Good Intentions - Adrian Hell #6 (Adrian Hell Series) (34 page)

Huh?

I lower my gaze and see four men standing maybe ten feet from me, forming a neat line in front of the extravagantly-decorated glass doors. They’re all dressed the same, in fitted white shirts, suit pants, and shoulder holsters. They’re all big guys, with tanned complexions and various styles of facial hair. Their weapons aren’t drawn—they’re standing with their hands clasped in front of them.

The guy second from the left steps forward. “Horizon’s been expecting you. Come with us and we’ll take you to him. There’s no need to cause a scene.”

I move my left leg back slightly, dropping into a loose southpaw stance. I bring my right hand up, ready to use it as a weapon if I need to.

The guy holds a hand up. “The Order has no desire for any further conflict. Don’t make this hard on yourself.”

I shrug. “If they didn’t want more conflict, they shouldn’t have killed my friend. Or kidnapped my… Kaitlyn.”

“Look, I don’t know about all that, alright? Nor do I care about it. I’m not one of their assets. I work for Pierce. My only job right now is to take you to see the man upstairs. If you wanna make that a problem, fine. They just said you have to be alive… not conscious.”

He moves his hand to rest on the butt of his gun.

I raise an eyebrow.

Cocky little prick, isn’t he?

Ah, well. Fuck him.

I breathe in heavily, embracing the flow of adrenaline, and glare at each of these guys in turn. I’m going to take them out, steal their guns, walk in through the front door, and kill anyone who gets in my way. Then I’m going to—

Adrian, listen to the man, alright? I want to go in there and rip everyone’s head off just as much as you do, but this guy’s giving you a free pass right to the big man’s door. Take the easy option, save your strength, and you avoid having to fight hundreds of guys one-handed and unarmed. I’m just saying…

I sigh.

It’s coming to something when I’m so angry, even the voice in my head that represents all of my uncontrollable rage and fury starts making more sense than I do.

Fine. You win.

I nod to the guy. “Alright, ass-wipe, lead the way.”

I walk toward them, push through the line, and walk casually through the doors.

Holy crap!

This place is incredible!

The entrance is spacious, and the décor is lavish beyond words. Just to the right as you enter, there’s a line of men and women, dressed formally and ready to offer me a hot towel… some hand oil, I think… some tea… chocolate… fruit…

Jesus.

Behind them, away to the right, is the front desk. There are two people standing behind it, ready to serve. The whole thing looks as if it’s made out of gold. To be fair, knowing this place, it probably is!

The men quickly follow me inside and move to surround me, forming a loose square. We walk across the lobby, past a huge, star-shaped fountain, which is periodically shooting jets of water into the air, and over to the elevators. The whole wall looks like a weird, golden honeycomb, with marble pillars running up between the plethora of windows.

One of the guys in front of me steps forward and pushes the button. A moment later, the doors slide open with a quiet hiss. Inside is a hotel employee dressed in a red velvet tunic with a gold trim, and a matching hat. He looks young and fresh-faced, can’t be older than twenty. He smiles and nods eagerly to us.

The two guys in front of me drag him out unceremoniously, then walk inside the elevator. I feel a hand on my shoulder, urging me forward. I stand my ground, turn my head slightly to look at the hand, then more to address the guy behind me. “Move it, or I’ll break it.”

He shakes his head. “Whatever.”

He moves it.

I step inside slowly. I’m not thrilled about being in an enclosed space with these guys, but I don’t really have much choice, I guess. They follow me in and press the button. Another moment passes and the doors glide shut. The elevator surges gently and we begin our climb.

I glance casually around, noting the positioning of each guy.

“So, are we going straight to see your boss? Or is this, like, the first of three elevators we need to take?”

“What’s it to you?” replies the guy in front of me on the right.

I shrug. “I’m just not crazy about heights. I like to know how far off the ground I am, y’know…”

Silence.

“Yeah, this takes us straight to his suite.”

“Ah, excellent.”

I glance at the console of buttons on the left side. We’ve got thirty floors left to climb. Twenty-nine… Twenty-eight…

I don’t like the fact I’m surrounded before I even get up there. I know for a fact Horizon’s suite is well protected. I need the freedom to fight, should things go south up there, and I can’t do that with these four ass-hats standing around me.

I look around the carriage idly. It’s pretty spacious, for an elevator. The doors are lined on the inside with a red velvet padding, like a cushion. There’s a gold handrail on each of the other three sides, roughly level with my hips. Every side is decorated the same way, with a mirror above the handrail, and the same padding as the doors below it.

Like on the way in, I’m standing in the middle, with a guy in each corner. All guns still holstered.

Amateurs.

I close my eyes for a moment, planning each move in my head, seeing what works and what doesn’t. I need to hit Bottom Left and Bottom Right first. They can grab me with minimal effort, so they’re more dangerous in this situation. Top Left and Top Right need to think, turn, and then act, which takes valuable seconds. I’ll be ready for them by the time they’re looking, so whatever they’re thinking of will be ineffective.

I open my eyes again, feeling a renewed focus. I take another look at the console.

Twenty-two… Twenty-one…

Alright. Showtime.

Time slows down as my Inner Satan gets to work. He knows what he needs to do.

I take a small step back and swing my right arm clockwise, hard and fast. No one’s expecting anything, and my cast makes clean contact with Bottom Right’s face. The second I see him start to drop, I jump backward, elbow first, and connect with Bottom Left’s jaw. I force my body into him, pinning him to the side, stunned. I quickly grab the rail on my left, lean back harder against the guy, and whip my right leg up, like I’m kicking a field goal. I time it perfectly. Just as Top Left’s turning around, my foot buries itself into his balls. I watch for a split-second as his eyes bulge from the impact.

I spin around, grab Bottom Left’s collar, and fling him across the carriage, turning as I do for extra momentum. I see him collide with Top Right, who was reaching for his gun. I look over at Bottom Right, who’s sitting on the floor with a vacant expression. I take one step toward him and thrust my knee into his left temple. He was just the right height. His head slams against the side of the elevator, and I see his eyes roll back in his head.

He’s done.

I turn to look at Top Left. He’s still upright, but bent over, clutching his balls. Poor guy. No matter what the situation, I always feel a sliver of remorse after delivering a good kick to the nuts. Unfortunately, his day’s not about to get any better…

I step to meet him and swing my cast down at his head. It arcs with refined accuracy and hits him on his jaw. He slumps sideways, landing heavily on the floor.

The last two guys are still fumbling against each other, stunned by the attack. Bottom Left still has his back to me. I snake my left arm around his throat and squeeze as I drag him away from the corner. I move him out to the left slightly, freeing up just enough space for me to launch another kick. This one catches Top Right in his gut. He doubles over as the wind is knocked out of him, and I throw another kick, meeting his head with my foot. It connects with his face, and I hear the squelch as the impact crushes the cartilage in his nose.

He’s done.

I re-focus on Bottom Left. He’s struggling against my grip, but he doesn’t stand a chance. I squeeze tighter and move my right hand behind his head, grab the crook of my elbow with my left hand and push forward as hard as I can on the base of his skull. I push my chest into him and count.

One…

Two…

I feel him sag unconsciously against me. I let go of the chokehold and he falls to the floor.

I’m breathing heavily. I feel like my heart’s about to break through my ribcage. I look at the console.

Six… Five… Four…

Not bad.

I reach down and take the gun from the nearest body. It’s another P226 look-a-like. Full mag—I can tell by the weight.

Two… One…

I stand in the middle of the carriage and aim the gun at the doors.

DING!

The doors slide smoothly open.

Oh.

There’s a semicircle of… eight men, armed with either assault rifles or shotguns, all aiming them right at me.

I stare into the eyes of each and every one of them. No one speaks. Their aim doesn’t falter for a second. There’s no hesitation. No doubt. If I so much as sneeze, they’ll shoot me.

Shit.

I lower my gun and nod a curt greeting. “Hey, fellas…”

28

10:37
AST

One of the guys standing in the middle takes a step forward and gestures to my gun with the barrel of his. “Drop it, asshole.”

I do. Not as if I have much choice, is it?

I hold my hands out to the sides. “Am I that predictable?”

The guy doesn’t say anything, he just points at something behind me. I look over my shoulder. In the top corner of the carriage is a security camera.

I look back at him. “Sneaky bastards… I didn’t see that. Good job I wasn’t trying to be discreet, eh?”

He smiles humorlessly. “Come on… nice and easy. Horizon’s waiting for you.”

I step over the bodies and out of the elevator. The group quickly moves to surround me, revealing the hallway ahead of me. I recognize it from when I was here a couple of days ago. Nothing’s changed. We walk halfway along and stop outside the door to Horizon’s suite.

One of the guys knocks on it, then opens it without waiting for a response. He gestures me inside. I take a deep breath and step over the threshold, into the belly of the beast. I don’t know what to expect, or what’s going to happen, but I do know, however this plays out, I’m done with The Order.

I look around the room. It’s pretty much as I remember it, except, thankfully, Horizon’s not naked in a hot tub this time. He’s sitting calmly on one of the sofas in front of me. He’s wearing his usual white suit, and he’s sipping what I assume is some kind of tea from a cup, while holding a matching saucer delicately beneath it.

He nods courteously as I walk into the room proper. “Hello, Adrian.”

I wave dismissively. “Whatever. Where is she?”

He frowns. “Where’s who?”

I roll my eyes. “Don’t bullshit me, Colonel Sanders.”

He sets the cup and saucer down on the small table beside him. He stands, straightens his suit, and walks toward me. “Oh, you mean Kaitlyn? Your… therapist? I must say, in all my years, I’ve never known an asset seek therapy before…”

I shrug. “Yeah, well, in all my years, I’ve never given less of a fuck about what someone thinks. Where is she?”

He holds my gaze for a moment, and then half-turns, glancing over his shoulder toward his bedroom door at the far end of the suite. “Bring them out, Mr. Pierce.”

I look over as the door opens, and watch as Kaitlyn and Yaz are ushered out by Pierce, who’s walking casually behind them, holding a pistol.

I take a step toward them. “Kaitlyn… kid… are you both okay?”

They each nod nervously.

I look at Horizon. “Let them go, you piece of shit. It’s me you’re pissed at. Deal with
me
.”

He strokes the loose, mottled skin around his throat, and then gestures to the sofa. “Take a seat.”

I shake my head. “Not until you let them go.”

His expression hardens, and his eyes narrow. “They won’t be going anywhere until me and you have had a nice little chat. So sit… down.”

He sits down farther along from where he was before. He leans back, crosses his legs, and waits.

I glance over at Kaitlyn. She looks terrified, but she doesn’t seem hurt, which is the important thing. Same with the kid. I move over to the sofa and sit beside him. I lean forward and rest my arms on my knees. “Okay, let’s talk.”

Horizon smiles. “Thank you. Now, first of all, I want to clear something up. I’m not angry with you. I’m disappointed, sure. You have a lot of potential, and could’ve one day played an important role within The Order. But… I underestimated how difficult you would find letting go of your old life, of your old ways. I knew it would be a problem with you from the very beginning, and it’s my mistake for giving you too much credit.”

I sigh. “Look, I’ve got no problem with the idea of leaving my old life behind me. Yeah, it’s definitely been hard, but there was very little left of my old life anyway. The issue I’ve had is that you expect me to risk my life, to kill people for you, without any kind of reason, and I won’t work like that.”

He nods. “Okay. Tell me why. Explain to me what your big problem is with the way I run my assets.”

“I’m incredibly good at what I do, but I won’t kill someone if I don’t believe they have it coming.”

“And who are you to decide what someone’s life is worth, Adrian? What makes your moral compass such an authority on whether someone should live or die?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

He smiles like he feels bad for me all of a sudden. “Adrian, I’m far better informed to make such decisions than you will ever be. The Order of Sabbah has existed for centuries, and has systems and infrastructures in place that help us see when people’s actions are not suited to the greater good of our society. I am Horizon. It’s not a name, it’s a title, and I am not the only person to have it bestowed upon them. The title is earned by proving to a committee of superiors that you have the skills to plan ahead, to accurately predict the outcome of situations other people aren’t even aware of yet. Once you can do that, you can see where someone’s path is leading them. If that path shows they’re working toward a goal in direct conflict with our own, they’re eliminated.”