True Conviction (22 page)

Instinctively, I turn and drop to my front as quickly as I can, spreading my arms and legs out to stop me from falling off the edge. My left foot and left arm find the guttering and I cling tightly to the roof, burying my face in the tiles to make myself invisible.

“What happened?” asks Josh, with panic in his voice. “Are you alright?”

“Fuck!” I hiss. “I missed my jump and slipped as I landed. Anyone notice?”

“I’m looking at every heat signature on the property. No sudden movements. I think you’re good.”

“Christ—that sucked.”

I steadily get back to my feet and line up for another crack at it. I take some deep breaths, focusing on nothing but the ledge I need to grab.

I’m capable to doing this… I can easily reach it… The roof that’s psyching me out, and it shouldn’t. Come on, Adrian, you pussy! This is easy. Just get it done. No hesitation…

I take the step again and jump, stretching out as before.

My hands grab the ledge and I allow myself a split second parade in my head to celebrate.

Uh-oh…

My left hand slips off the ledge and my body swings and smashes into the wall, leaving me hanging on by my right hand. I instinctively look away to avoid hitting my face, but the side of my head bangs into the wall as a result. I grit my teeth, trying to conceal the grunt of pain. My Bluetooth earpiece crushes between the wall and the side of my head, breaking and falling to the floor a good twenty-five feet below me.

Goddammit!

I use every ounce of strength I have to get my left hand back on the ledge. I eventually manage it, and I heave myself up using my feet on the wall to gain leverage. I roll over onto my back and drop down to the roof. I lie still for a moment, breathing heavily and waiting for the adrenaline to subside so I can think clearly.

My arms, my back, and my ribs are on fire. I’ve also got no way of communicating with Josh anymore, which means my advantage over everyone below me has all but gone. The only thing I have left is the fact they don’t know I’m coming. But I won’t know where they are beforehand now, so I need to be careful.

I push myself up to one knee and scan the rooftop. It’s mostly flat, with the occasional air vent sticking up. Just off from center is the large skylight Josh mentioned. It’s a triangular glass prism with a metal frame. Both sides are around four feet high and maybe twelve feet long, joining at the top on a forty-five degree angle.

I stay low and make my way over to it, peering through from the side, so I don’t cast any shadows on the room below. This is going to be tricky, and I have no margin for error. My plan is to attach my repel hook to the top of the metal frame and descend to the room below. However, I need to break the glass first in order to do that, so I need to jump through the glass and latch it on immediately as I start to fall. If I get it wrong, I’m a dead man.

I look down into what appears to be a huge drawing room or library of some kind. In the middle is a large wooden table, with six men sitting along each side and one at each end. From my position, the guy at the end facing me has his back to the main doors. The guy at the opposite end with his back to me has a large fireplace behind him. Looking down, I can see his balding head with gray hair on the back and sides. His hands are flat on the table, with gold rings adorning almost every finger.

Roberto Pellaggio.

He’s going to die last.

I can’t see anyone in the room that isn’t at the table, but I know they’re there somewhere because of what Josh had told me earlier. I’ll need to keep my eyes open and act fast as I drop.

I unhook my two MP5s from around my neck and put one on each shoulder. I check that my repel hook is tightly secured to my belt at the back and pull a length of cable loose, ready. Finally, I reach into my pockets and pull out both smoke grenades.

I stand up straight and look down through the skylight. My breathing is slow and steady. I make myself forget everything—what I’ve just done to get here… the days before this and all the things I’ve been through and overcome… everything.

Finally, I can allow my anger to flow freely through me. I can let the unbridled rage and fury that lives just beneath the surface to rise and course through my veins. My inner Satan takes control of my body… I smile knowing that he only ever uses me for violence. This feeling, this… lack of control is what makes me so dangerous. I use it in short bursts to help me live the life I do. To do the things I do. But I rarely allow it to consume me completely. But as I look down at Pellaggio and his organization, I’m more than happy to make an exception.

I’m not really one for the more modern rock music, unlike Josh, who will happily give anything a go. I’m more stuck in my ways. But every now and then, he’ll play me a song that isn’t bad and a particular heavy metal song just pops into my mind. Staring down at all these soon-to-be corpses reminds of some lyrics:

There’s no escape from this rage that I feel, nothing is real. Waking the demon, where’d you run to? Walking in shadows, watch the blood flow.

Right now, those words seem very fitting.

I raise my right foot.

“Hope you’re watching, Josh,” I say out loud. “Because this is gonna be somethin’ pretty special…”

I smash my foot down and through the pane of glass. I pop the pins of both smoke grenades and drop them down.

My inner Satan is finally unleashed…

I LOWER MY goggles and switch them from night vision to thermal imaging—similar to what Josh will be looking at via satellite. With the smoke grenades having gone off, night vision won’t do anything except illuminate the dense fog that’s rapidly filling the room below. But thermal imaging would pick up people’s heat signatures through the smoke, making them visible to me. Albeit in a weird, glowing, red and yellow kind of way. But that’s all I need. If I can see them, I can shoot them.

I grab the repel hook and click it into place on the metal frame as I jump down. I descend fast, lying horizontally with an MP5 in each hand. I quickly scan the room and fire off a few bursts at the table. I take down four of the men sitting along the sides before anyone’s had chance to even get out of their seat.

I’ve clearly retained the element of surprise—it’s like shooting fish in a barrel. They’ve got no idea what’s happening and probably never will.

I cover the thirty-odd foot drop quickly, emptying both clips of the MP5s at the table. I’m not worrying too much about aiming—with a gun like this, the fire rate and the close proximity to the targets means that if you get the general direction right, the guns will do the hard work for you. I spray the bullets slowly back and forth, wiping out another seven men in the process, leaving just Pellaggio and the two men sitting nearest to him on either side.

I land heavily on the table and quickly detach the repel hook from my belt. I throw down the empty MP5s and draw both of my Berettas. I scan the room quickly. Bodies slump across the table and a river of blood flows steadily across the floor. Looking at them, I can just see large shapes turning blue, as they lie motionless on the ground—the heat escaping their bodies, leaving nothing but a cold corpse.

I’ve got my back to Pellaggio. I turn to my right and put a bullet through the head of the guy in front of me. That’s twelve out of fourteen from the table down in less than thirty seconds by my count.

A door off to my left suddenly bursts open and another five men run through, firing blindly in the smoke. Their muzzle flashes light up in the mist like fireworks on the Fourth of July. I figure they’re the remains of the patrols from outside. I look quickly at Pellaggio, who doesn’t seem to have fully grasped what’s happening or who I am. The look on his face is a mixture of confusion and sheer terror as he watches his empire crumbling around him.

The five men fan out as I jump off the table into a crouch. I fire at two of them, hitting one in the chest and narrowly missing the other.

“He’s over there!” one shouts, as the staccato roar of a thousand bullets fills the air.

I stand and run to my right, firing as I go. I hit another in the chest and head, his red glow fading to blue through my goggles. I add him to the tally in my head. That’s two out of the five down, leaving three, plus two at the table, including Pellaggio.

I holster the Beretta in my left hand and retrieve a frag grenade. I pull the pin and roll it over to the door. I dive away to my right as it explodes, splintering the wooden decor of the room and taking out one of the patrol guys, who’s standing near the entrance.

The guy at the table stands and attempts to drag Pellaggio to his feet. He’s overcoming the initial shock of what’s happening and is doing his duty of trying to save his boss. I take aim and shoot him square in the chest three times. Pellaggio cries out with panic.

A burst of gunfire hits the wall just above my head. I duck and return fire, missing my target but causing them to dive to the floor for cover. I run around the far wall, making my way back to the table from the other side. The two remaining guys have spread out around the room. The smoke’s starting to clear thanks to the hole I’ve made in the skylight, and they’re able to make out my position.

I can see one of them in front of me to the left, trying to stay close to Pellaggio. The other’s moving away to the right, trying to outflank me. He needs to go first... Once he’s out of the way, I’ll only have one target to aim for, because the last man is standing next to Pellaggio, so they’ll be easy pickings.

I drop to my knee and fire, hitting the guy on the right in the leg and again in the chest. He crashes to the floor with a thud.

I quickly turn back around and walk slowly over to the table. An unearthly silence falls in the room, giving me goose bumps. The one remaining guy walks over to meet me, cutting me off from the table. Unfortunately, he chose to walk toward me
then
lift his gun to shoot. I, on the other hand, have had my gun raised the whole time, so as soon as he moves, I fire once and put a bullet between his eyes. The squelching noise of the round penetrating his skull and pushing through his brain, forcing its way out the other side of his head, echoes as he falls backward to the floor.

And then there was one…

I stand next to Pellaggio, who’s rooted to his chair. His knuckles are white as he grips the arms. He’s looking up at me, eyes wide and mouth open—the look of a man who hasn’t yet realized that he’s lost everything and is about to die. I lift my goggles up, revealing my face.

“Oh my God!” he yells, his voice quivering. “You’re a goddamn monster! P-please, I’m begging you!”

I raise my gun and place it against his forehead.

“What’s the matter, Roberto?” I say. “Where’s your anger? Where’s your big mafia boss speech where you call me
kid
and insult me?”

“I’m... I’m sorry, okay! Please, just don’t kill me—I’ll give you whatever you want!”

I find it surprising, and maybe even a little disappointing, how easily he begs for his life, considering everything that’s happened before. But it’s too late. He’s made his choices, and now he has to live with the consequences.

Although, not for very long…

“You’re pathetic. I told you, and I told you, and I
fucking
told you to drop this. To leave me alone and forget about that land and your money. I warned you quite clearly that if you didn’t, this is how it would end. But still you wouldn’t let it go, would you? You stubborn, arrogant, deluded little prick! And now… now you’ve got nothing. In less than an hour, I’ve single-handedly destroyed your entire operation.”

“Adrian, please… I’ll give you anything you want! You want paying for the Jackson hit? No problem. What was it—a hundred grand? Let’s call it two hundred! Just, please, don’t kill me!”

“Holy shit… really? After all the grief you’ve given me, you’re
now
going to offer to pay me? You can shove your money straight up your ass!”

Pellaggio sighs. I can see it in his eyes—he knows now that he’s beaten. I just hope for his sake he sorts his head out and goes out like a man.

“You should’ve made sure you killed me with that car bomb. Now it’s time to reap what you sew, you piece of shit.”

“Wha-what are you talking about? I don’t know anyth—”

I fire once just to the left of his head to silence him. I’m not in the mood to listen to anything else he has to say.

“You know what? I told you and Manhattan that you’re the only two people I’ve ever warned more than once. That you’re in an exclusive club... Well, even more exclusive than that are the group of people who have seen exactly why people call me Adrian
Hell
and lived to tell the tale. Want to know how many of them there are?”

He nods nervously.

I fire again, putting a bullet through his brain. The spray of blood from the exit wound hits the fire behind him, causing the flames to dance momentarily. His head snaps back and his lifeless body slumps forward to the right. He falls off his chair and sprawls face down on the floor at my feet.

“None.”

And just like that, it’s all over.

I let out a heavy sigh and walk over to a chair that someone had knocked over in the initial panic during my descent. I stand it up and sit down, looking around me at the bodies and blood everywhere. The place looks like a battlefield…

I allow myself a couple of minutes to calm down. My heart rate slowly returns to normal. There’s a deathly silence around me as I look at the carnage I’ve caused.

Is there something wrong with me?

I mean, no normal human being should be capable of this much violence, surely? And I feel absolutely nothing. It’s like there’s a black hole inside me. I don’t feel bad, or guilty, or upset… if anything, I feel relief because I know that I’m in the clear and Pellaggio won’t try to come after me.

I guess that’s the thing, isn’t it… after everything I’ve been through in my life, I’m not a normal human being. Not anymore. And if I’m being honest with myself, I like it. I’ve made a living out of embracing that very fact and seeking comfort in it.

I’m Adrian Hell… This...
this
is what I do.

I take another deep breath and sit back, feeling the door close once again, trapping my inner Satan behind it.