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“W-wait,” he stutters.

Gio tightens his grip. “You know, I don’t think we will.” He squeezes until the guy goes limp, and then he drops him like a sack of potatoes.

“The executive suite is on floor eighteen,” Paolo says, checking the directory mounted beside the elevators. “Are we going straight there, or…?”

“Gio is,” I confirm. “We’re going to take the scenic route and work on that list you gave me.”

As Gio gets on the elevator, both Paolo and I pull our guns out. Then we start the trek up the stairs.

Reaching the seventh floor, I wonder why in the fuck they’re stupid enough to announce names and departments on the doors. That’s just making this little hunt all too easy. But here we are, at the finance department.

“Go ahead,” I tell Paolo. “I’ll continue up. Come meet us on eighteen when you’ve taken out the fuckers.”

My son salutes me before throwing the door wide open. As it swings shut, I hear people screaming. A part of me wants to go in there and be the one who ends the two financial officers myself. But my ego isn’t what matters right now.

Getting all our targets is the only thing that matters.

As I finally reach the eleventh floor, the home of the trial experts, I’m cursing myself for not doing more cardio.

When I open the door, I’m immediately met by a security guard. “What’s your business here?” he asks. His eyes widen comically when he notices the gun in my hand.

The idiot reaches for his walkie. He fumbles so hard he almost drops it, which gives me enough time to rush him. I slam my fist into his face, smiling when he staggers.

“Listen up,” I snarl. “I don’t have an issue with you. I just need you to point me in the direction of Halk and Brighton.”

The guard looks at me for half a second, then he must decide he doesn’t get paid enough for this shit because he points at the closest door. “They… they share that o-office,” he stammers.

Nodding, I gesture with my gun for him to get in front of me. “Let’s take a walk.”

“B-but I—”

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” I growl, cutting him off. “Get in front of me and walk over there. If you don’t, I’ll shoot you right now.”

Predictably, he does as I say. Like most people with a gun digging into their back, he follows my orders. Even when we reach the door and I tell him to open it. As soon as he’s done what I said, I slam the butt of the gun into his head hard enough for him to pass out.

Then I turn my focus on the man and woman in front of me. Halk, the woman, lets out an ear-splitting scream.

“Who are you? Let us go. We can pay,” Brighton rambles.

Instead of answering, I aim my gun at Brighton and pull the trigger. That silences Halk really quickly. Her scream cuts off around the same time Brighton falls to the floor, blood gushing from the hole between his eyebrows.

“No, no, no, no,” Halk chants, covering her ears with her hands.

“Oh, yes,” I say.

Then I pull the trigger again, ending Halk without ceremony.

When I turn around, I see people running around, some are even hiding behind curtains and chairs. Since I’m not here for them, I ignore them and walk back out to the staircase and take the rest of the stairs to the eighteenth floor two at a time.

I’m almost there when Paolo catches up to me. He’s covered in blood, way more than is expected from shooting your target and then getting out of there.

“Are they dead?” I ask.

He nods. “Oh, yes.”

When we reach the eighteenth, the door to the stairs is already open and Gio’s waiting for us, looking entirely too fucking pleased with himself.

“Took you long enough,” he observes.