Part III is finally here!! See how Brick’s revenge is coming along……
Walking the streets of Manizales was probably the worst thing Brick could possibly be doing right now. He really couldn’t afford to be out in the open but he needed a few more fittings to make his idea come to life. The risk of exposure was worth finding the essential parts that would build the device that would put an end to the diabolical human lives that caused him pain.
After some time wandering, trying to remain incognito, Brick was able to collect all of his pieces to create his own instrument of burning death. A homemade flamethrower.
It was a thing of beauty. It wasn’t high tech and it wasn’t perfect but knowing the damage it would create is what made the finished sight a true artistry vision. He couldn’t have asked for a better weapon to accomplish his task, for after Brick saw Juan’s hit-man within the flames engulfing his hotel room, he knew that would be the way he would see Juan die as well. It was only fitting since his beloved Genie had been taken from him in the same manner. An eye for an eye has always been a motto Brick understood since working with the CIA but he never truly made it apart of his own personal life until he felt his own building heat escape through the cracks of his broken heart.
It had been mere days since Brick watched Genie’s flesh smolder among the flames in the home they once shared. It felt like years however since Brick never once stopped thinking about it. Sixty seconds per minute with sixty minutes per hour, twenty four hours a day with seven days a week, all lead to far more seconds in Bricks lifetime that he had wished to relive the worst moments of his life. He spent a lot of those seconds wondering how Genie would feel about his plans to smite those that took her. He wondered if she would disapprove. At the end of every one of those thoughts though, he offered his own view. He was a killer. Genie never knew that about him but he knew it and he couldn’t hide that fact from himself. He lived his life killing those who wronged others in some way and even though this wouldn’t be a government sanctioned act, he couldn’t not provide the kind of action that had always been expected of him. An assassin to the core and he would not, could not, change that now. He only hoped that if Genie could see him now, she would understand.
Dressed in all black from head to toe, even donning a black ski mask as well for initial camouflage, and a homemade flamethrower attached to his back, his silhouette was as daunting as any monster you would see stalking within the night. His looks were nothing unusual to him but the feelings within his chest had become a new found beast that he was fighting to rein in, at least for the time being. After all of Brick’s planning, there was no way he wanted anything to be spoiled before he could even get inside of Juan’s compound. Everything had to be carefully calculated so that his own death didn’t come before his more important burning revenge. Brick was most definitely ready for this and even if he wasn’t, he no longer had a choice. He could feel the constant rumbling within his chest letting him know the beast within would not be tamed any longer and who was he to deny the beast what he so rightfully sought after? It was time to begin.
Juan Escobar, the self proclaimed drug lord, would undoubtedly be expecting Brick to make a move on his compound. Juan had to of known by now that his hit-man had failed his assassination attempt. Even so, the extra man power that Juan would have certainly employed to guard his property and himself, was no match for the training and resilience that Brick had on his side. Brick hid behind trees and rolled in-between the multiple spotlights shining throughout the grounds. It felt as if he were attempting to break into a prison, something Brick had previously and successfully done in his past. There were a few guards that were on patrol but they had seemed to be more interested in cigarettes and chit chat verses proper guarding techniques. Needless to say, they were easy to sneak around.
Brick reached, what seemed to be, the last piece of shrubbery on the grounds before the entrance to Juan’s mansion was the only place left to go.
There were two men standing like statues on both sides of the entryway armed with semi automatics on their sides. Both men were built in the same manner as the hit-man that approached Brick in his hotel. They were well over 6 feet and exhibited tattooed covered bodies and bulging biceps. A small challenge to get pass had anyone but Brick tried. Foreseeing the amount of added security, Brick made sure to bring backup to his flamethrower. He reached down to his ankle and unholstered his PT-1911 while simultaneously grabbing a suppressor from his other. A few twists and another few more seconds allotted for aiming before two shots were swiftly fired. There was only silence as Brick watched the bullets pierce through the skulls of the men that were once standing in his way. There was no waiting for their death, it was instant, and their slumped bodies with pooling blood from their bullet wounds on the door mat, confirmed that even more.
A quick search of his surroundings to ensure there was no one else around, and then without falter, Brick stepped over the fallen bodies and through the threshold to his final destination. Whilst inside, Brick continued his spy tactics as he made his way through to the top of the mansion scouring for Juan. A few henchman appeared as he made his way throughout but were swiftly dealt with by either a quick choke-hold causing enough air loss for unconsciousness or a silenced bullet to the head. It was all a cake walk for Brick after spending almost 20 years within the CIA on missions just like this one. The only difference was this time around was that this job was personal. Brick could feel the difference inside of his chest with every step that he took. His heart began to beat faster the closer he came to the closed doors to which he knew Juan was behind. His heart wasn’t beating out of fear though, it was racing with anticipation.
It was eerily quiet as Brick approach the double doors which led to the only room left within the house. Kicking the doors open and then standing back, he peered around the corners of the door frame expecting an explosion of gunfire in retaliation. All Brick saw was and empty room with Juan sitting behind a giant marble desk.
“I see you’ve managed to pass my men.” Juan was cold and emotionless as he sat with a straight back and firm expression.
“It was rather anticlimactic actually.” Brick made a notable gesture of glancing throughout the room. “I mean, I was half expecting a room full of guards or at the very least for you to be greeting me with a M-16A1 machine gun and asking me to say hello.” Brick smirked and tilted his head to the side awaiting for a response.
Juan chuckled a bit and then stood up from his chair. “I think that would have been a bit cliché but yes, I see the humor there. Next time?” It was Juan’s turn to cock his head to the side.
“I don’t think there will be a next time Juan.”
“I figured as much. Which is why it’s just me here. If you were able to get through all that was bestowed upon you as just one man than I surely deserve whatever you’ve planned. You’re definitely a worthy adversary and knowing my father was killed by you makes it sting a little less.”
Brick was taken aback by the words he was hearing. He didn’t know how to react or respond. Was this a ruse to gain sympathy? If so, it was actually working slightly. How was he to end Juan’s life as he just stood before him unarmed and full of praise, practically asking for death?
“You’re full of shit Juan. Should I really stand here and believe that you are okay with me killing you? That you are now all of a sudden at peace with your fathers assassination? You are doing nothing but trying to gain the upper hand and make me falter in my decision. Revenge is a powerful thing Juan. You already know that though since you’ve proactively attempted to take yours on me.”
Juan’s mouth tips up a little on the side and his eyes begin to gleam. “You truly are talented. You’re right. I still smell the stench of copper every time I think of my father. I still taste the sourness of revenge on my tongue as I awake daily. For such a short time though, that taste of revenge was sweet and I would love nothing more than to have that back now. I have just been trying to buy some time for the back up that is now arriving through the front gates.” Juan allows a sinister laugh to escape from his mouth. “So that at least if I don’t make it out of here, I’ll have the satisfaction of knowing that neither will you.”
Brick should have known the tactic. Should have seen it a mile away. He never faltered on a mission before, but of course, this was different than any other. Brick had only seconds to make his decisions and he had to make them knowing he would soon be bombarded by more henchman as he attempted to flee. He glanced around the room once more and then remembered his work of art strapped to his back. He knew exactly what he would do now.
Gun in one hand and his other now wrapped around the nozzle to his flamethrower, he shot out both of Juan’s knee caps with one swift motion. With his swiftness, Juan never saw it coming. “I think it’s time to end the banter. Thanks for the heads up but I know that I’ll be the only one receiving revenge tonight. Morirás ”
Juan lay on the ground unable to move, staring up at Brick in disbelief. He obviously thought he had more time, a way out. There was no more waiting though, not for Brick. If he wanted to get out alive, he had to do it now.
With one sweep of his arm across the room, the place was now engulfed with the flames that spewed forth from the flamethrowers nozzle. There was no escape for Juan for he could no longer walk. He would burn alive in that room.
Closing the doors behind him, he made his way back out the way he came. As he moved throughout the house Brick proceeded to light everything he saw in flames so that when he would look behind, he felt as if he were walking straight out of hell.
Stray men had begun to make their way towards him as he made his departure but just as when he came in, he made quick disposal of them. With a bullet to their head or a flame covered body, each person he came across was disposed of. Some he even just injured so that they could feel the wrath of the flames licking away at their skin.
He finally made his way out the front doors and into the fresh air leaving behind the mass destruction he had created. He lit the front of the house up and then through his flamethrower into the flames that it had created. There was a small explosion as it was tossed within and Brick smiled as he turned and walked further away from the fire. He was far enough away to be clear of debris so he turned back around to look upon what damage he brought upon his enemy. At that moment he felt relief.
It was over. He fell to his knees in one swift movement and let out a gut wrenching moan. Slowly his moans became louder and louder until they turned into screams and heavy sobs. Tears began to stream down his face with a fierce conviction. Brick finally felt a weight lift off of his shoulders and began to feel a sense of peace as he watched Juan Escobar’s mansion burn to the ground with his still beating heart within. He even thought he could hear the faint screams of Juan and a few of his men as their flesh continued to burn from their bodies. Guttural sounds that once broke Bricks heart, now brought him a sense of twisted pleasure. Screams of the damned. Screams of the condemned and the soulless filling the air as they welcome their own just desserts for the lives they had chosen. The screams quickly faded though as well as the peace Brick had begun to feel.
He heard it before he felt it; the click of a P226 glock’s hammer being cocked back, right behind him. The standard sidearm of choice for US government agencies, was now being nudged into the back of his head, locked and most certainly loaded. Brick quickly turned his abundance of tears into menacing cackles. His laughter continued to grow as he slowly began to stand up.
“Not even five fucking minutes of happiness. You couldn’t even give me that? You are one sad son of a bitch Rialdo.”
The fact that there wasn’t a single word coming out of my mouth that was penetrating through anyones sad little brains was enough to make my own want to explode. I couldn’t take the blatant disrespect any longer. It felt as if i were in a room full of children, that at this point, I would even consider eradicating.
“Shut the fuck up, all of you!” I don’t know when the last time was that I yelled quite so fiercely but damn did it feel good.
All of my little peons finally took notice and did as I asked. You would think that in a room full of adults it wouldnt have required such time and demeaner on my part to accomplish that. I swear. Everyone’s just a fucking moron these days. Not even the state police department is exempt from them apparently.
“I’m too damn old to deal with all of this shit and every single one of you are too old to be acting like shit. There are lives on the line right now so all of you better get your fucking selves together. The only thing that matters are those little girls, leave the rest somewhere else.” I paused to allow my frustrations sink into their heads. They needed to realize that our emotions towards the situation was not going to bring anyone back. In fact, they would do nothing but stifle the investigation. If my men couldn’t put their obvious disgust aside, those girls would never make it home… alive.
“Are you all done now?” I saw a few heads shake within the crowded room and officers began to calmly sit at the tables. “Good. Now let’s get started going over all of the information we have at hand. We now have a 15 hour window left before our odds detrimentally begin to lower. A few profilers from the FBI have come in to help handle the case.” I waved for their team to emerge to the front of the room as I stepped back to give them space to take control.
I knew the FBI would step in sooner or later. This had been the fourth known abduction within the last two weeks and it seemed like our abductor’s time frame was getting smaller and smaller for keeping the girls he was taking alive. The first girl was taken on a Wednesday and was found dead on Friday. The next taken Sunday, found Tuesday, and then the other taken on Thursday and found early Saturday morning. This time, 2 girls have went missing, presumably both by our guy, on Sunday night. Our suspect seems to be escalating at a rapid pace and with it being Monday morning already, the entire department fears there isn’t much time left. He seems to be acting within a 48 hour period mostly but something has changed that has caused him to up his game. We cant take anything for granted or waste any time. Our 48 hour ticking clock has just been made a 24 hour one. Two missing girls but half of the time to find them.
We officially had our profile and it seemed liked everyone finally had their heads on straight and were actually ready to do their jobs. I knew this meant a lot to every one of them. Its not easy dealing with murder. Even worse when its multiple murders because we have already previously failed to catch our suspect. We couldnt let this go on any longer. We would find these girls alive and we would take this son of a bitch down. At least thats what I kept telling myself. It was either that, or I would succumb to the fears held deep within my soul. Fears that we would find two more bodies to add to our list. Fears of this sadistic human being, if you could even call him a human, continuing on his rampage. Fear that it would be all of my fault.
I guess thats what it all came down to after all. It wasn’t just more lives on the line. It was ultimately my job as well. That shouldn’t matter but I would be lying if I said I hadn’t at least thought about it once. Twice even. I guess that kind of makes me a bit of scumbag. I shouldn’t have any alterior motivives regarding this case. It should be about catching a killer and not keeping a job. I mean, it is about that, but man does this shit make me look bad. It’s hard not to let selfish thoughts creep within your mind occasionally. When you’re surrounded by mayhem and death on a daily basis you kind of have to advert your mind to other problems when possible.
Right now though, it really shouldn’t be possible. I had to get my mind back in the game with everyone else’s until we caught this bastard. 24 hours is a small window and there is no leeway of time to advert my mind now. We had to start looking. Following leads. If we didn’t make progress, those girls would not survive.
“Captain Schroder, sir. ” detective Ratchet called for my attention, breaking me out of my detrimental thoughts.
“Detective Ratchet, what is it?”
“We’ve already received feedback on the BOLO placed regarding our profile, sir.” Ratchet paused momentarily and drew in a long breath. Exhaling heavily he continued to speak “We finally have a lead.”
My heart felt like it skipped a beat and I began to hear it thumping from inside of my chest. I couldnt believe it. A lead. Finally. All it took was for the damn FBI to show up and take over. I loved those guys right now but at the end of the day, man I hated those fuckers. All they did was make the local police departments seem inadequate at their jobs. If we had half the money they had access to then we could be just as good. Our resources are limited leaving us crawling for help when crimes can’t be solved.
I’ll praise them now, for this means hope for those girls, but afterwards they will go back on my least favorite people list.
“Son of a bitch. Those ass clowns actually accomplished something with that bullshit profiling. Well hallelujah. Let’s get moving then.”
Every spare officer suited up with their bullet proof vests and headed toward the coordinates of the possible location of our suspect. All sirens off, we approached an abandoned old barn 10 miles outside of the abduction sites. The land looked as if it hasn’t been touched in years with the grass growing uncontrollably, masking half of the barn beneath it’s brush. Could this really be it?
The men and women of the FBI began to file out of their SUVs simultaneously, signaling for the rest of us to follow their lead. We all creeped around the perimeter of the barn and began clearing the area.
I could hear my heart beating once again and nearly felt it in my throat as I rounded my first corner. Being captain, it’s not often I’m in the field anymore, but this right here, this needed all available badges present. So here I was, and it’s not like I was nervous, or scared of the situation or anything though. I think I was just excited for finally being able to catch this guy but I know I was also terrified of finding the girls, but finding them too late. My mixed emotions were causing my heart to act erratically and at the worse times.
I shook my head slightly and signaled for the men behind me to continue on as I doubled back towards the entrance of the barn. I watched the FBI agents skulk through the open doors and begin clearing the inside. I followed in behind noticing that It seemed so quiet and untouched within. I was beginning to believe that we had been sent on a wild goose chase.
Mere seconds after that thought had crossed my mind, I heard yelling, screaming, and then bullets being fired from the loft of the barn. This was it. He was here.
“The girls aren’t up here!” An agent yelled down. “Search the grounds!”
That was my cue. As I continued to hear bullets being popped off, I began to search below, for anything. I called out to the other officers to search every where they could think of. The girls had to be some where on this property. I only hoped that within the midst of all those bullets flying that they managed to keep that bastard alive. If this search didn’t prove fruitful we would unfortunately need him.
I scoured every inch inside of that barn but came up empty handed. Not even a trace. How could that be? Silence began to fill the barn and I knew then that the fight was over and that those girls would never be found.
I walked out towards the vehicles with my head hung low. Even within the 24 hour period, we still lost. The guy was taken down and yet we still lost. I just couldnt wrap my head around it. I didn’t even care about my job at this point like I so selfishly let my mind wander to earlier. I didn’t even want this fucking job any longer. There was no justice here. Even as I watched our suspect’s dead body being carried out of the barn, it still wasn’t finished. Our ticking clock meant nothing this time around and there would be no relief or sastifaction because even in death, he still won.
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.
You were the light in my darkness that helped me find my way. You were my beacon of love that I followed everyday. You were the glimmer of hope within my despair. You were the stitch in my wounds so they’d no longer tear. The strength to my weakness and the beat of my heart. My muse and my passion that inspired my art.
You were my everything. You were my soul. So without you now, two is the toll. Death is imenent when the light has been snuffed out. Leaving the darkness to fester and mingle about.