One Night To Omni-Power

It was a dark evening.

A man rode a secondhand bike speeding up the highway, overtaking cars recklessly.

He almost collided with a truck, but with a sharp left swerve, he saved himself.

The rider turned, winked and smiled at the truck driver.

The driver froze in shock, too stunned to continue driving.

Only a very skilled rider could have pulled that off.

Other drivers honked behind the truck to drive.

He couldn’t believe, he had just survived a fatal accident and worst the death of his own life and the rider’s.

The motorcycle roared as the rider approached his destination.

He had a mission, kill the target and exit.

Screech!

The bike pulled over in a forceful stop in front of a gate, he had to pass through security first.

“Delivery” he said, showing a fake ID

“Mark Ross” the security guard said, looking at the rider, then the ID.

The security took another suspicious look

The rider forced a polite smile, it wasn’t new to him.

All he had to do was keep calm.

Inside, he prayed the security guard wouldn’t run a system check on his ID.

If the guard did, he would be searched and his cover blown.

“Mark Ross, how long have you been a deliveryman?”

“Three years. Hustling day and night. I lost my mother to cancer last week-God bless her soul.”

If there’s one thing he knows, it's that diverting a conversation with a sad story makes people forget the initial conversation.

“Now you are working your butt off more because she died poor and left you no inheritance” the guard completed

“Yes. I have to pay up the money borrowed for her medical care.”

“Your motorcycle is trash, took you long to get here, didn’t it? No speed, no money” the security pat him on his shoulder

“You are right, if only I earn enough, I would have changed it” the rider smiled worriedly

Another thing he knows too damn well is to allow people to think they are smarter

“Poor thing, working like an elephant, eating like a rat” the security mocked, handing him back the ID

Stage one, pass the security. It worked

The security guard signaled for the gate to be opened “Clear. Don’t steal the rich people's wrist watch or stuff else, I would handle you myself” he gave the rider a cold stare

“I am only here to do my job” the rider replied innocently

The motorcycle roared to life. “Here for my job” he muttered under his breath, riding past the gate.

The Glock 12 gun pressed to his stomach, was the real delivery, not the lobster pizza in the box.

The rider parked the motorcycle by the curb.

He got down from the motorcycle, it was show time.

“In position” he muttered, taking out the lobster pizza. “Delivery in progress.”

“Roger that” a voice answered from the comms in his left ear

Inside the hotel, everything screamed wealth

“A delivery for room 120” he said, approaching the desk

The lady wrinkled her nose at him. “We don’t allow deliveries upstairs, you have to call the guest to pick it up here”

“Oh” he chuckled, acting surprised

Perfect. Just like the plan. Fake a call, excuse himself, slip upstairs, kill the target, exit effect immediately.

“Aahh, yes ma’am” he said loudly to his phone, faking a call “Just like you wanted, hot and steamy.”

He pocketed his phone. “I uhh-can I use the restroom?”

“A peasant like you can vandalize our high facilities.”

“Would you rather I help myself outside? It would be fertilizer for the fancy flowers” he raised his eyebrows

The receptionist was disgusted by him. “First turn by your right” She waved him toward the hallway, returning to her desktop .

“Thanks”

Instead of walking right, he walked left.

He took out a small device from his pocket

It flickered on, in his hand. Whenever he passed a CCTV, the timestamp froze.

“You have three minutes tops” the voice in his comms warned

“Copy that” he muttered. He already had intel on where his target was, getting there wasn’t an issue.

The elevator bell dinged, stepping out. His eyes swept the empty corridor as he moved down the hall

Room 376

He knelt by the lock. Took out a slender tool from his pocket.

Beep

Within seconds the door eased open

He slipped inside silently, the suite smelled faintly of cigar smoke.

His target sat by the desk, in his suit, speaking in a low voice on the phone.

He hadn’t noticed the door silently open

The rider raised his silenced pistol, arm steady, cold eyes.

“Room service” he whispered

The man turned, confusion flashing across his face,

“I didn’t ask for-“ then panic, seeing the gun pointed at him

He froze seeing the familiar face of the person that he thought was dead

Was that not Corey’s son who was burned alive?

“L-Leon? Impossible…you were-“

“Christo” the rider cut him, his jaw tightened looking at his late father’s long time friend and business partner.

Christo had raised a glass while the estate burned, celebrating the death of his friend’s bloodline.

Little did Christo know that Corey son was rescued

out of the fire that night.

“Five years I have waited to finally put a bullet to your skull” the rider said fiercely

“Wait, I…I can explain your…your father” Christo raised his hands up in surrender but there was no time for words.

Pfft.

The silencer shot once.

The man slumped forward onto the desk, spewing whiskey into the carpet.

“That’s for my father” the ridder jaw clenched so hard it ached

Christo blood trickled from his head

The rider stood still

His finger tightened on the trigger, merciless.

He shot at Christo again, his lifeless body jerked

“That’s for my mother” his voice cold

He was out for revenge, this was just one down, many more to go

The rider closed the door and headed back to the reception

To anyone who might stumble upon him, he was still just an ordinary guy.

By the time he emerged, the receptionist glanced at him with mild curiosity.

“No one came down?” she asked

“Oh, guess she changed her mind” he said with a shrug

“Pizza guy!” a feminine voice called out

He froze. That wasn’t in the plan

“Yes, ma’am” he pretended

“Come with me”

The rider was confused.

The next stage was to exit the hotel premises. He didn’t even know the woman

“What?”

The receptionist frowned, suspicion sparked in her eyes. “She isn’t your customer?” She asked

“Oh, she is” he forced a smile

“What are you doing? You need to leave now” the voice panicked through the comms

The rider calmly tipped his cap to the receptionist, following the lady to the elevator

When they were out of earshot he stopped

“Ma’am, there must be a mix-up somewhere, you didn't order-”

Her head tilted, eyes glassy, drowsy.

“I didn’t order a pizza, but I need your help” she murmured

Then suddenly, she grabbed his face

Kissing him hard

The rider stiffened, the lady's hand pressing near the hidden Glock.

“Security alert! Room 376. Man down!” a voice blared from the receptionist’s radio loud enough for the rider to hear

The receptionist froze as she typed on the desktop

The woman clung tighter, lips pressing hungrily to his.

“Help…me” she whispered, trembling

“What is the problem?”

“They are after me. Please” she begged

The comms in his ear screamed “Abort! Stick to your mission!”

The rider pulse hammered.

Wrong place. Wrong time. Wrong woman, but he had to protect her from whatever.

“Leave the lady. Security is already on the move. Use plan b exit plan, the roof. Helicopter is ready”

The rider ignored the voice from the earpiece

His expression didn’t change. His eyes stayed cold, sharp as a blade.

He couldn’t just leave her? He was in danger, she too was in a danger that he didn’t fully understand

“These security are armed to the teeth, leave there now. They may suspect you”

The rider ignored, his eyes were fixed on the lady

The security was nothing he couldn’t pass through, he was well-trained for combat.

“Who is after you?” he hissed in her ear

“Alfredo and his men-plea..se I just need one night with you” she gasped, voice ragged, as if the words burned her throat.

The rider’s gaze darkened, his voice low and dangerous. “One night?” She had better be careful what she wished for.