Part II is finally here! Brick has come to terms with the previous tragic events that stole his life and now his mind is set on figuring out the final form of his revenge. What will be next for Brick and how will he decide to make his enemies pay?
-1 week later-
Sitting upon the balcony of his hotel room, Brick was finishing his coffee and spacing out into the burning flame of a candle that was sitting on the table beside of him. Plans of revenge for Genie’s death, repeatedly bounced throughout his mind. He began to plan a number of different scenarios of which he could choose from when the time arose; which would be soon. Under normal circumstances Brick would have had an arsenal at his disposal if he had ever needed it, but now, he was on his own no matter what. Luckily, he had enough rage inside of him to push him through anything that arose. He would succeed on his own.
Brick already knew his target, which is what led him to his current whereabouts in South America. It was obvious once he put the pieces together. He didn’t deal with many people who were capable of getting their hands on the type of explosives it took to demolish his house, and life. Brick knew how easy it was for Escobar to procure the means to accomplish the task he had, which was his own form of revenge.
Juan Escobar was a self proclaimed drug lord living in the shadows of the Norte del Valle Cartel after all of the original members dissipated. He was also the alleged son of Wilber Varela, a leader of said cartel, whom Brick was sent to dispose of many years back. Without a doubt, Brick knew that Juan, or men of which he employed, were behind his tragedy. Juan wanted revenge and had apparently been lying years in the wait for it. The only thing Brick didn’t understand is how Juan came about the knowledge that he was the one who had pulled the trigger. Varela was a sanctioned “mark” through the CIA and Brick was very good at his job, therefore, there really could only be one explanation. It wasn’t like the CIA would just allow information like that to slip out into the open; so not only did Brick have to worry about Juan and his self proclaimed Colombian drug lord title, he had to worry about the people he worked for. People that were close to him. There was an obvious leak within the CIA which meant it was best for Brick to finish this job as quickly as possible.
A knock at the door stole Brick away from his detrimental thoughts and caused him to sigh in annoyance. He definitely wasn’t expecting anyone, to the world, Brick Regarde was supposed to be a pile of ash and Jose Santiago was the gentlemen residing in this hotel room. So who in the hell is Mr. Santiago receiving a visit from? Brick crept towards the door and grabbed his PT-1911 off of the table as he walked by. He took the safety off and cocked the hammer back as a precaution as he leaned in to listen through the door. Another knock came, followed by a voice.
“¿Hola? Servicio de habitaciones!”
Brick sighed in relief but was still hesitant to open the door. Too many years of training had taught him better than that. Without knowing for sure rather or not this was truly room service, he had to do something.
“No gracias. Por favor, vuelva más tarde.” A quick reassurance that room service was not needed should be enough for them to walk away. If they remained, well, there would be more trouble then he was hoping for.
Seconds later footsteps could be heard walking away back down the hall. Room service after all he thought; he lowered his gun and began to tuck it into he back of his pants as he started to walk away. Just as a sigh of relief had managed to escape his lips, something had crashed out on the balcony where Brick was once sitting. Quickly looking in that direction, and reaching for his gun once more, Brick was ready for whatever had just arrived.
Brick was ready but he wasn’t expecting what he saw. The table that was sitting on the balcony was now knocked over and the candle that had once been upon it, had fallen off. There was a fire now beginning to burn before his eyes as the candle’s flame caught the bottom of the cotton curtains that hung upon the patio doors. He chalked it up to a gust of wind but he felt in his gut that something was wrong.
Running to find something to snuff the fire out, Brick caught a glare out of the corner of his eye and followed his gut instinct to duck and roll behind the nearest piece of furniture. Within seconds of moving out of the way, a gunshot rang throughout the room and sliced through the air of where he was once standing. Someone knew that Brick was alive and had come to make sure the previous botched job was taken care of.
With his PT-1911 still in hand, he peered around the couch he was behind and let a shot loose towards the man that was hiding on the balcony. Brick could see his arm peeking out from behind the building flames of the curtains and continued to aim for whatever he could hit. The assailant moved back and then quickly reappeared to fire back causing Brick to veer back into hiding. They continued to fire upon each other until Brick heard a grunt of pain and a clattering on the ground.
Cautiously coming out from his shielding, Brick could see a bodily mass laying in the patio door way. At least six foot seven inches, three hundred pounds and a body covered in tattoos, he could tell this was definitely one of Juan’s hit-men. He walked closer, gun still aimed toward the body, in attempts to see if he were still breathing. He was. Brick rolled the body over to see his face and was greeted with wide eyes. Immediately Brick stood up, put his foot to his throat and aimed his gun towards his face.
“Did Juan send you?” Brick needed some official answers and this may have been his only chance to get them.
The hit-man just quirked his mouth to the side and smiled allowing blood to drip out upon his face. Brick forcefully shoved his boot harder on his throat causing him to gurgle and choke on his own blood. “Quiero respuestas. ¿Quién te envió, y que es su informante?”
Silence fell upon the room as Brick’s questions were still going unanswered. “Ahora!” He yelled, desperately seeking his answers.
Another smile gleamed across the bloody mess that was laying before him, but this time, words followed as well. “Juan will watch you burn. Rialdo will see to that. He..” A cough escaped his mouth followed by another gurgle of blood “He will have revenge. We… never stop. Morirás.”
His eyes fluttered shut, his head fell to the side, and blood pooled from his mouth. He was gone. His last words would not go unnoticed but to Brick, he knew them to be lies. As he shoved the bodily mass a few inches over into the still burning flames on the curtains, he knew who would really be the ones to burn.
Brick grabbed his things and made his way to the door. He leaned up against the entryway and stared back among the flames. He watched as the body ignited in a blaze of light and the smoke began to carry the stench of burnt flesh. He sighed in relief at the slight feeling of accomplishing part of his task for revenge. A fallen enemy lay before him burning in the same kind of flames that had stolen Genie. Some how, that made everything better. He now knew exactly how Juan would pay with his life and it made him actually smile. He also knew he would even extend that courtesy to Rialdo. That backstabbing bastard would pay with the rest. It wasn’t Brick that was going to burn. It wasn’t him that was going to die. It was him though, that would relinquish that unto all of those who had a hand in destroying his life. It was him alone that would watch them all burn.
Though around me there was white
All I saw ahead was a red just as bright
And though my skin had been frost bit
The pain I felt was from the fires that were lit
Instead of the fluffy white snow that was here
I found myself standing alone in a blizzard of fear
The flakes became my scattered thoughts
Surrounding me no matter how I fought.
The realization had finally occurred
The scene in front began to blur
For it was hell that I was truly in
Paying for all my past and future sins
My mind tried to create a sweet escape
Alas though, it just came too late
The walls had crumbled as the flames reigned high
Scorching my body with every little lie
Gone are my beautiful snowy dreams
Permanently ripped from my mind at the seams
A helpless, fearful soul, wandering alone
With silenced words and force fed moans
The devil, my friend, began smiling with grace
As he watched my own smile being burned from my face
His laughter arose through the depths of hell
As each and every part of me turned to ash and fell
What was inside, now no longer lives
For dust in the wind is all I have left to give
Reduced to nothing by my friend
Kept here for his amusement until the end