Read To Kill a Grey Man Online
Authors: D C Stansfield
Jonathan sat in the driver’s seat of the cold car.
The Grey Man was peering at the laptop and
talking to Surge and his dad on the microphone.
There was nothing for Jonathan to do.
It was almost pitch black outside and the wind
whistled through the leaves moving the trees about.
He quietly opened the door ensuring the
interior light did not come on and made his way to a tree to relieve himself.
After he had finished he stood perfectly
still.
He could just about see two men
creeping through the undergrowth either side of the car.
Fear hit him hard and a cold shiver went up
his spine.
He stood mesmerized, frozen to
the spot wondering what to do, trying to remember all the lessons Surge had
taught him.
Finally as the man closest
to him passed by, Jonathan bent down and picked up an old log.
He ran across and crashed it down on his head
with all his strength.
There was a
sickening sound of a skull breaking.
At
the same time the other man yanked open the passenger door and tried to bring
his weapon to bear.
A small hole
appeared in the middle of his forehead as The Grey Man shot him with a pistol
he had concealed under the laptop.
The
man crumpled to the grass in a heap.
The Grey Man then got out of the car checked the body to ensure he
was dead then walked to where Jonathan was standing.
The man he had downed was now writhing in
pain on the floor, blood spilling out of his cracked skull.
The Grey Man immediately put two
shots into him, head and heart, the noise echoing through the trees.
“Drag these two into the bushes,” he calmly said
to Jonathan as he climbed back into the car and put his headphones on.
“Sorry,” The Grey Man said to The Assassin.
“A small problem, now fixed.
You have two men outside the door to your left
and a number coming your way both from the right and left.”
“Let’s make some noise,” said The Assassin.
The Grey Man hit the detonator and the
explosives he and Jonathan had set went off with a terrific bang one after the
other shaking the windows of the hotel.
The
Grey Man punched some buttons on the computer and then spoke into the microphone
which went through the hotels PA system.
“Everyone out,” he screamed.
“There
is army and police swarming through the gates!”
His panicked voice bounced off each wall.
He repeated his message, “Everyone out.
Out!”
He could see on his screen that some of the numbers going towards The
Assassin were now moving in the opposite direction.
Some were just stopped.
Panic abounded.
“I suggest now,” said The Assassin into his mike.
“Lights!”
All the lights went out including the emergency back-up.
The hallways were
pitch
black.
The Assassin flipped down his night
sight and took the reloaded Uzi in one hand and the elephant pistol in the other.
He calmly and silently walked out the door
into the corridor.
It was the last thing
anyone expected.
Once he was in the
centre of the corridor he could see the shapes of the men waiting, all standing
out in the green light.
He opened up,
the screaming buzz of the Uzi offset by the powerful booming of the elephant pistol.
Every round appeared to find its mark, the
Uzi cutting men in half and the elephant pistol punching through any scrap of
cover and killing the man behind.
By this time Surge had come up from the other side of the hotel
running through the darkness using his night sight.
Green men came and went and he was no less
effective killing or breaking any in his path.
The Grey Man continued to shout over the PA system,
“Get out.
Get out or you will be trapped.”
It was mayhem and in seconds it turned into a rout with men
discarding their weapons, jumping from windows, crashing through emergency
exits or running out the back door.
In between shouting on the PA, The Grey Man gave Surge and The
Assassin a running commentary on what was happening and who was where, ensuring
any that stayed behind were met by one or other of them and dealt with.
They both moved from floor to floor clearing
all in their way.
Finally it was all over.
The Surgeon and The Assassin met by the front staircase.
They nodded to each other, their ears ringing
from the gunshots.
Surge spoke to The
Grey Man, “What do you have?”
“An almost empty hotel,” he said and all the lights came back on.
“I only have two men moving.
Both of them are in the glass room directly
below you, John Sea and his Enforcer.
Elsewhere in the building everything is static.
The ones that have left are still
running.
If they stop and rally I will
let you know.”
The Assassin went over to a small table that had an ornate lamp on
it.
He took out the Sig and carefully
laid it down with the Uzi.
He then
removed the Uzi holster and remaining magazines.
He and Surge lay down their night sights.
The Assassin reloaded the elephant pistol and
slipped it into its shoulder holster, adjusting the fit of both that and the
Glock
.
Surge
replaced the knives in their sheaths but took one in his right hand.
Then they both walked slowly down the stairs.
John Sea was pacing nervously.
He wore a waist holster and a powerful Smith
and Wesson M7P.357 which sat in a new leather holster.
He had practiced with it many times and he
felt confident he could hit what he aimed for.
On his desk were two big hard plastic suitcases and he constantly touched
them each time he walked pass.
Keith was
much calmer, sitting in a large green leather upholstered chair dressed in a
smart black suit.
He had a shoulder
holster on with a large Magnum research desert eagle which he had never fired
and he only carried because John Sea wanted him to.
They could both hear the bedlam going on,
screams of pain and panic, the lights going on and off, the PA system with The Grey
Man’s voice issuing warnings, explosions, automatic gun fire and the boom of
the elephant pistol.
Then silence.
John Sea looked
out of the corner of heavily draped windows and could see unarmed men running down
the drive for all they were worth.
He
turned to his enforcer, “Go look and see what is happening.
Then get back to me quickly.”
The Enforcer walked over to the large sliding glass door, slid it back
then crossed the dining room.
He opened
the door quietly and stepped carefully through but Surge had been warned by The
Grey Man.
Keith felt the punch coming
and threw himself to one side rolling down the hall to come neatly to his feet.
In front of him were The Assassin and
the Surgeon.
The Assassin’s guns were in
his holsters and he stood calmly perfectly in balance.
The Surgeon had a wicked looking throwing
knife in his right hand cocked ready to throw.
“You can leave him to me,” said Surge.
The Assassin nodded and went through the open
door.
“Take your jacket off,” said Surge to The Enforcer, which he did.
The huge Magnum desert eagle was now hanging
at an odd angle due to the roll.
“With
the thumb and forefinger of your left hand carefully remove the gun and throw it
down the corridor.” The Enforcer complied.
Surge then undid his knife belt and he threw that and all his knives in
the other direction.
“I think you and I should settle this like men.
Don’t you?” he said.
The Enforcer smiled a big grin that took in his whole face.
He took off his jacket and his gun holster
and flexed his huge muscles.
In front of
him was a much smaller man, almost twice his age, he had to stop himself from
laughing, this was what he lived for.
“Oh,
little man,” he said.
“I am going to rip
your head off and piss down your neck.”
The Surgeon stepped into the centre of the room.
He placed one leg slightly in front of the
other with feet pointed at ten to two then bent his knees, both hands came up
in front of him, the left extended slightly in front of the right, hands open,
fingers curled.
“Whenever you are ready,”
he said.
The Enforcer attacked.
He
threw some simple jabs to find range which Surge just moved his head to avoid.
Then he went for a fast, big, left handed
swing.
Surge moved back to let it go by
and then his right hand smashed into the back of The Enforcer’s fist,
breaking two of the small bones there.
The
pain was incredible and The Enforcer jumped back, his right hand cradling his
left, “Shit!” he cried.
Surge calmly took his stance back up.
The Enforcer rushed in with two simultaneous
attacks, a right roundhouse kick to the leg and a right hand to the face.
Surge brought up his left leg and as the kick came towards him, at
full power and blinding speed he stamped down on The Enforcer’s kneecap.
The power of the kick plus Surge’s stamp
smashed the kneecap to pieces.
He
blocked the right hand punch to the face, stepped in, punched under the armpit
to disrupt the lymphatic gland and continued the movement round so his elbow took
out The Enforcer’s jaw.
This spun
The Enforcer so his body was wide and open so with his right hand, Surge power
punched into his heart, stopping it dead.
The Enforcer crashed to the ground dying.
Surge looked down on the body of another man he had broken.
He wondered how many he done this to.
“Too many to count,”
came
the answer in his head.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
John Sea watched as the little man came into the room.
The light by the door was dim and it was
difficult to see over such a distance but as he walked closer he appeared like
a ghost, insubstantial until he became all too solid, dressed in black with
both weapons holstered.
Somehow he no
longer looked old, he looked relaxed, confident and in control.
“I have a deal for you,” said John Sea nervously.
He walked slowly over to both suitcases.
He lifted the lids so The Assassin could see
what was inside.
Both were filled with
money.
“There is five million pounds in
each,” he said.
“If you let me go I will
wire you ten million more.
I promise to
disappear and you will never hear from me again.
Do we have a deal?”
The Assassin stopped ten feet away and like a voice from the grave
said, “No.”
John Sea looked at the little man who stood so still with his hands
by his side.
On his left hip was the
Glock
, above that in the shoulder holster was the elephant pistol
for a right hand draw.
John Sea reasoned
that the elephant pistol would be difficult to handle so you would control it
with your natural hand, your strongest hand.
Most people were right handed so it made sense that this assassin would
be the same.
The elephant pistol was
massive, no way could it be drawn quickly, so the odds were these he reasoned;
could this old man draw left handed or with his wrong hand the
Glock
, as quickly as John Sea could draw his weapon with
his right hand?
He doubted it.
He had practiced with the Smith and Wesson
over and over.
It was lightweight and
easy to
draw,
surely this would be no contest.