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019 - A Fitting Eulogy

 
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Chris




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PostPosted: Mon Jun 07, 2010 1:36 am    Post subject: 019 - A Fitting Eulogy Reply with quote Add User to Ignore List

Off to the side under a bed sheet sat a large, locked chest. Felix eyed it, sipped a glass of wine, and walked to it. He tossed the sheet aside and placed a hand on each side, studying the container. His own personal Pandora's Box. He punched in the combination and it lid popped open softly. Darkness inside. Felix flicked on the light above to reveal the contents.

"Beautiful," he whispered. Inside lay two H&K USP handguns and a pair of Uzi submachine guns with extended stocks. A handful of magazines for each weapon was neatly piled in the corner of the chest next to thermite and frag grenades. At the center lay a full suit of black Kevlar body armor per use of the world's most advanced law enforcement, constructed and customized personally by Felix with metal plates, a reinforced ballistic face mask, and protective goggles.

Enough armor and weapons to turn him into a walking tank.

Felix shut the chest and sealed it. The Boss had an estate just outside Johannesburg. He knew the location because he had been there many times before. Within hours, Felix knew, men would come to kill him. The last thing they would expect was for him to show up at their doorstep.

Felix hoped Vander was there.

--------------------------

Several hours later, just outside Johannesburg...

The walls were streaked with blood. Bullet holes riddled the coating in every direction. Blasted chunks of wood, brick, and flesh littered the floor. There were bloodied bodies everywhere, propped against the wall, scattered on the stairs, face down in pools of their own blood. In the bar, a man lay amongst a hundred shattered liquor bottles, his suit soiled with gore.

It was a massacre.

The foyer was a scene out of a horror movie. Felix had "parked" his truck in it, instantly killing two unfortunate mercenaries who had been patrolling. Their corpses were crushed beneath his tires. The pair of guards who had responded from the balcony above found themselves set ablaze by thermite, their screams filling the halls.

But it was useless.

Felix, having known the location of the estate's armory, had set off its explosives stock with a homemade bomb belt constructed from his grenade stash. The explosion had rocked the house and killed the armorer inside.

Now, all was quiet. Felix, covered from head to toe in his armored suit, stalked up the stairs. He had been hit many times, of course. But without their automatic weapons, The Boss' private army was limited to their standard 9mm sidearms. Their bullets, except for the luckiest of shots, were harmless.

The stairs were slick with blood. Felix tried best to keep his balance as he reached the top, an Uzi in each hand. He was sweating profusely inside his suit, but knowing he owed his life to it. Raising both submachine guns to his side, he advanced slowly.

Clank, clank. Clank, clank. His boots- annoyingly- informed him and anybody else listening in that he was near. A face cautiously peaked around the corner and, upon seeing the black devil before him, instantly recoiled back behind the wall. Felix raised his weapons and let loose several bursts of fire.

He waited.

The man dropped into view, gurgling. Felix stared until the man stopped moving, and he stepped forward once again.

The double panel door was closed- and locked, it appeared. It was cheap, though. Cheap wood, cheap lock. Typical. He sprayed fire into it before smashing in the left panel with his steel-toed boot.

"Well, look at you, motherfucker," Felix snarled behind his mask. The Boss- bald, cowering, as unimposing as a crime syndicate leader could be- sat before him at his desk, nervous and comical all at once. Amare Vander stood beside, aiming a handgun at Felix. He fired twice, unexpectedly. The first bullet clanged off Felix's left shoulder plate. The second hit him square in the chest and he once again found the breath knocked out of him as he fell back through the door way. Vander fired more, but Felix was on the ground.

"You should have listened, brotha," Vander told him as he stood before him, aiming between his eyes. Felix turned over; the bullets clanged harmlessly off his back plate.

Click. Out of ammo. Felix rose, still breathing heavily. Vander backed off, incredulous.

"Felix-" A blow to the throat crushed Vander's larynx, and in an instant a KA-BAR had severed his femoral artery. Vander dropped like a bag of rocks, bleeding disgustingly on the floor, looking up at Felix, who still had one hand around his throat. Vander gasped, reached outward to Felix.

He stared until he died. The Boss watched.

"Look, Felix, this is a misunderstanding, you just-"

"You think I killed two dozen people tonight over a misunderstanding?" Felix cackled and turned serious very quickly. "Why did you want me out of Johannesburg?" The Boss shifted uncomfortable. Felix stepped forward, grabbed him by his collar and pulled him over the desk. He shoved the bulky but weak man against the wall. "Talk!"

"I-I-you had become a liability, ther-there's so much more going on, Felix...I have my sources, y-yes! My sources...as the tournament carries on, there-" Felix tore his KA-BAR out of Vander's corpse and put it to The Boss' throat.

"You better say something useful- soon."

"Felix- lo-look...I have agents within the government. Things are going on that are bigger than me, bigger than you-"

"What things?" Felix demanded, shaking the Boss and pressing the blade against his throat.

"I can't!"

"Then you're no goo-"

"Wait, wait goddamit!" Felix dropped him and stepped back, sheathing his KA-BAR. "I can help you. In the basement, beneath the manor. I've procured something. Just for you, Felix. Just for you. It's military issue, it's tough, it's...well, highly illegal. But you can have it! You need a fingerprint to access it. I'll give it to you. Just let me go. I'll leave the country- shit, I'll leave the continent, Felix."

"A fingerprint scanner, you say?" Felix asked, thinking for a moment.

"Y-yes," The Boss said, regaining his confidence. He dusted himself off and rose to his feet.

Felix pondered before unsheathing his KA-BAR once again.

-------------------------

Felix entered Johannesburg as the sun rose on the horizon, shining down upon the city beautifully. The police would find nothing but a slaughter and Felix's own discarded armor and weapons at the estate. It was a new world, but still a violent one, as Felix knew all too well. His body ached and cried out in pain, bruises covering him from head to toe, but he was alive and his enemies were dead.

That was all that mattered.

And, hidden in a compartment beneath the bed of the truck, lay a man-sized case of surprisingly light weight, procured from the basement of the manor. What was inside...well, Felix would take a better look at that later.

As he took the next exit, Felix casually rolled his window and flicked The Boss' thumb out the window in a bloody plastic bag. A fitting eulogy for a vile man.
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