A second chance

[Thinker]

The sun was hanging in the sky reluctant to slip all the way behind the horizon, casting long shadows over the sprawling small city of Burn Hill. With the approaching night, the day working citizens rushed to buses and underground trains toward the safety of their homes. Neon signs flickered on to entice the pedestrian to explore a shop or business, huge advertising screens littered the high rises lit up the walls and streets. The city was in the natural process of changing of the guard, from day to night as it had always done and will continue to do.

A lone figure stood in his on the second floor of his brick house on the hill in front of a bullet proof window. Sipping at the mug of tea, his dark suit jacket rest on the back of his office chair a few feet behind him. His shoulder holster hugged his torso and the 9mm pearl handle gun rested in it. His green eyes swept the darkening city, his damaged right hand slipped in his pant pocket upon the door between the floor to ceiling bookshelves opened. "Mr. Williams," Twitch said softly. "Do you need anything else before I go?"

"No, thank you," Reese answered sipping the cooling brew once again, the door clicked softly shut. It had been a rough day for him, Reese had attended the funeral of his late bodyguard, Peter. The widow cried heavily and was supported by many family members, he had offered his condolences only to be spit at by the bitter woman. He had left soon thereafter, he was pretty sure that moment had been caught on film and would be plastered everywhere for the next few days.

Reese sat the mug on his large glass topped desk, lights on the main floor snapped off and the security system was armed by the last of the in house staff. Outside, he had general patrols along with the security on the grounds. Dogs were one of the newest features that had been brought in by the convincing of Peter. Reese needed protection outside the grounds of his home. He called several people to warm their ears about the position hoping to uncover a possible bodyguard. No one had anyone free at this late hour.

He had go with the old stand by until he found someone worth offering the job to. Clint was someone who helped him from time to time, the older gentleman was basically retired. The man with a buzz cut joined him at the town car waiting for him in the front. They silently rode to the meeting place.

Reese and Clint stepped out of the car, Keith who had been leaning on a dark sedan flicked a cigarette away smoke bellowing from his nose as he walked toward them. “Mr. Williams,” he said with a chuckle. “Just one today, eh? You feeling lucky?” He waved his hands and three men with guns appeared and his good humor disappeared. “Now, that I have your attention, I think we are going to renovated this little ‘deal’.”

Reese wasn’t surprised at this sudden shift, it annoyed the heck out of him though. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Clint’s hand toying with his sleeve cuff. “Clearly, you are not happy with our agreement.” Reese said, stepping toward the man to give Clint room to work. "What is it that you want?"

“I want seventy five percent and free range in old town,” he stated. “Or I have my men blow off your head off.”

“That would be most unwise,” Reese said, gesturing to Clint. “You would upset, Mr. Cruz.”

A few quick movements from Clint and the sound of blades slicing air and the satisfying thump of a body on the floor. A knife slammed into Keith's skull, Clint’s arm wrapped around Reese’s throat and a blade slipped into his gut. “Goodbye, Mr. Williams.”

Shock overwhelmed the intense pain from the blade in his gut, Reese’s knees buckled. Clint let him fall, the old man's foot rested upon Reese's thigh with a smirk on his lips. "How does the mighty fall? You should have died that night, Reese. But you were not the one to follow someone else's plan, are you?"

[SilverRain]

Mark Winters was seated in a secluded section of the underground bar and rested his feet on the low table in front. The music around him droned on and he couldn't care less. People were on the dance floors and wooing each other as if there was no tomorrow. Mark never really understood why everyone needed a second half (even if it was only for a night). He was fine enough being by himself, living for himself. Life was simple. He didn't have to care about consequences because he accepted his own decisions.

Two hookers tried to join him, thinking that Mark would be a good source of funds for the night. But a quick glance from Mark and a cold and blunt "Not interested" had sent the women away. Mark was never really interested in women, he thought of them as a bother with all their womanly needs and nagging. Mark thought better of it and got up to leave the place. Spending the night on the streets was better it seemed.

Mark strolled down the street and looked towards the empty alleyway. It's underground name was Death's Gate. Every week, there would be cage fights down there. Men and women alike would fight each other for the entertainment of others. It was like boxing matches, except that there were no rules. If someone wanted to throw in a chainsaw, that was fine. Kicking someone in the balls was fine. Making them blind for life was fine as well. There were no limits except for what could be arranged. Some matches would be set and preplanned, but Mark was not one for such low life methods. He had pride in his fighting skills - he would win or lose each match with his own abilities, his own raw power. He was not a puppet, he was not a gambling statistic.

But the cage fight was canceled tonight as there had been news of an upcoming police sting. Mark sighed as he continued his way down the empty street. What was he going to do for the rest of the night? He could train himself he supposed. It was way better than watching those damn infomercials...blargh.

Then he noticed something up ahead. There seemed to be two expensive looking cars and a man on the floor. No, two men. And some others with guns. Pretty bad place for a car robbery. Probably some crime business he shouldn't get involved in. Hang on a sec... that guy on the ground looked familiar. Where had Mark seen him before? Mark couldn't remember. Some rich guy he guessed.

Mark was about to walk away when he stopped and glanced at the scene once more. Whilst he was no hero, he realised that this would be a good way to earn some dosh. After summoning his baseball bat to his hands. Mark pulled out his phone and walked around to get a better angle. He zoomed in on the guy with the damaged skull, then the rich guy on the ground, and then the one who did it all. Next was the three with guns. He never thought of it, but he could start a venture into blackmail.

"Heheh. Well isn't this interesting" said Mark with a smirk as he started to film. "This will be automatically going online tonight unless you pay me. Smile for the camera you retards"

[Thinker]

“Just kill him already,” one of the black haired thug said holstering his weapon. “The boss doesn’t want him alive to start signing.”

“I know what Duloo wants,” Clint hissed slapping the broad edge of his bloody blade on his palm. “I was there when he ordered Williams dead.” He kicked Reese in the ribs causing the rich man to grunt and curl up in order to protect himself. He laughed at the natural reaction. “Not so high and mighty now are you, Reese?”

Reese cried out in pain as Clint’s sharp blade sliced his thigh several times, adding to the four day old ones already there. More cuts sliced his torso and arms and Clint rose to his feet to watch Reese bleed to death. “Go, get the car.” Two of the men walked away from the alley talking about the weather.

Reese knew Clint’s strange obsession with blood and his blades. He had seen it happen to other people a few times, he never dreamed it would be him on the receiving end of the treatment. He just didn’t understand this sudden shift in loyalty. He had never treated Clint badly in any way, he always paid him well for his time. “What do you hope to accomplish, Clint?”

“A lot, without you in the way the city is ours for the taking. Duloo has plans for this place, not like you. ” Vincent Duloo wanted the underground racket, Reese frowned feeling sick from the blood pouring from his wounds. That meant guns, drugs and a whole lot corrupt cops. Vincent was heartless and would kill his own mother to gain what he desired. “He has killed all the minor bosses, you are the last to go down.”

Reese knew he was falling quick, any move to get his pistol would end up with a knife to his heart. His eyes shifted over the darkening surroundings in hopes to find anything for an means of escape.

[SilverRain]

After witnessing more of what was happening, Mark realised that the man on the floor was Reese Williams. They were probably going to get the car and stuff Reese into the back and dispose of his body. Reese... he was the rich guy who was on TV recently wasn't he? Hmm... and the other one somehow worked for that Duloo bastard. Now Mark was in no way a good, law abiding citizen, but he did know that Duloo had plunged much of the city into a worser state. And if Mark could save that man on the floor, then he would at least get some money right? Mark gripped his bat.

Whilst it would have been simple to just attack Clint right off the bat, there was the problem of the third gunman in the shadows who was still keeping watch. A shot to the head would be lethal. But that gun, Mark needed that gun. It was certainly more effective than the flimsy little knife that Clint had. Well, assuming that Clint didn't have any other hidden weapons. Let's see how Clint likes it when he's the hostage.

Mark grinned as he turned to face the third gunman whilst he pressed a few buttons on his phone. "Say cheese, motherfucker" sneered Mark as used an underarm throw to send his mobile towards the third gunman. The camera flash would take place soon afterwards, hopefully blinding or at least distracting the gunman. Whether or not his move worked, Mark would then hurl his bat at the arm that was holding the gun. This would be followed up by Mark launching himself at the third gunman and if all went well, Mark would knock out the dude and steal his gun to aim it at Clint and start firing.

Well, at least that was Mark's plan. He wondered if it would work.

[Thinker]

The thug in the shadows was bored to say the least, watching people die wasn’t on his to-do list. He rather put a bullet in the brain and be done with it. He heard a voice and he turned as a cell phone was flying toward him, he was able to have a priceless appearance of puzzlement on his face when the flash went off. He blinked madly and rubbed his eyes as he growled.

Before the thug could recover a bat flew at him, instinctively he threw up his hands to protect his body. Clint turned at the gunmen who was blocking a flying...baseball bat? Who used those anymore? The object was closely followed by a person who was attacking his bodyguard, the thug wasn’t so easily dropped, he was in defense mode against the raging male. “What the hell?” He reached under his jacket.

Reese grabbed his own weapon relieved at the sudden distraction, he didn’t know who this baseball bat welder was. He was glad for him. His own gun was drawn and pointed at Clint’s back, the soft click of the safety stilled the knife thrower. “Reese, you wouldn’t shoot a man in the back would you?”

At this time the gunman had fallen under Mark’s attempts to bash in his head. According to the plan, the gun was grabbed and shots were fired. Clint dropped to his knees, blood pouring out of his mouth before dropping to the ground dead. Reese clutched his gun and brought it close to him breathing deep breaths. Not sure what to think of this radical saver, his words died upon his lips when headlights bounced over the area as the car and two more gunmen were moving toward them. He moved painfully slow in efforts to get up to his car and get the hell out of here.

Something clicked in Reese’s brain. Why not use his car for the body dump? It was right here and the keys were in the ignition. Clint had been with his car for a while before he met him, the car more than likely was rigged with a bomb. He stumbled away from the car hitting the wall that kept him upright. Many curses falling from his lips. He was injured, on the west side, which he didn’t know all that well and had a loose cannon that just saved his butt. If they survived this next wave from the gunmen. That was a big if.

He hated the word if, he glanced over his shoulder. He could only see headlights, he wouldn’t be able to shoot anything with the few bullets he had in the clip. He had to do something in effort to save his own skin. Especially if the other’s courage was used up and he bolted. He decided to wait until they got out of the car and into range before using his gun. He couldn’t run, he just prayed they didn’t have automatic weapons in the vehicle.

[SilverRain]

Mark was busy pilfering the body of the gunman and then also that of the Clint guy when he noticed Reese up against a wall. Mark usually wasn’t one to do heroic things, but this time it was different because the guy was rich. That and Mark needed a new part to upgrade his motorbike. "Hey, if I save you I get money right?" asked Mark, not really expecting an answer. After all, there were plenty of ways to get money. By hook or by crook.

The roar of an engine from down the road caught Marks' attention. The way the car was driven didn't make it look like they were civilians. Mark could only guess that it was those two retards that left earlier. Then a very mischievous grin graced his lips. He liked trying new things. He liked creating chaos when it fancied him. And what better way than that of the dead Clint. Well at least he looked dead.

Getting up to his feet, Mark grabbed the foot of the dead Clint and dragged the body back a few feet. Then with a strong lift and a hefty spin around, Mark lets go of the dead Clint, letting it fly across the road and land in the lane where the car was approaching. Mark's intention was to mainly scare the hell out of them and put them into confusion. Running over the boss? Not exactly a nice thing to do. But at least they didn't realise he was dead. And perhaps it could also send their car veering into a wall or something. High impact crashes like that are usually quite taxing on the head and body.

Now the only thing left to consider was how feasible it would be for Mark to run up to the side and shoot the windows. Were they bulletproof? Mark didn't know. Jumping onto the roof of the car and firing shots into it would be risky as the gunmen could open the doors and shoot him from both sides. Mark looked at Reese for a moment. It didn't seem like the man was in any fighting shape. Hmm... what to do?

Mark quickly went up to Reese to ask (it sometimes made things easier). "Hey, do you wanna fight these guys or get outta here?"

Mark would lift Reese onto his back. Carrying a full grown man was no mean feat, but Mark's intention was not to run a marathon. Instead, he walked and staggered a bit to the other end of the alleyway, out of view of those two gunmen. He looked around for a bit and found the manhole cover. Setting Reese down, he opened the cover. And then he took off one of Reese's shoes (probably without permission) and flung it as far as he could so that it would land below the streetlight up ahead. Next, he would take Reese and lower him into the manhole followed by himself and close the metal cover over them.

"Okays then. You take the right, I take the left. And we shoot them till they stop moving". Yep, that was Mark's plan.

[Thinker]

The car veered and slammed into a pile of used tires, fully covering the passenger side with debris. Neither had bothered to wear a seatbelt, so they were dazed with more or less head trauma. Depending on the point of view.

Reese reached to the wild card and shook his head. “We have to leave,” he stated, as much as he would love to drop those thugs there was the whole car of the bomb. He had no clue if it had been triggered or what. Clint was reaching in his jacket for some reason, the man didn’t carry guns and his knife was already in his hand. “I will give you a reward if I am alive to pay you.”

Those words prompted the wild card heft Reese, he let out a protest at the strange and slightly painful method of transportation. They were around the corner before the guys in the car could wiggle out, he did see however, Clint’s body pinned under a tire.

Reese gasped at the sudden shift of being yet again as he was put down, the wild card seemed to be plotting. His shoe was snagged with a grumble of protest and thrown away from them. He was wiggled into the manhole and the stench that was associated with the underground system. The stale air was trapped once again when the cover was shoved back into place.

Above them yelling from the dinged up thugs vibrated over the night air, they were just rounding the corner when the town car exploded. The force swept over the area causing alarms to go off in all directions and killing the thugs with flying debris and the impact of the force. “We have about five minutes,” Reese said. “This is not the place I want to be for hours as they shift through the crime scene.” Plus he would be dead without his wounds being shut or die later from all the germs he was currently introducing into the open injuries in this place. "I don't know where we are exactly." Reese had been dealing with his phone which was dying on him yet again on the way to this meeting.

[SilverRain]

"Heh, I suppose you're right" said Mark. He thought about telling Reese his name, but decided against it - at least for now. For all he knew, he could be sold out by this fella if it came to it. He wouldn't give his name till later. That and he would still be able to collect the money or something. Mark could feel the blood from Reese soaking his hand. Taking Reese to the hospital would guarantee that his life would be saved, but then there would be news crews and whatnot. Mark didn't exactly want to appear on papers everywhere. Looks like it would have to be the shady place he had always visited.

"To the Grey Hospital then" said Mark as he pushed open the manhole cover. The grey hospital was an underground place that Mark frequented due to his blood sport. He knew the doctor there well - the doctor was once one of the professionals, but after he failed to heal a politician and then fixed up a crime lord many years back, rumors started to spread and he became to plunge into the messy world of illegal operations.

With some difficulty, Mark pulled Reese out of the manhole and stumbled back, falling over in the process. Oh well, at least Reese was out now. Mark went to reclaim Reese's shoe before he came back. After giving the shoe to Reese, he lifted the guy and started to carry him down the hidden alleyways. They soon came to a dimly lit backstreet with a green door and a single light bulb that flickered above it. This was the right one.

"Yo Doc! It's Mark! Open up!"

There was the sound of things clattering around and some doors being closed before the doctor looked through the peephole. There were sounds of heavy furniture being pushed away and finally the door was unlocked and then opened. The Doctor looked up and down at the two arrivals. Mark was disheveled but otherwise not bleeding (for once) and behind him was that...Reese Williams? The Doctor quickly ushered them in and blocked the door again. In his field of business attacks could come from anywhere, anytime.

Mark placed Reese onto the table and then sat back, letting the Doctor do this thing. Few words were spoken as that was the protocol here. After all, no one wanted any evidence against them and trust could only go so far before it became meaningless. Mark flipped open his phone and snickered to himself as he saw the prized photo of the surprised gunman. He still had the video he could post online, but Reese didn't seem to be in a talking mood right now. Mark leaned back but didn't sleep nor dose off. Someone like him could never truly sleep due to all the dangers around him. So instead Mark just took to looking at the various operating equipment that were probably once used on him. They looked clean. Mark wondered how on earth the doctor could order so many clean things.

The Doctor took off the clothes that Reese had and examined the wounds. "Any allergies and conditions I should know of? Are you willing to pay for local anesthetic? There's also the option of full body anesthetic, but not many take it" the Doctor said to Reese. Most of the Doctor's patients were those who lived hard lives, so many opted to bear the pain and not use anesthetic at all. There were some bloodied towels on a side table, mostly from being used to bite down on as the Doctor operated.

By now Mark had taken to playing with his phone again. It was better than watching the Doctor operate on Reese. Somehow that unnerved him.

[Thinker]

Reese informed the shady doctor of his allergies and sensitivity to certain items, the pair found a local anesthetic that was used to numb the pain while the sutures were placed. Wounds were cleaned and sterilized before the doctor set to work. Having his skin sewn was oddly comforting, the feel of the pull and sting of the needle. Even stupid things had their place in his life, it only meant he was more than likely going to live and able to defend his territory. The six slashes on his thighs were cared for the four old ones had to have a few stitches replace from tearing. The bandages were tapped on and the ones on his biceps were given a quick cleaning and fresh dressings.

The doctor gave Reese a much needed protein shake and the very large bill was settled. It was outrageous and very upsetting. Reese dressed in his ruined suit and paid the bill with all the money he had on him, it was enough to sedate the physician. Tossing the empty can in the wastebasket, Reese peered at the man who had been the sole instrument in his escape.

"I suppose you will be needing payment as well," he said tiredly. "Your doctor cleaned me out of cash, so I need an ATM or bank and an amount that you are willing to settle for." Reese liked the man's spunk, it was very helpful in such a bad situation. He wasn't about to push his luck, these street types, at least the ones he heard about, would bleed a man dry if kept around to long. He hoped this guy wasn't like that. At the moment, he wasn't sure what to believe anymore.

[SilverRain]

Mark stood up and grinned "Eh, I'll get it from the Doctor's dead body tonight heheheh" said Mark with a tease. The Doctor tensed up and whipped around putting both arms in the air "Oh god, hell no!". Mark laughed "Hey, I'm just kidding. You saved me a few times. As long as you paid your racket you should be okay". The Doctor sighed a whoosh of relief. "Man, stop scaring me like that".

The red head turned back to face Reese. "There's an ATM nearby. You okay to walk or do you want another piggyback?" asked Mark with a triumphant grin. Mark looked at Reese, wondering what had just happened before. Where did all his other lackeys go? And how was he going to get back? By train? Mark decided not to ask. After all, it would make him look nosy. But at least Reese followed the protocol.

Just before this, Mark was busy rummaging through the wallets of Clint and the gunman. Some odd cash here and there as well as some cards. Clint's wallet seemed to be worth a little. Mark held up the wallets for Reese to see "Hey, you need any of this?"