"Warning: The next chapter delves into harsh violence and dark details. Read carefully—every impression matters."
*****The crash shook the hotel to its core, halls trembling as if under an earthquake's wrath. At the entrance, Bach's truck smashed into the glass façade, alarms blaring to herald the start of chaos. He stepped out with rigid features carved in anger and vengeance; in his eyes there was only Rafal—the man who had humiliated him with his cruel scheme, and whose name reopened the wound of Zuzanna.
Far off, Earl watched through his sniper scope, shifting between angles, torn between one shot and the next.
— "What the hell is that bastard doing here…?"
Jack's tense voice cut through:
— 'Dead angle on my side… do I advance?'"
Earl, firm:
— "No. Hold your position. That's Bach… and he's here for blood."
*****Above, Zuzanna lay in the bathtub, her body soaked by water leaking from a bullet-torn faucet. She looked as though trapped in a waking nightmare. Rafal strode toward her, eyes blazing, his voice erupting in fury:
— "So here you are… I'll make you pay!"
But his dominance lasted no more than a breath. A shadow loomed behind him. Something coiled around his neck, choking him until he slipped into unconsciousness. He was dragged to the balcony, tied with one of the rappel ropes dangling from the roof. The rope looped mercilessly around his neck, his wrist bound, his body fixed in a cruel half-hanging, half-standing pose. His head dangled at a sharp angle over the edge—like a puppet swaying on a single string.
The assailant emerged—dressed in black, weapons mostly knives, masked and gloved.
It wasn't long before he pulled Zuzanna from the tub. She was trembling, struggling to steady herself. Wrapping her in a cover, he carried her swiftly to the roof. There, he hid her behind a water tank, commanding her not to move. But she was too dazed to grasp any of it.
He muttered bitterly as he turned back:
— "Damn it… the boss is going to be furious.
Already late… did I really have to make my entrance dramatic? Ah, you fool, Luca!"
Suddenly he donned a gas mask, cut the power, and threw himself onto the couch, waiting for the inevitable intruders. Luca's intentions went far beyond eliminating Rafal…
The moment the men touched the transparent wires, sharp explosions burst from the canisters strapped to them—some filled with gas, others with tear agents. In an instant the air choked with smoke; one by one, the men collapsed in the dense haze.
****Meanwhile, below, Bach charged into battle without mercy. Bodies fell around him, blood painting a trail beneath his relentless steps.
On the second floor, Kazimir waited, convinced a trap was closing in on him. He listened to the silence, broken only by the heavy boots of men climbing the stairs.
Cautiously he opened the door, yanked a man inside, and pressed a knife to his throat.
The man trembled, pleading:
— "Please, no, sir Kazimir! I didn't do anything!"
Kazimir snapped:
— "What's happening? Speak!"
The man gasped:
— "I don't know… emergency. I think there are intruders in Rafal's suite."
Kazimir shoved him out coldly, muttering:
— "And who dares such madness? Should I enjoy this… or slip away in peace?"
He reached for the phone to call Rafal's floor, but the line was dead. A faint grin touched his lips:
— "Better than expected… I won't ignore this. A little fun won't hurt."
Moving like a fox, he chose the fire escape over the main stairs, checking rooms one by one to make sure no one could ambush him.
At the same time, Earl knew Bach's presence made everything more dangerous. Luca would need backup—no doubt. Earl slipped quietly from his apartment, climbed to the rooftop, and leveled his scope across the scene. A sudden, strange movement caught his eye. He adjusted focus—there, a girl staggering on the rooftop.
Zuzanna.
She tried to stumble her way to freedom, wavering between delirium and exhaustion. Her gaze darted across the rooftop until it landed on the fire escape. With shaky steps, she began her descent.
Earl whispered under his breath:
— "What is that girl doing here?"
Jack's voice crackled back, confused:
— "What girl? You mean…?"
Earl:
— "The one from the center… the one that bastard Bach tried to abduct!"
Jack, shocked:
— "What?! What kind of joke is this?"
Earl:
— "Maybe she was taken… but something tells me Luca's the one who put her there."
As he spoke, Earl's eye caught movement at the bottom of the stairs: Kazimir, advancing step by step toward Rafal's suite.
Earl, sharply:
— "Jack, move now. A man's on the stairs… I'll keep him off the girl."
Zuzanna staggered down, while Kazimir advanced with measured caution. Earl steadied his scope, finger on the trigger… but hesitated. He didn't yet know if this man was an enemy—or perhaps an unlikely ally. The conflict burned inside his head.
Jack, tense over the radio:
— "So… what do we do?"
Earl exhaled slowly, shifted his aim, and fired. The bullet whistled past Kazimir's head, shattering against the hotel wall—a warning shot.
Kazimir recoiled instantly, diving through a side window, glass exploding across his arm.
— "Damn it… that nearly ended me!" he snarled, brushing shards from his skin. His eyes fixed on the bullet hole in the wall, and he muttered darkly:
— "A sniper… the threads are far more tangled than I imagined."
Then he dashed deeper into the room without looking back.
Jack's voice crackled in:
— "Did it work?"
Earl, eyes still locked on Zuzanna:
— "It's not over yet…"
Jack pulled away with the truck, then circled around to the back where the stairwell was. Keeping his distance, his breath was suspended, chained by orders. Zuzanna barely reached the top floor, her steps faltering, staggering. Suddenly the air twisted with a piercing sound — heavy gunfire tore through the silence, bursts of bullets ripping through windows and walls. She screamed in hysterical terror, her voice breaking apart. She froze for a moment, then her body gave way and the light burned out in her eyes; she collapsed unconscious.
Jack, his voice choked with rage:
— "Come on, girl! Enough… move!"
But there was no response. Then he muttered through clenched teeth:
— "Damn the orders…"
He slipped on a black mask and gloves, then burst out of the truck. Earl shouted :
— "Get back now! What are you doing?"
Jack ignored him. He rushed up the stairs, feet pounding as if the ground itself was shrinking beneath him. He bent down toward Zuzanna, lifted her into his arms, carried her to the back of the truck, then leapt into the driver's seat and sped away. On the road, he slammed the brakes suddenly, reaching back to feel her pale face. His heart was hammering — what if she'd been hit?
Inside, Kazimir had reached the fifth floor. Suddenly, a burning sting hit his nose… traces of a narcotic gas were seeping through the air. He clutched his face and roared:
— "Open the windows! Turn on the ventilation!"
But the men staggered one after another; ragged coughs, heavy eyes, bodies collapsing like broken dolls. Their voices faded into a suffocating silence, while Kazimir snarled, fighting to endure:
— "Any sign of Rafal?"
One of them rasped before collapsing:
— "No one… has managed… to get in yet…"
Kazimir gestured sharply, sending another squad forward. One man stepped ahead, his grip trembling on the pistol that weighed him down. Suddenly a sharp cry cut off his breath forever.
Kazimir growled:
— "Damn it! This won't work… Who are you? What do you want?!"
The silence tightened, then a dry voice, cold as steel, echoed in Russian:
— "Our demand is clear… if it isn't met, your master dies."
The men froze in place. One of them dared to ask in broken Russian:
— "And what do you want?"
A low chuckle, then Luca's whisper:
— "I want to speak… with Kazimir himself."
Kazimir's face hardened, and deep inside, a dreadful suspicion crawled in: could the very hand pushing him from the beginning… be the same one seeking to finish him today? The men faltered, and words slipped from one of them before he could bite his tongue:
— "Sir… he's asking for you!"
Kazimir boiled with rage, shouting:
— "Shut up!"
But the moment shattered. Two grenades rolled across the floor… and Kazimir bellowed:
— "Run!"
Only seconds passed before a thunderous explosion tore the hall apart in shards and bodies. In the midst of the inferno, Luca had already outrun the storm, hurling himself onto the balcony and leaping, clinging to a rappelling rope, his legs scraping against the wall. The swing carried him violently, and there his eyes locked onto a sight that would never leave him: Rafal, dangling by his neck like a hanged puppet. The blast hurled him off the balcony, his body thrashing in the air before finally surrendering to death.
Luca did not blink; he knew the ending had been written from the start. He dropped fast, smashed through a third-floor window, and slipped into the stairwell. His silenced pistol reaped every man who blocked his path with a quiet shot, until he reached an open room.
His heart stopped for a beat… his instincts had been right. Inside, Kazimir sat clutching his bloodied leg, shards of the explosion embedded in it, his breath ragged, his face twisted with fury and fear.
Outside, Jack and Earl froze in shock at the sheer scale of the blast. Flames and black smoke poured from the windows. This was not part of the plan… things had gone far beyond what they expected.
Earl, pressing the walkie-talkie, shouted:
— "Plan B…"
He steadied his sniper rifle and rained down bullets on the scattered men, while Luca carved his way forward with no return…....
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