.
Back in the war I had killed my share. I had killed soldiers. Hard, experienced men intent on killing me. And I had killed them. I killed them all like in some movie. I don’t know why, but I was just good at killing. I didn’t even try that hard. I just didn’t want to be killed in some shit hole of a foireign country. I didn’t want to die in some shit hole rest home either. Too many members of my family had been killed here tonight.
It was kind of bizarre, how one mans death can be avenged by the deaths of so many more. I sank back to the floor tossing aside the machine gun. I was out of ammunition for that one. I still had one machine gun and a brace of pistols. I watched the front door and waited for more.
An eternity passed. I am sure that I dozed off more than once but I couldn’t be sure. I was so tired, but so jazzed up on adrenaline and self-preservation that sleep was not to happen yet. I didn’t know how long I waited for something to happen. My watch had caught a bullet somewhere and been shattered. I didn’t think to look at the dead thugs for a watch.
I guessed an hour had passed when I heard footsteps. Only 3 maybe 4 men. I sat back against the wall and prepared myself.
I sat perfectly still as Raymond Cabrese himself walked in the door flanked by 3 body guards. He looked every inch the organized crime kingpin. Dressed in a white suit with a pink shirt I nearly laughed out loud, but I controlled myself. I bareley recognized him. His rugged face was masked with shock as he surveyed the carnage. He had never looked more than mean and in control before. His bodyguards were just as stunned. They hadn’t noticed me.
I flipped the selector switch on the machine gun to single shot. I wanted Cabrese alive. The bodyguards had to go. The first two fell without a look in my direction. The third had enough time to raise his machine gun before my bullet took out the back of his head.
Cabrese had pulled a pistol from under his jacket and was aiming it at me. One shot hit him in the arm, just off of the bicep. I didn’t want to hit an artery and have him bleed out all over his sissy suit. I did need him alive. The second shot hit him in the quadriceps taking him to the floor. I had him now. Bleeding and mine.
I walked over to him and commanded him to his feet. He could barely stand. I made him climb over his dead goons and sit in one of the reception chairs. I took belts and ties from dead men, there were plenty. I used them to tie Cabrese to the chair. He screamed in pain as I cinched the bonds tight.
This was going to be very different for him. I placed the machine gun on the floor and looked at Cabrese for a moment. Then my fist flew out and caught him square in the face. I felt bones crunch as his nose gave way, and a torrent of bright crimson blood flowed down his pink shirt. He started to stammer something. “Don’t you even start.” I said “ You will not speak until I ask.”
“Let us reflect for a moment on why we are here.” I began. “You kidnapped and ultimately killed Jack Reagan. You have forfeited your “empire”” I emphasized with air quotes as I walked back and forth in front of him. “That’s why all of these men are dead. You are responsible.”
He made another sound and I hit him hard enough to knock the chair over. This night still had hours left to go.
