Vespers shot the one who saw him. As the next two turned towards him he shot them in the heads. He did this running towards the reception kiosk, which was already piled with the corpses of security. His arm pivoted just so slightly as he ran. There was a slight curve to the wall long, shiny teakwood slats (with splashes of raw wood bullet holes disrupting the amber smoothness) suggesting a mild wave. He leaned rightward and shot the next hooligan.
Professor Chimes dove into the pile of corpses and burrowed, still clutching the briefcase of money. He made a fort of the dead, and pulled the whole of it with him into the tightest corner of the kiosk.
Vespers dropped two more of the assailants, then rolled into the kiosk after Chimes, who was shaking uncontrollably. “We’ve got to get out of here!” Chimes howled.
“We’ve got to survive this, then we’ve got to get out of here.”
“Well there’s no way…”
“Just be quiet.”
A squadron of masked men rushed through the lobby. Had they focused on the kiosk, Vespers and Chimes would have failed the first part of Vesper’s test. Instead, they surged up the stairs intent on taking the upper floors of the building.
Vespers finished reloading his gun. Chimes peeked through the armpit of a dead guard. “I guess you killed all the guys who cared about us.”
A chunk of wood exploded behind them.
“Wrong.” Vespers fired blindly over the counter of the kiosk, darted his head around the side, spotted their new attacker, and fired again. There was a wet thump and then things were quiet for a moment. Then the muffled sounds of shots boomed from above them.
Vespers mused. Chimes pushed the corpse off himself.
“Vespers, let’s go.”
“Maybe not.”
“What?”
“What if these guys take the minister? Then the DNA falls into the ‘wrong hands.’”
“Who the hell cares?” Chimes slapped his briefcase. “We got paid!”
“That suitcase upstairs in a one of a kind thing. We get it back, we can sell it again.”
“I’d like to live to spend the money we’ve got! You can go after the other suitcase. I’m going to take this one and my skin and leave!”
Chimes stood up. Glass shattered and bullets rattled the lobby.
Vespers smiled coldly. “We’ve got friends out front. No I think the safest course is back up.”
“But…”
“Come on. I’ll keep you alive. I’m going to burn this bridge.” He pulled a hand grenade from the lining of his coat, pulled the pin and flung it through the gaping broken front window of the Ministry of Tourism.
A loud concussion split the air. Curls of smoke swirled in from the outside, to be split apart by rifle fire. Bullets filled the lobby once again, but it was empty.
Vespers and Chimes were climbing the stairs, up towards the sound of fighting that echoed in the stairwell.
--Dan Kilian
------------------------------------------------------ Part I
------------------------------------------------------ Part II
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