The next day.
Late at night.
23:30.
Just as Alex Cross had predicted.
Nearly twenty-four hours had passed since the third wave of battle…
And nothing had happened.
Other than the six buses in front of the hotel, now reduced to charred wrecks… and the piles of corpses scattered across the ground!
During this long 24 hours, the High Table made no moves.
In fact, just three hours earlier, the High Table even canceled the open bounty on everyone inside the Lighthouse Hotel.
All these signs seemed to tell the outside world:
It was all over.
But only the twelve seats of the High Table—and Alex Cross—knew the truth.
A far more brutal battle was about to begin!
Top Floor.
Alex Cross's room.
Bathroom.
Anna and Fox suddenly shot up from the hardened wax bath.
After a deep breath, they sat upright at the same time.
The sound quickly drew Alex Cross from outside the room.
Soon, he walked in.
Behind him, Susie carried two small glasses of vodka.
She handed them to the two women.
One glass each.
After drinking it down, a warmth spread through their stomachs, quickly driving away the chill lingering on their bodies.
Alex Cross carefully inspected their wounds.
All had healed.
He let out a small sigh of relief and said:
"Get dressed. Come out and eat something to restore your strength. It won't be long… before we're fighting again."
As he spoke, Susie handed them each towels.
The two stepped out of the tub, took the towels, and dried themselves off.
Then they put on their prepared undergarments and bulletproof suits.
Once ready, they followed Alex Cross into the living room.
On the dining table sat two lavish meals, steaming hot.
The two women walked straight over, sat down, and quickly began eating.
On the living room sofa, John Wick, Caine, and Duggan were chatting idly.
Thanks to Alex Cross's foresight, the past 24 hours had been unusually peaceful for them.
John Wick spent time with Helen.
Caine with his daughter.
Duggan… well, his time was spent eating, polishing his weapons, sleeping, training, then eating again.
"Ahem!"
A light cough cut through the chatter.
Alex Cross sat down in a single sofa chair.
The three men immediately fell silent, all eyes turning toward him.
His gaze, in turn, fixed on John Wick.
"John, in the last battles, because your abdominal wound hadn't fully healed, I kept you out. But now… you're almost back to normal. Next round, I want you to show them just what the Baba Yaga is capable of."
The half-joking words carried the weight of what was coming.
The looming slaughter instantly sobered everyone.
Simple.
Clear.
John Wick nodded once.
"Mm."
That was his answer.
"The next first wave—John, you and Caine will hold the first to third floors. You don't need to kill every one of them. Any who slip past… we'll handle upstairs."
After hearing the reply, Alex Cross's smile faded.
He began laying out serious preparations for the first battle.
At the dining table, Anna and Fox kept eating while listening closely.
Even though the first wave likely wouldn't involve them, they still memorized every detail carefully.
By the time they finished their meals, Alex Cross had completed his battle plan.
He stood, walked to the liquor shelf, and pulled out an expensive bottle of whiskey.
From the cabinet, he took six glasses.
He poured and handed one to each of them.
Then he raised his own glass high, voice ringing with conviction:
"This drink—may your hunt be satisfying."
They drank.
John Wick and Caine were the first to head downstairs.
Their task was the heaviest.
They would first meet with Margarita to pick up gear and prepare for combat.
Duggan followed soon after, assigned to floors three through six, with a supply point waiting on the sixth.
Anna and Fox, freshly out of the wax bath, were told by Alex Cross to rest on the top floor for now.
Time ticked away.
At around 23:55, Alex Cross had Susie send a dozen low-ranked killers, carrying sacks and shovels, to the hotel entrance—pretending to clear away the corpses.
This act quickly reached the High Table's scouts.
Within minutes, two buses turned the corner and drove toward the hotel.
The dozen killers at the entrance, seeing the buses approach, instantly dropped their tools and hurried back into the hotel, heading for the first floor.
This time, the buses did not stop too close.
They pulled up behind the six already-charred husks of buses.
Doors opened.
Sixty fully armed enforcers of the High Table's squads stepped out.
Their eyes immediately fell on the nearly two hundred mangled corpses at the entrance.
The sight was so horrific, so blood-soaked, that several nearly vomited on the spot.
A shadow of dread settled over their hearts.
Death's presence hung thick in the air.
Yet, no matter their fear, the High Table's orders had to be obeyed.
They re-formed ranks.
Ten squads.
Moving past the scattered remains, they began their slow approach toward the hotel entrance.
The war—
was about to erupt again!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Check out my new work:"Vampire Diaries: Curse of the Talisman"
If you're interested, you can read advanced chapters:
pat reon .com / Samorash
~> Bonus Chapter every 300PS!!