King Lewis In Chicago Prison - the useless son of a Baker

Chapter 7

~Five star hotel, Worcester~

Taylor and his secretary arrived at the luxurious hotel two hours after leaving Chicago. The concierge walked up to them with a welcoming smile on her face.

“Welcome to five star hotel, Mr. Taylor,” she took hold of his luggage. “Your suite has been arranged to your taste.”

The concierge carefully rolled the luggage on the marble floor while walking two meters beside him.

Taylor nodded and asked, “And the car I requested for?”

“Resting in the garage,” the concierge replied again.

“Good,” Taylor pulled out of his suit jacket before handing it to his secretary. “It's going to be a long stay in Worcester, right Mrs Skylar?” he asked, unbuttoning the sleeve of his shirt as he threw a glance at the concierge named Skylar.

Mrs. Skylar simply nodded and widened the unwavering smile that plastered on her face like a mask.

*******

*******

~Room 666, five star hotel~

They stopped in front of the door with the number ‘suite 666’ on the number plate. The concierge swiped a golden card and the door opened revealing what lies behind it.

One living room and two bedrooms are adjacent to each other. A kitchen with sleek appliances and a beige island.

“Wow,” it slipped out of Mercy's mouth as she gaped at the timeless design of the suite.

The welcoming burst of coordinating colors gave the suite a monochromatic vibe.

“The walls are soundproof and every single thing in this suite down to the floors are top of the line, we see that there wasn't any mix-up or flaws.”

“So, here is your golden card. Lunch will be served immediately,” Mrs. Skylar gave the card to him.

“Thank you, Mrs. Skylar. This is a wonderful suite,” Taylor slipped the card in his pocket.

“I am glad that you like it,” Mrs. Skylar nodded for the last time before exiting the suite.

The door automatically closed after her.

“This is beautiful, sir.”

“The room beside the kitchen is yours. Take a bath, we are leaving in an hour.”

“Yes, sir,” Mercy bowed and started moving towards her room until she heard her name and turned back.

“And Mercy, this is not a vacation or summer holiday. If you always leave the office late, prepare to stay up all night this time. There's so much work to do,” Taylor ventured before veering to his room.

“Got that, boss!”

*****

*****

Taylor was on the road in his sleek G63, classical music blasting off the MP. He was on the mission that brought him to Worcester and now he was driving alone in this creepy forest road, no passers-by or other vehicles in sight.

He pulled out his phone and dialed his assistant’s number.

“Hyde, the fuck is this road? Are you sure this is the right path?” he asked while keeping his eyes on the map displayed on his touchscreen.

“Yes, boss. I'm sure that's the path that leads to the church.”

“And what about other roads?”

“Uhmm, unfortunately that's the only road to the church,” Hyde answered through the phone.

Taylor missed the slowdown bump ahead and when he bumped into it, his forehead hit on the staring making him to hiss

“When the fuck are you bringing your ass to Worcester?”

“Booked the next flight already, I will be there tonight.”

The call ended and when he glanced at the map, he saw that he was approaching a curve. A small sign board was placed at the sharp end of the road with a pointed arrow facing the curved road.

Below it reads ‘bridge road efc'.

A mischievous smile tugged on his lips as business was about to get started and he made his way through the long bridge.

*****

Taylor stopped after crossing the long bridge, he parked his car at the side where if mistakenly anyone uses that road, they won't be able to see the car.

Then he walked forward to an abandoned building at the front. The place was pretty much deserted like a ghost town. The structures were not rickety but had creepers and moss on the walls.

At the top, a large brass plaque that has started to crumble sat there. It reads ‘English Reformed Church'

Taylor pushed the rusty ramshackle gate and it made a creaking sound only making him hiss.

Why would someone pick such a location for business?

Immediately the smell of decaying wet wood hit him as he squeezed his nose, some broken plastic chairs were lying on the floor. It did not like the normal tall church buildings but you could call this an abandoned industrial building.

He walked in deeper into the building and he could see a little Philip hue light spilling from a corner. It was dark on that side so he thought that light indicates that a living being was there.

When he drew closer, he started hearing the clicks of the keyboard like someone was typing faster. Taylor heaved a relief sigh, knowing that was the person he came for.

He squared his shoulder before rounding the corner and a hand shot out and clasped his mouth silencing him as he crashed to the nearby wall. The person pressed his back on him, and the sound of a clicking gun was heard as he brought it forward and pointed the barrel at his head.

“Who the fuck are you?” the person asked in a breathy tone.

Taylor's face was squeezed on the wall as he bucked for freedom.

“I- I am, fuck.”

He couldn't say out a full sentence as his face was mashed to the wall like a fucking sandwich. His heartbeat had escalated at the sight of the gun.

The person released him a bit so Taylor could turn his head back.

Taylor gasped when he met someone wearing Guy Fawkes mask. He glided down and saw that the guy was putting on a black hoodie and a black trouser.

Like a cyber...nerd.

He scoffed and weaved through his hair with his hand. Then he pushed the guy backwards as he brushed down his suit.

“You got me there, you pulled out like a fucking mobster,” then he released another breathy laugh taking another glance at the guy's schoolboy hair.

His face was hidden behind the mask but Taylor recognises a fucking tube with or without a face.

The guy got agitated and raised the gun again.

“If you don't tell me who you are this minute, I will pull the fucking trigger!” he threatned.

His voice was not deep, not inducing fear or even something to write home about for someone posing as a mobster.

“Come on Asian nerd, I am here for business. Now put the gun down,” Taylor said, his face now cold and void.

The guy held the gun tighter, not shifting his stance. That got Taylor infuriated as he didn't have time to spare on dramas.

“Put the fucking gun down!” he yelled.

And the gun dropped as fear was written all over the guy's body.

Taylor didn't spare him any other glance as he walked forward and saw a room with lights pouring out of it. He entered and the guy followed closely.

“I am Taylor Baker.”

“Oh, you! I thought it was one of the tourist coming to take pictures of the building. Anyway, I'm Nony hacker.”

“Nony hacker?” Taylor scoffed.

“Do you mind removing your mask, Nony hacker?”

Nony hacker took his seat in front of his desktop and faced Taylor.

“For this business my mask will never go off, as long as you can hear me speak and you must refer to me as Nony hacker,” he gave his conditions.

Taylor's lip curled up in a smug smile, “Else what?”

“I know why Lewis is in jail, the necklace.”