July 1 2078

  James, Tycho, and I walked in through the revolving door of the hotel and stepped into the lobby. We stepped across the warm carpet, and I turned to smile and wave at the woman behind the front desk. Tycho was between James and I, carrying the duffle bag with the disassembled rifle. I looked around, making sure nobody was keeping their eyes out for us.

  We passed through a door, into a hallway leading to ground floor rooms. On either side of the hall were two elevators. We took the right set of elevators, and hit the button to call the elevator down. The elevator motors whirr'd as the cab descended, and the doors opened with a satisfying ding.

  The three of us stepped in, and from behind, an older gentleman, bald and in a suit, piggybacked his way behind us. Our new passenger had a couple of strange things about him. He had two lapel pins, one with a cartoon cob of corn breaking through the earth, splitting it in twain. On the pin intself was the words “corn cob hero.” There was a second that had a cob of corn with insect legs and claws that read, “Rock Cobster”, which deeply upset me. And I can't be sure, but I am fairly certain I saw a bottle of corn syrup in an appendix holster.

  “Ope, don't mind me, fellas. I'm just sneakin on in behind you two”, The man said as the door shut.

  “Oh, that's fine, what floor are you going to?”, I asked the man, moving in front of the button panel.

  “Oh I'm headed to the fifth floor”, Nicholas answered, “Yeeeaap, came up here on some corn business with Omni-Corp. Got me 2 million acres of corn to get moving, and way I figure, they'll have the best price.”

  The man gave out a little chuckle. He must have been very satisfied with himself. Either way, I was stuck on why he chose the verbiage, “corn business.” I pressed the button for the fifth floor, and blocking the sight of our guest, I pressed the button for the ninth. We began to ascend.

  Meanwhile, in the corner of my eye, I could see James. He was practically shaking the elevator with how he kept shifting his weight from foot to foot. I opened up the chat program and sent him a message.

  Nicholas seemed unaware of our ongoing argument, continuing to speak, “Yeah, way I see it, I get a good enough deal from ol' Omni-Corp, I can purchase up that chicken company and make some Blenerhayset branded dinosaur nuggs.”

  Before James could freak out any longer, we had arrived at the fifth floor. Nicholas left the cab, and as he left, he wished us to have fine day while fiddling with his handlebar moustache. Once more, a ding rang out after the door shut.

  I turned to James and Tycho, and began to instruct them, “Okay, you two. We need our stories straight, and James, you need to chill the fuck out. You nearly blew our cover because some asshole with a corn addiction entered the elevator. Grow a fucking spine.”

  James huffed after being called out for losing his cool.

  “Tycho, I'm the one who you got the gun from. If Carmine asks, I came because I wanted to see who was buying my shit. We just gotta get him talking, and once he's rolling we can just figure out how to keep him talking. Again, we're stalling for Max and Valencia.”

  I turned to James, and got a lot less composed, “And you, you stupid son of a bitch. You are just a hried gun. You will sit there, silently, and pretend to be tough. Get some neves in the next few seconds, and relax. If everything goes right, you will do nothing, so fucking relax.”

  I turned back to the door of the elevator, and pulled my suit jacket down, getting the creases out. James remained a bit huffy in the corner, but I paid him no mind. The man needed to smoke a cigarette and chill the fuck out.

  The elevator hit the 9th floor, and the doors opened. I checked my suit once over for a last time before

  I exited, behind the other two. We were in the silence of a the hall, surrounded b y white walls, strange, off gray carpets, and cheap, mass market painting prints.

  We started to walk the halls, looking for room 916. The doors stared me down as we passed them, judging me. We arrived to the Northern corridor, and headed to our destination. As we walked, an exit sign grew closer, bathing the hall in a hellish red sheen.

  And then we arrived at the hotel door. Room 916.

  I steeled myself in the red hall, before motioning to the door, “Tycho, if you would do the honors.”

  Tycho stepped up to the door, and raised his hand to knock upon the door. As his fist was about to hit the door, instead, the door opened, revealing an incredibly tall, gaunt man.

  He was in a white suit and red button up shirt. The suit's cut made James look normal, what, with collars large enough to be knives affixed to his neck. If this was Carmine he'd have to be snorting vitiman d tablets with how viciously pale he was. His swept back hair went from a bright scarlet at the roots, to fading into a gray at the tips. This was either the worlds greatest dye job, or this man just had naturally scarlet hair. And yet, the most interesting part of this meeting was was left unknown.

  “Tycho! Welcome”, the man said in a woody, baritone voice, “You brought friends! Come in, come in! Take your shoes off if you please!”

  The man, assumedly Carmine, waved his arms and stepped away from the doorway, inviting us all inside.The man was far, far too cheery for this kind of thing.

  The three of us followed him inside of the hotel room, as he stepped aside. Tycho went in first, then myself, and James in the rear.

  The room wass large, with a sizable sitting area before a half wall cut the room into two to suggest there was a bedroom. There was a table splitting this side of the room into two halves, with a standard hotel couch on on the left, and an unfurtunate chair on the right. On either side of the chair were two more gaunt men, both in similarly cut suits.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  At this point, James was beginning to look downright professional.

  We filed into the room, and took our seats at the couch. From the floor plan, I could safely say, our eyes were in danger when those charges would go off. They'd taken all the furniture, put it on our side of the room, and now we had an unimpeeded view of the wall about to blow into room.

  I ignored the anxiety, and instead let the others know we were in.

  “So, Tycho”, Carmine started, “Did you and your friends bring the item?”

  He was very blunt. The openess of this assassin was mind boggling.

  Tycho lifted the duffle, and set it down on the table, before speaking, “Uhh... Yeah, yeah, it's all here. I sourced some real fine European hardware. British!”

  Carmine looked up, smiling to his associates, and One flashed a quick thumbs up in return. I noticed something rather distinct about it. His finger nails were sharp, sharp claws. I guess we'll find out who's faster later, but for now we had to play it real smoothe.

  Tycho unzipped the duffel bag, revealing the disassembled military rifle. Hard to believe something that nice was as old as it was. He first pulled out the barrel assembly, followed by the stock and bolt assembly. The way the rifle was set up, the barrel was free floating to eliminate stress. The stock itself had been hydro dipped in a snow camoflage pattern; one meant for arctic warfare. Tycho placed them all out on the table, letting Carmine look over everything.

  Carmine picked up the stock to inspect it. He ran his fingers up and down the stock, checking for any warping or defects. He paid extra attention to the screw holes in the polymer. My observations were interrupted by the opening of a chat window.

  This fucking kid, I swear to God.

  Carmine sat the final piece of the rifle back onto the table, drumming his fingertips together and very satisfied with himself.

  “This is wonderful! Tycho, you've outdone yourself. This is a lovely rifle, and the turn around is impeccable. Getting a suppressor and a high quality rifle with the serials ground off in this time frame is nothing short of a miracle. You have a gift, my friend”, Carmine said looking over the lot.

  “I-it wasn't easy, I assure you”, Tycho replied.

  Carmine beckoned for the man on his right to come over, “Ernie, hand Tycho the money.”

  The man picked up a bag at his foot, and hefted it onto the table. There was a dull thunk when Ernie set it down.

  “Five hundred bands, just as promised”, Carmine said, unzipping the bag and revealing the hidden dead presidents.

  Tycho, greedily pulled the duffel bag over and began counting the bills. While he was counting his little head off, I noticed Carmine looking me up and down.

  “So who are you two?”, Carmine asked, “bodyguards?”

  “I'm the one who had the rifle”, I replied, terse and to the point.

  “Oh, very good.... What should I call you?”, he trilled.

  “Aleks.. Alexander”, I said, staring at him.

  “Oh, come now, Alexander. No need to be so curt”, Carmine said with a playful laugh.

  “Well, what do you want from me?”, I asked.

  “Just a bit of pleasant conversation until Tycho is satisfied with the count”, Carmine replied.

  During the conversation, more messages from James began to pour in.

  I somehow managed to barely juggle these two ongoing conversations. I was starting to fray though, and I needed the others to fucking hurry before James and I both blew a gasket.

  “Honestly, sir, I mostly came just to see what a man who needs a rifle like this in such a short notice looks like”, I said, continuing the conversation in an attempt to get Carmine speaking.

  “Well, in that case, am I what you were expecting?”, He asked, chuckling after.

  Honestly, no. This man rather looked like he was in hospice care, barely holding in. I just couldn't figure out what his deal was. Something was definitely up.

  “No, not particularly”, I answered.

  “Hmm, I wonder what you were expecting”, he said, almost playfully.

  The man was toying with us.

  “Well, I'd know it when I saw it, but you three don't look like you need an untraceable rifle”, I said, perhaps tipping my hand a little too far.

  “Looks are deceiving Alexander. We need it to test a product.”

  “I'll bite”, I said, raising an eyebrow, “What is it you're testing?”

  “We're three engineers working on a new sighting system for a firearm, and now we're in the testing phase. We just need something discrete and untraceable”, Carmine said with a smile.

  “Seems like a lot of work and a lot of bands for a rifle you could buy at a tenth of the price in any firearms shop”, I said, pressing him a bit further.

  “Look, look, we just have a limited time is all. You get it. Anyway, you're getting paid!”

  Carmine waffled on for a bit longer, when the message had arrived.

  Five.

  A series of events began. I stood up, shoving Tycho over, which caused him to yelp in surprise. The three men across each had varying degrees of fear and confusion begin to grow on their faces. James was just beginning to register what was about to happen. He began to move.

  Four.

  James had left the couch, now in the air. I raised my right arm while pulling my sleeve back, and with the use of my gun camera, began to aim. Tycho was now on the floor. The three men across from us each began to move in separate directions... except for Carmine. He froze.

  Three.

  The television that had been moved to the right of the couch, had began to fall, as James hit the entertainment center. I brought the barrel of my embedded pistol to bare upon the man to Carmine's right. He was beginning to raise his hands to swipe at me.

  Two.

  PSSsst. A dart flew, hitting the man in his neck. I began swinging my arm around to my left. The man hit by the dart began to feel the effects of fast acting sedatives.

  One.

  The man began to fall. I shot a second dart, hitting the man to Carmine's left in the chest. The two men I'd shot looked confused. Carmine looked terrified. The others had hidden on the ground. I shut my eyes.

  A torrent of chunks of sheet rock and metal flying into the room. The noise should have been deafening. One of Carmine's men screamed, as he got hit by something. I felt bits and piece of the wall hit me all over.

  I opened my eyes, and saw the room filled with dust. Emerging from the fog of war were Max and Valencia. Carmine looked up at the two behind him, and when his gaze met Valencia, she went pale as a ghost. Max trained his pistol onto Carmine as he came into view.

  I stepped over the table, and pulled out a pair of handcuffs, before speaking, “Carmine, let me tell you what is about to happen next.”