Chapter 2
“She’s Chinese, you hick piece of shit.” Ian sneered and kicked the guard. Once, twice for good measure before he turned to the one standing next to Mei. “You want to add something?”
The guard shook his head and inched back from the spreading pool of blood.
“How many of you are back here?” Ian demanded, sniffing the air, disgusted with the stink of mildew and stale beer, getting his first glimpse of the place.
A long murky corridor seemingly stretched out forever in both directions. Sick yellow walls stood covered in posters and obscene graffiti. The narrow space stacked with liquor crates as a series of low hanging lights cast a dingy pallor over the proceedings.
“Two more by the office. On the other side.”
“Ian?” Mei piped up from beside him, redirecting his attention. “They know we’re here.”
Glancing up, he caught the red light of the security camera observing them. Distracted, Ian didn’t hear the door at the end of the hall open before gunfire erupted. A shot exploded by Ian’s face, ricocheting off the wall. On instinct, he grabbed the guard in front of Mei and threw him forward as another round assailed them.
Mei side-stepped the falling body and slid her weapon out, firing, sending them scurrying for cover. Once the smoke cleared, two guards dashed across the narrow hall to an opposite door. Mei, now ready for them, she hit the one closest in the kneecap, sending him tumbling to the ground, cursing. His counterpart, stunned, tried to aim, but Ian was quicker. He was on him in two long strides, seizing him by the throat. With the other hand, he snatched the gun outright, fingers snapping as he spun him headfirst into the wall.
“Where the fuck is Dwyer?”
“Please, man, I got a wife and kids.”
Ian glanced over at Mei. She rolled her eyes, making a face.
“That won’t work with me,” Ian answered, pulling him back only to slam him face first into the wall again.
“Please—”
“Where is he?”
“I don’t—” The guard didn’t finish. They were interrupted by a door opening and a blurred figure making a mad, frantic dash for the end of the hall.
“Sonofabitch!” Ian swore as the door slammed shut behind their intended target.
There was no telling how long Dwyer planned to barricade himself in the room at the end of the hall. Or if he was calling in for backup? Ian needed a plan and fast. First, the bodyguard pinned in his grasp. Done with him, he slammed him into the concrete wall, leaving the man a crumpled but still breathing pile on the floor. Now, what to do with Dwyer? Ian glanced around his gaze falling on the cases of liquor shoved against the walls. Inspiration struck. He smashed his boot into the closest crate as Mei watched, curious, eyebrows raised.
“You need a drinknow?”
Ian threw her a look before breaking open several more. The sting of alcohol wafted into the tight space, pungent and sharp.
“Hey!” Ian called into the camera. “See this?” He reached into his jacket for the book of matches he’d pocketed from the bar. “Yeah, that’s right,” Ian explained, twirling them in hand. “You have thirty seconds to open this door before I burn you and everyone else in this building alive.”
“How is this part of the plan?” Mei grumbled from beside him.
Ian ignored her and waited before adding. “Twenty seconds. What’s it going to be?”
As seconds dragged on, Ian started to consider the possibility Dwyer might call his bluff. When, to his relief, the lock turned, and the door opened, Mei’s weapon leveled as the terrified figure of Dwyer emerged, shaky revolver in hand.
“You are one sick fuck, know that?” Dwyer remarked in baffled wonder, his gun trained on Ian.
“You have no idea,” Ian replied. He crowded into Dwyer’s space with Mei stepping in from behind, keeping an eye out on the hallway for any surprises.
“What the hell do you people want?”
“Information,” Ian replied, all business, gesturing for him to lower his weapon. “But first, get your gun out of my face before I have my friend here put a bullet in you for the hell of it.”
Dwyer lowered the weapon to his side, keeping his gaze fixed on Ian. He panted for breath as sweat dripped down his brow, and his large gut shook as he struggled and gasped for air.
“Now, will you cooperate, or do we have to hurt you?”
“If I tell you what you want, you won’t kill me?”
Ian smirked, chuckling under his breath. “Oddly enough, asshole. You have a few friends. Don’t fuck me, and you’ll limp out of here. Understood?”
Dwyer bobbed his head up and down, eying Ian uneasily as he continued. “Mallory. The word is he’s bought himself a new heart. I need the hospital doing the transplant.”
“What makes you think I know anything about that?” Dwyer protested, paling over Mallory’s name. “You have your—”
Ian didn’t offer him a chance to finish; without a word, he slammed the butt of his gun into his nose. Dwyer screamed, reaching for his face, hands scrambling.