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.”
(I’ve been keeping this one under wraps for some time because I just haven’t had it in me to finish part II. However, I’m desperate to post something, lol. Hopefully my brain will start working soon. In the meantime, please like my blog and my Facebook page “Here”. Thank you for your support in my writing journey and even through my severe blocks. I hope you enjoy this short about a war on the horizon. Not even fully declared and already there are casualties.)
Enmity Amongst Souls – Part I
“même dans la mort tu es ma vie”
I let a tear slip down my cheek and then I slowly slid my hand over Kerri’s lifeless eyes to close her lids. I could no longer bare to look into her once brilliant blue eyes to only be greeted with emptiness where so much life used to reside.
I began to cradle her head once more when I started to feel a tug on my upper arm. I tried so hard to avoid it. Whatever was pulling me away, I just couldn’t let it. I couldn’t be taken from Kerri. Not even in death. For even though she lay in my arms, no longer responsive, she was still the life that flowed within my veins.
“We have to go…” Words were said but they came through more like small whispers upon the wind being carried from miles away. There was a nagging in the back of my mind though that was telling me otherwise. I continuously tried to shut it out but as another tug came upon my arm, it was bolted forward once again.
“We have to go now Grayson. More will be coming.” I shook my head vigorously and yanked my arm back. No. I was not leaving. I would not leave.
I began to hold Kerri even tighter refusing to let her go. “Dammit Grayson, I’m not going to let you stay here to die. They will come. Let’s go.”
An even more forceful tug came, causing me to drop Kerri’s head from my arms and snap my mind back to a slice of reality.
Cam wanted me to go. He wanted me to leave the reason for my life behind me. To run from what took that life from me. They would come. I knew they would too but I just couldnt budge.
“No. I won’t. I can’t leave her.” I frantically gathered up her head once more and laid it upon my lap.
“I will drag your fucking ass down this alley. Grayson, she’s gone. Okay? I’m so sorry but we can’t just sit here and allow for grieving right now. She did not die so that you can just sit here and weep until they killed you too. Get the hell up and let’s go.”
Tears pooled out of my eyes and trickled down my cheeks landing upon Kerri’s pale, still, face. I stared blankly at the drops knowing full well that my best friend, my partner, was right. She was gone. She sacrificed herself for me and I shouldn’t allow that to go unnoticed. Her life would always reside inside of me so why could I not walk away?
“I just can’t leave her body Cam. It’s not right.”
“If you don’t, you’ll body will be next to hers. You know she wouldn’t want that. Take my hand. We have to go.” Cam held out one hand to me and put his other to his head, cringing in pain. “I feel them getting close. We are running out of time.”
I glanced back at Kerri and then slowly began to lay her head on the ground as I slipped out from under her. I took Cam’s hand and rose to my feet. “Yeah, okay. You’re right man.” I stifled back the rest of my tears and tried to shift the focus of my mind.
I knew a war had been brewing between the Sans Couer and the Chasseurs Sans Âmes but I didn’t realize that it had finally hit it’s all time high until today. I knew we weren’t ready to fight the Sans Couer at the level they were exhibiting, so I wasn’t quite sure what we were going to do. The Âmes had a lot to prepare for and without Kerri, our strongest sorcière and love of my life, we were all as good as dead.
Even beginning to flee now, I had that feeling in my gut that we would all eventually be laying in a pool of our own blood, and on the cold hard ground, by the end of this war. This would eventually be all for naught.
It’s been a busy few days and I haven’t written much but I feel I should post a little something. So here is a small excerpt from something I’ve been working on…
“Should I continue to ignore my own heart for the sake of others? Should I constantly fight for what is right for other people while all the while im the one dying inside? When does it get to the point that I do something for me?”
“I dont believe you were put here on this earth to live for yourself. I believe that you were specifically put here to be sacrificial. That sucks, but every now and again, the world needs a savior from the dark underbelly. If not, the world would surely go to hell.”
“What if I just let it?”
“Let what? The world go to hell?”
“Yes. If the world can not save themselves why should I?”
“Unless you have forgotten darling, you are apart of this world too. If they all go to hell… So do you. Then we can all be fucking miserable for all eternity, together. Im ready babe, go for it. Condemn everyone to hell because you’re too damn selfish. See how well you do with that guilt verses the pain you think you feel now.”
I just stared at him. I couldn’t make myself do anything else. He was right on multiple accounts. I was being selfish and if I allowed myself to continue doing so, I wouldnt be able to survive the aftermath of guilt that would be swimming around in my head. Even the thoughts of only helping because I personally wouldn’t survive the guilt is just another form of my selfishness. I just couldn’t get away from it. I was a lost cause to this universe. I couldn’t even begin to fathom on why, someone who didn’t want to see past their own self, was supposed to fight for everyone else.