The Generals Missile

Chapter 08 - The Race against Time

We will find Voss - Boss!

"And we will kill him!" Drake said.

"He is not yours to kill! He's mine!" I replied.

"Understood." I asked.

"Understood Sir..." The voice on the line said, urgency lacing each word he said.

"Now what's your report?" I asked.

"Werner talked... He was hired through a cutout in Dubai and his payment was 200,000 dollars, paid half up front and half on confirmation."

"But sir... He said there is a second team."

"Not Blackridge."

"Local... Four men, They are not targeting Lily."

I felt the blood drain from my face as I asked.

"Then who?"

"You, sir!"

"They are targeting you."

"And they are already inside the hospital." He added.

I hung up, my heart racing, and turned to Victoria.

"Take Lily to the second floor, Room B7, Lock the door and do not open it for anyone except me or a man named Drake... He’s tall, with a scar on his left jaw, military bearing... Do you understand?" I asked.

"Ethan, you are scaring me," she replied, her voice a tremor of fear.

"Good! Being scared will keep you alive."

"Go now!" I said to her.

She nodded sharply and rushed away, leaving me alone in the corridor.

I cracked my neck, loosened my shoulders, and focused my gaze down the long hallway towards the stairwell as I prepared myself four men, inside the hospital, coming for me... A smile crept onto my face.

They had no idea what they were walking into.

The first one came through the stairwell door on the fourth floor, dressed in blue scrubs, the kind that orderlies wear like a medical personnel.

But orderlies don’t carry Glock 19s tucked into their waistbands, nor do they walk with the deliberate, heel-to-toe gait of a man trained in close-quarters combat.

I was standing at the end of the corridor, behind a laundry cart, watching, Yes Asura was Watching!

He scanned left, then right, his hand drifting to his hip, revealing a Bluetooth earpiece signaling someone was feeding him directions.

I pulled out my phone and texted Drake:

"Fourth floor... East stairwell... First one in blue scrubs is armed... Glock 19 - Earpiece."

Drake replied in four seconds.

"We have the building's camera feed."

"There are four total - Two on fourth floor, one on third approaching from the west elevator, one in the parking garage - Sending Sergeant vemon and two operators to your position. ETA three minutes."

Three minutes?

I didn’t have three minutes.

The man in scrubs was already moving down the corridor toward Lily's old room, Room 412.

He didn’t know she had been moved. Good!

I stepped out from behind the laundry cart, walking toward him at a normal pace, hands in my pockets, looking every bit like what everyone in this hospital thought I was... a broke, harmless, useless nobody.

He glanced at me, then dismissed me.

That was his first mistake.

When I was six feet away, I spoke, my voice casual,

"Excuse me, do you know where the cafeteria is?"

He stopped, annoyance flaring in his eyes.

"Down the hall, take a left."

"Thanks! Hey, one more thing," I said, closing the distance in one swift movement.

My left hand clamped over his mouth, while my right hand stripped the Glock from his waistband so quickly he didn’t register it was gone until he felt the barrel press against his ribcage with extreme velocity!

"Make a sound and I will put a round through your liver... Nod if you understand." I said to him.

His eyes went wide, and he nodded.

"Good... How many of you are there?" I asked, lowering my grip just enough for him to whisper.

"Four... Please, man, I was just hired for a job."

"I do not even know who the target is."

"You are lying."

"You have a photograph in your left breast pocket and I can see the edge of it... Pull it out.. Slowly."

His hand shook as he reached into the scrubs pocket, pulling out a folded printout...a photograph of me, grainy yet unmistakably me, taken from a distance.

I smiled in return as it acknowledged I was right!

"Who gave you this?" I pressed, keeping the gun steady against him.

"A guy named Gemi."

"He runs security for... for the Harrington family."

My jaw tightened, my molars grinding together.

Gemi! Elder Harrington's personal security chief, the man who stood behind Elder Harrington’s chair at every family dinner while I was forced to kneel and serve wine to them, the same man who had once kicked me in the ribs outside the Harrington compound gate because I had parked in the wrong spot... So this attack wasn't a Voss attack!

My eyes widened in shock! What!

The Harrington family had hired local assassins to kill me... not Voss, but the Harringtons.

"Where is Gemi now?" I asked, my voice low and deadly.

"He is in the parking garage. Level B2. Gray Mercedes. He is coordinating from there."

"What are your orders?"

"Find you... Hold you! Gemi said we just had to hold you until his people arrived." He informed me.

"His people?" I asked.

"I do not know... He said someone important was coming... Someone military." He replied

Hehehe! - Voss!

Gemi was coordinating with Voss.

The Harrington family's security chief was actively working with the man who wanted me dead.

This was not just Elder Harrington's doing; it was a joint operation of wickedness and enemies.

"Walk with me," I commanded, keeping the gun pressed to his back.

"You are going to lead me to your partner on this floor and when we find him, you are going to tell him the target has been spotted on the second floor, then you are going to redirect him and If you try to warn him, if you blink wrong, if your voice changes pitch by a single note... I will end you! Are we clear?" I ordered.

"Clear! Crystal clear!"

"Please do not kill me... I have kids."

"Then you should have picked a better profession."

We found his partner near the elevator bank, a heavier man with a bulge under his jacket that screamed concealed weapon.

My hostage played his part perfectly, his voice trembling just enough to be convincing.

"Target moved to second floor!"

"West wing!

"Gemi wants us to reposition."

The heavy man grunted and headed for the stairs.

As soon as he rounded the corner, I put my hostage in a sleeper hold, ten seconds, and he went limp.

I laid him behind the laundry cart and zip-tied his hands with the medical restraints I had taken from the supply closet.

Two down, two to go.

My phone buzzed, Drake’s voice coming through.

"Kelvin is in position... Third floor target apprehended."

"That leaves the one more in the parking garage."

"Gemi!"

"He is mine," I replied, my tone leaving no room for argument.

"Sir, with respect..."

"He is mine, Drake... Nobody touches him."

Silence followed, thick with tension.

Then, "Understood, sir."

I took the elevator to the basement, Level B2.

The parking garage was dimly lit, the kind of fluorescent gray that makes everything look like a crime scene and I moved between the concrete pillars, staying in the shadows, until I spotted it... Agray Mercedes S Class, engine running, tinted windows, license plate registered to the Harrington Foundation.

I approached from the driver's blind spot, catching a glimpse of Gemi through the windshield. He was on his phone, talking fast, sweat beading on his forehead.

I opened the driver's door, and Gemi screamed, a high-pitched sound that echoed off the concrete walls like a dying animal grabbed in a deadly net.

"Hello, Gemi." I said with a smile.

"Ethan? What... how did you..."

"Bwo!" Resounded like an atomic bomb!