Game Over!
Steven Borman
December 21st 1992. He was only eight years old at the time. He and his father were walking along the cold, crisp winter New York streets. Jack could hear his boots crunching the powder white snow beneath his feet. They reached the New York bank, and as they both entered the warm air slapped Jack's face, but it was a comfort after the icy breeze of the outside world. Jack's father went to the cashier, while Jack started to play with the pens that lay on the desk, attached by a chain of silver beads. The banks heavy doors opened, and two men strode into the bank, heads down. The men were dressed head to toe in black attire. They pulled balaclavas out from their inside pockets, and two shotguns made their way out from a hiding place. People screamed in hysteria, and ducked low to the ground, but Jack remained, upright, playing with the beaded chains. His father slowly made his way out in front of Jack, to his defence, and tried to reason with the robbers, preaching to them that if they left now they would still be safe. The stockier robber began to tremble, and dropped his gun, making his exit, running for the door. The other turned and muttered under his breath. He fired three times. The man, went flying into the wall, deep red life spitting across the floor. Jack's father saw his chance, and leapt forward, wrestling with the man. His father had police training to back him up, but was easily overpowered, and was swiftly smashed in the nose with the shotgun handle. He stared up, dazed, looking up through the barrel of the gun. The deadly thief smiled, and fired. Jack watched as the shot ripped through. Jack looked up at the killer, and noticed the balaclava had been torn. He could see into the eyes of a murderer. The man ran for the door, allowing the freezing air to rush in. The observers murmured, and cautiously began to rise. Jack ran to his father's body. Tears fell down his face, and he dropped onto the ground sobbing, his eyes soaking into his father's coat. A woman came up behind him, and picked him up, off his father. He didn't care who she was, he just hugged her and cried
Thirteen years had passed, and was now December 23rd 2005. At the age of 16 Jack's mother died, and soon after her funeral left for Los Angeles to join the LAPD, and at the age of 18 he got his dream, and was an officer of the LAPD, one of the happiest days of his life was putting on that uniform for the first time.
Jack stepped, for the first time, onto the streets of Tokyo. The city was as bright outside as it was inside. He looked at his watch, it was 7pm. The party had started an hour ago. Leaving the terminal doors, he put out his arm as a yellow taxi drew close, slowing down to a stop, allowing Jack to jump in.
'Thanks!' Jack said, sitting down on the warm seats. The back seat was light up by a tiny light on the roof, 'Tokoma Tower, please!'
The taxi moved down the roads gently, Jack staring at the buildings as they passed. The lights from these buildings lit up the night sky. They then got into view of Tokoma Tower.
The driver must have seen Jack's amazement at the size, as he said 'It 50
floors tall.'
'Wow, that's...big.' Jack stammered to find an appropriate word, the taxi slowing down to a stop in front of the building, Jack stepping out smiling at the size.
'That is 5000 yen sir' the taxi driver said holding out his hand. Jack took out his wallet having forgotten that he hadn't swapped over his currency yet.
'Well, could you come back in a couple hours, I'll still be hanging around, and I oughta' have the money by then...'
He lingered, half in, half out the cab. The driver smiled, nodded, and allowed him to go free. The vehicle drove away, as Jack turned towards the glass entrance. He stepped in, blinded at once, by the bright glittering light. When the initial shock subsided, he stared in awe at the magnificent marble arches and golden monuments that festooned the entrance. A sudden pang of nostalgia hit him. The enormous New York city bank, stood, gleaming proudly in his memory, on a frozen December morning. His eyes hit the floor, coldly in remembrance.
'Hello, may I help you?' A security guard stood up, another one in the back walking forward..
'Yeah, I'm Mr Dillon...' The security guards smiled and the one at the desk pressed a button.
'Go up Mr Dillon, floor 42.' He beckoned down the hall. Jack walked down a hall, still amazed by the halls beauty, stopped as he reached 4 elevators, the one on the left was open. Jack walked forward, leaving the marble hall and into a glass walled elevator.
'42...42...42...ahh here we go!' Jack pushed firmly on the button. The elevator started up, and slowly hummed up. As it gained height Jack could see out the corner of his eye lights flashing and turned to see in amazement, the view of Tokyo was even more magnificent than he had thought when he was in the taxi. 'Wow...!' The elevator started to slow down, the floor numbers above the door flashing: 41, 42. He looked one last time at the view as the doors slid open.
The doors opened into a hubbub of a party. Tables, layers of food spread on it, stretching the length of the room Behind the table was a door giving access to a stairwell. The party itself was busy. People were dancing, singing, drinking, talking. Jack walked into the main party floor looking around for his wife, Sheila. Behind him a woman dressed in a black, shimmering dress walked elegantly over to him, and covered his eyes.
'Guess who?' she whispered into his ear.
'Hey baby,' Jack turned and kissed his wife, 'I have missed you so much.' Sheila giggled and hugged him warmly. 'Mr Dillon?' A man dressed in a white tuxedo, walked briskly over holding out his hand.
You must be Mr Tokoma.' Jack shaking Mr Tokoma's hand, 'Pleasure to finally
meet you, and thanks for all the hospitality.'
'No problem Mr Dillon, what else can we do for our top worker's husband.' Sheila smiled, emberassed, holding onto Jack's arm.
'Come in here Jack, and get changed!' Sheila pulled on his arm, and he said a brisk bye to Mr Tokoma, they both made their way to the office slowly. Jack saying hello to fellow workers. They both walked into an office, the elegance was as amazing here as it was in the main hall. Sheil closed the door behind Jack.
'This is one hell of a building,' he said to her as he made his way to the drinks cabinet. 'What's it like working here?' He turned to his wife, as he pulled out the scotch.
'It's good,' she turned to him. He was pouring himself a drink. She held out her hand, 'Are you feeling okay, Jack?'
'Yeah, just a bit jet lagged that's all.' He smiled, and drunk the brown liquid, a burning sfeeling trickling down his thoat. He turned to her and smiled. 'I've missed you!'
Jack spent the his time meeting Sheila's friends and dancing. As the clock hit 9:30 the elevator opened and the security guard walked out, and quickly moved over to Jack.
'Mr Dillon, there is a man outside in a taxi for you.' Jack turned and nodded.
'Okay, tell him I will be right down.' The guard walked off at the same speed he had arrived. Jack grabbed the money from the office before walking briskly to the elevator, smiling at Sheila before pressing the button.
A helicopter hovered over the roof of the building, hidden above the lights of the building. 12 men, dressed in black and wearing balaclavas jumped, out followed by a rucksacks. One of the men turned to the helicopter and waved. The pilot nodded and flew off. One man was heading over to a generator box, and dumped his bag to the side of it, pulling it open and started to search vigorously. He found what he was looking for, pulling out metal wire cutters, which shined in the light. He smashed open the generator's doors and cut the wire with excitement.
The elevator jerked to a stop, throwing Jack forward and cutting his lip. Looking up at the floor he was on he realised he was only on the 20th floor.
'What the hell?' He stood up, pressing the buttons rapidly. 'You are having a laugh aren't you?' Pulling open the doors, he slipped onto the dark office floor, the only light coming from another building about a mile away. Walking over to the window he stared down. There was the taxi, sat there like a lonely bird on an icy day. Jack turned, pearing through the darkness for the door to the stairs. The door was heavy, and slammed a deafining slam behing him. Above him footsteps came to an abrupt stop.
The men stopped at the 43rd floor at the sound of a bang echoing beneath them, hitting off the stone walls. The leading man turned and looked at the biggest man.
'Claude, check it out,' The bulky man walked past the rest of the men in a swagger of being chosen. Once on the next floor down started to run. The group continued down another floor in a walk of caution and stopped. The man pulled of his balaclava, whipping his dark hair out his eyes, and smiled at the sign saying floor 42.
Jack hadn't moved since the door banged, he had been paused like a video game when you went for a break. He heard all the footsteps, then after a while their was just the one pair, hurrying, getting louder. Getting into motion he looked over the railing to see a man dressed in black running towards him, just 4 floors above. Panicking Jack turned and threw himself through the door, it slamming behind him again. He looked around for somewhere, and spotted a desk facing the door. He lunged underneath just as the door flew open. Claude was standing at the door, panting heavily like a dog on a hot summers day. He turned, Jack spotted flashing in the light, a gun. Claude walked over to the water cooler, Jack spotting his chance, quietly slipped out from under the desk and up behind Claude, grabbing him.
'Drop the gun!' Claude quiveredin fear, dropping the gun. As the gun hit the ground, Claude kicked back with force into Jack's groin, he fell to his knees in immense pain.
'Lousy American scum!' Claude had a Russian accent. He bent down, picking up the gun and aimed it at Jack. 'Get up!' Slowly, Jack rised and faced Claude. He threw himself at him, the gun flying out his hand and hitting off the ground. They both slid over a desk, smashing everything else as they went. As they both hit the ground they rolled up, Claude tripping backwards over a bin, smashing out the window. Jack slowly move over to the window, holding on at the sight of the distance to the ground. Looking out, Claude was hanging from the window girder for his life, tears streaking down his face.
'Please do not kill me!' Jack looked into his eyes, grabbing his hand and pulling him in. They both fell back onto the ground, panting.
'Sorry man!' Jack grabbed the gun and hit Claude round the head, knocking him out. He pushed Claude of him, and stood up, wiping himself down. He walked quickly back into the stairwell. He stared up the stairs. 'It's a long way to the top if you wanna save the hostages!'
Meanwhile the other men burst into floor 42, armed and ready wit their guns. The dark haired leader waked in.
'Everybody stay quiet, get on the ground and you will all be fine!' he called out to the room, the people all falling to the ground, shaking. 'My name is Jeremy, and I will be your kidnapper for the night.' He bowed, a few of his followers sniggered. 'I must talk to the owner of this marvellous company.'
Mr Tokoma stood up, and stared at Jeremy, 'I am here!'
'That was just to easy,' he whipped out a gun, shooting Mr Tokoma in the head. His
body slumped into a heap on the ground, acting as a starting gun for people to scream. The armed men started to fire into the air to silence them. Jeremy walked forward, brushing his hard out of his eyes, 'If you let us go about our business, nobody else will get hurt.'
Jack was gasping for air as he made it to the kidnapped floor. He had heard the gunfire a floor below and that had gave him his last blast of energy. He collapsed against the wall, catching his breath. The door slamme open, Jack sitting bolt upright. Two men ran down the stairs without noticing him.
'The decoy guards?' He thought to himself watching the two men running
down the stairs. and out of sight. The door was almost closed when Jack slowly looked in, the coast was clear. He quickly dived into the room and under the large table. The room was in silence, all but a few whimpering people. Looking out from under the table, he counted 5 mens, armed with AK's, walking in circles around the hostages. In the office that he had changed into his suit in, he could see 4 men, one of which was Jeremy, who sat behind the desk, looking smug.
'Arm the bombs onto the vault.' He said, smiling and cracking his knuckles.
'Yes Jeremy!' The 3 men grabbed the rucksacks and moved out of the
office quickly, past the table. Jack stopped breathing as they past, and continued when he heard the gentle close of the door.
The police pulled up to the buildings front smootly stopping. The taxi driver standing outside his cab, smoking, by evidence of the fag ends on the ground, his 5th cigarrette. As soon as the police car stopped, a tall man steppe out the police car, staring up at the building with a face of disgrace on.
'Excuse me, I am Detective Jackson.' Flashing his badge at the driver, who nodded in approval, 'Are you the man who contacted us?'
'Yes, that window up there smashed and two men were up there,' The driver pointed.
'Thank you sir, men come on!' Jackson and three men walked towards the
building, gripping their holsters. When they started to draw close they could see 2 security guards stand up and walk towards the door. Jackson pulled out his badge and flashed it at the men. As soon as one of the men caught site of the badge, his eyes widened in shock, calling back to the other guard, who bashed down on a button closing shutters at the doors. 'Open up, this is the Tokyo police!'
'Get back or die!' The closest guard pulled out a gun, waving it towards them. He slowly placed it into the shutters gap. Jackson gestured to his men to retreat quickly, still staring at the men as he backed away..
'Call back up!' Jackson demanded, furiously.
Jack quietly peaked out from under the table, his knees starting to hurt having been kneeling for so long. Since being hidden, the guards had shifted around the room twice. The room was quiet, until the office door slammed opened.
'The police are here!' Jeremy was standing at the office door, looking enraged. His black shirt had been taken off, and instead he was wearing a black shirt. 'We need to give them an incentive for them to stay away! We don't leave here without the money!' He gestured violently to 2 of the guards to take hostages to the roof.
Jack pulled out the gun quickly. Silently he checked the guns clip, there was onlly 2 bullets. 'Damn' Looking out from the hiding place, he watched as 10 hostages were pushed up at gunpoint and force marched out into the stairwell. He sighed relief as he spotted her against the wall, directly opposite him.
'Keep them quiet,' Jeremy said to the guards as he pushed the last hostage through the door. As soon as the stair door slammed, so did Jeremy in almost repetiton with the officer door. Slipping quickly, but quietly from under the table he rolled out against the door. Checking he was safe, he gently pushed through the door backwards. He checked to see where the guards were. He was safe. He pressed up against the door and slid out. The staircase was cold, the hostages were walking slowly to the roof, the march of death. Jack slowly climbed the stairs, unholstering his gun as climbed. Upon reaching the roof, he copul hear coming from the opposite side a strong whirring sound.
'Keep the hostages together!' Jack pushed open the door, to see that the hostages had been lined up at the buildings edge. Quickly staring in the direction of the whirring, a helicopter was slowly getting lower.
The guard closest to the door pulled out a radio, 'Shall we proceed Jeremy?' The radio crackled. Jack knew what he was doing, much like the Roman emperors who decided the fate of gladitors in the colleseum, Jeremy was deciding the fate of the hostages.
'Yes!' The radio stopped crackling. The guard gave the pilot a thumbs up before moving, along with the other guard, aside. The wind on the roof became more intense, Jack's hair was whipping aroind his head, like a cowboy swinging a laso.
'Lock and loaded,' The pilot yelling, lowering the helicopter to the buildings edge. Jack could see mounted to the helicopters front was a gatling gun, and it started to rotate. this was his only chance, running forward, Jack cught the pilots attention. 'Looks like we got ourselves a bandit!' The guards turned towards him, opening fire. He quickly dived behind a generator. Jack readied his gun.
'Come out American!' The guards laughed heartily, the laughing become clearer on his left side. Quickly, he fell to his side, shooting the guard twice in the chest, his body collpasing. Swiftly he threw the empty gun along the ground, picking up the AK.
'Drop the gun or the hostage will die!' He turned to see the other guard holding the hostatge, with a gun to his head. The typical coward move. Looked to the left he spotted, for the first time, that the hostages had gone. 'All fell!' The guard started to laugh, pressing the gun harder into the hostages head. Lowered himself to the ground, Jack slowly placed down the gun. The moment he let go, he knew he had made a big mistake as a gunfire echoed across the roof followed by the sound of a body hitting the ground. Quickly he looked up, the guard sneering as he ran back inside the building. The hostages dead body staring out at Tokyo. The wind around him started to get fierce.
'Hey American!' He turned, in shock he fell onto the hard ground. The gun started to rotate. Rolling to his right behind a metal box as the gun burst across the rooftop. Jack was shaking, the adrenaline rushing through him. As he pushed himself against the box, his back hit something, turning he realised it was a rucksack. He pulled it onto his lap, and opened it. Inside he found a handgun, a flare gun and some other useless stuff. The helicopter was firing close to the box now. The gun stopped to cool down.
'Lock,' he quickly jumped out from behind the box, 'and loaded! Jack aimed and fired the flare gun at the pilot. The pilot screamed as the flare exploded on impact. Quickly Jack dived as the helicopter spun round in the air, sinking past the building. An explosion told Jack it had hit the buildings side.
As Jack lying back in exhaustion, a radio buzzed on: 'The bombs are set, we are starting up the elevators!'
Jeremy, 2 guards and a woman entered the elevator, the doors sliding shut with a soft noise, before humming slowly down to the floor -5. As the doors Jeremy and the guards marched out, leaving the woman alone, along the long stone walled corridors.
'Sir, it is ready!' the guard said as he moved aside for Jeremy's approval.
'Good work!' Pulling out a handgun, shooting the man in the head. 'We will never get the money out now, with no helicopter!'
The other guards held back, shocked. 'S..sir, would you still like us to explode it?'
'No! We will never get out of here alive. We must go down in glory and dignity, with the flames of the building!' The guards started to move backwards, awkwardly. 'Bring our guest!' A guard moving off down the corridor. 'Rest of you, pack up the rest of the bombs!'
'Sir!' A guard moved down the corridor pushing forward a woman dressed in a black dress.
'The Americans wife!' Jeremy smiled, a giant grin.
'Go to hell!' Sheila raised her head, spitting in his face. Jeremy fumed and slapped her to the ground.
'That's where your husband will be soon enough!' He turned, watching his men.
Jack opened the door, dodging the smoke that flew out of the open door. Slowly walking in, he peered over the railing, down below the metal corpse of a helicopter lay supported into the wall. He turned, quickly running down the stairs and paused outside the door of floor 42. He unholstered his gun, sweat dripping down his face. He threw himself into the door, looking around for another anslaught but to his surprise the guards were gone. The hostages were in s much shock as he was, as they had all stared at the door in absolute terror.
'Quick, get up!' Jack said as he ran to the elevator and hammering the buttons with his fist. The elevator dial moved up stopping on floor 21, then started to move up again. He turned. 'Quick, get down!'
The elevator doors slid open. Claude stepped out, gripping his fists around a submachine gun.
'Hello!' He sneered at the hostages, who in return all screamed in panic. Claude bellowed 'SHUT UP!' Aiming the gun at a crying man.
'Hey!' Turning his head quickly, Claude's nose broke as it collided with Jack's fist. Blood spattered on the floor. Stunned, Claude grabbed onto a pillar to steady himself. Jack turned to the hostages hastily, 'Get out now!' The hostages only needed told once, as they all got up and ran for the elevators. Suddenly, Jack was flung across the room, smashing through the table. Claude was up, and angrier than ever.
'YOU DIE DILLON!' Jack stopped as he stood up. How did they know his name, his body was stunned. He looked around at the panicking hostages. Sheila wasn't there! Claude's fist hit him with impact, smashing him off the officer door. Jack lost all care for his life, the elevator closed, all hostages were gone. He quickly threw himself at Claude, smashing his head off the wall. Jack jumped up and ran for the elevator, leaving Claude for the second time out cold.
'I'm coming Sheila!' He hammered the buttons.
The elevator dinged opened on the garage floor, hostages spilling out like beans from a upturne tin, all running for the garage exit.
'Jackson!' Turning, Jackson spotted the police officer calling him over. As he got closer he heard the screams of the hostages behind the huge garage gates.
'Get the cutters, we get these people out now!' A hostage tugge on Jackson's coat.
'Inside, a policeman called Jack Dillon.' In awe Jackson turned back to the man. He had taught Jack in LAPD, eh had been his commanding officer.
'Why is he still inside?' The hostage smiling at the site of freedom.
'His wife is inside!' Jackson walked off, grabbing the first officer he could find.
'I want these everyone out of the area. This building isn't safe anymore!'
The elevator hummed down slowly. He didn't know which floor he was going to, but it didn't matter, he had to save his wife. The door opened on floor -5. Armed and ready, Jack moved along the cold corridor. Death hung in the air, corpses strewn from floor to floor, there was no escape from the overwhelming lifelessnes
'What the hell?' he check them all, all terrorists. He sat upright in fright as a phone started to ring behind him. Picking it up he waited for a noise.
'Jack?' It was Sheila.
'Sheila, oh my god, are you alright?' All the panic left his body.
'Yes, Jack, quick, come to the 20th floor!' The phone went dead. Jack threw down the phone in a new sense of panic, and ran back up the corridor towards the elevator. It opened a terrorsist stood there, covered in blood.
'He...he is crazy...' He collapsed on the cold ground, staining it with blood. Jack grabbed the door before it closed, and stepped inside, pressing the button for the 20th floor, wondering wjhat was going on.
The doors slid open. Darkness. Emptiness. All except for Sheila standing in the middle of the room.
'Sheila!' Jack ran forward.
'Mr Dillon,' The lights blasted on. 'Freeze!' Jeremy and 3 men all surrounded him. The 3 holding guns rained for Jack's heart. 'You have bothered me to much now, I must watch you die!' Holding his hands up, he let his gun drop. Before it hit the ground, he fell back, grabbing the gun quick and fired 3 shots at each of the men, hitting them all square in the head.
'Jeremy,' fixing the gun on Jeremy, 'you freeze!' Jeremy turned and held his arms up. Sheila ran over and put her arms round Jack. 'Why did you kill your own men?'
'Because, they would not die with dignity, they wanted to try and escape, be captured. Dying keeps them at peace, they will never be found under the rubble of the building.' He nodded towards the bombs on the walls.
'Your crazy, you'll kill yourself!' Jack was staring into the cold eyes of Jeremy. The elevator moved hummed onto the floor. They both turned. The door opened, Claude stood their, gun in hand.
'As I said before, I am not leaving without the money!' Jeremy dived to the side. Claude opened fire at Jack, missing and hit the bomb on the wall. He could feel the heat hit off him, losing Sheila. Jack felt his bones crunch against the wall.
Jack awoke in the middle of the floor.. The entrance way to the left had
been destroyed. To his right, Sheila had been tied up. To his left there
was a hole in the wall, leading to the stairwell. He realised he had been
tied up as well, he struggled with the ropes.
'No point struggling, Mr Dillon!' Jeremy came walking across the floor, a
terrorist falling him.
'And why would that be, Jeremy?' Jack flicked his eyes between Jeremy and Claude.
'Because, if you escape, your wife will die!' Jeremy clicked his fingers.
Claude pulled out a shotgun and held it. 'Now for the real party, Jack.'
He pulled out from his pocket, a control pad, and pushed the red button.
'What did you do?' Jack could hear beeping all around the room.
'Destroying everything! We all die with dignity!' He sneered. Claude quivered, dropped the gun and ran
for the hole in the wall. 'Nobody runs!' Jeremy quickly picked up the gun and
blasted him three times with some sort of sick ectasy.
'...Jack...' Sheila fidgeted.
'You have 5 minutes remaining Jack, use them well.'
'I plan to.' He locked Jeremy's foot between his leg and tripped him up,
smashing him to the ground, the gun flying. Jack jumped up, balancing
himself well, for a man with his hands tied.
'You want to play that game, do you Jack?' Jeremy ran for Jack pushing him
down to the ground. Jeremy then coolly walked over to the shotgun. Jack
looked around and spotted a piece of glass, and pulled it to him and started
to saw through his ropes. His hand was bleeding, he could feel the warm
blood dribble down his arms and over the rope. Jeremy meanwhile was loading
up the shotgun, and murmuring to himself. The rope finally was cut.
'It's game over, Jack!' Jeremy aimed to gun for Jack's face. They looked
into each others eyes, and Jack knew these eyes. The eyes of a killer. The
eyes of his father's killer. A new rage erupted in him. He had the glass,
and threw it at Jeremy's face. It hit, slashing his face. Blood hit the
ground, but the gun stayed held in his hand.
'You killed my father!' Jack ran for Jeremy, who looked up, his eyes
slashed. He still had the gun, but before he could aim it, Jack brought him
down, punching him, the gun hitting off the ground, firing a bullet.
Jeremy kicked Jack off, and ran over to get the gun. Jack quickly ran for
him, and knocked him down. The two men rolled over to the edge. They both
grabbed the gun, and fought over it. They stood up and faced each other.
'One minute Jack.' Jeremy started to laugh. Jack lunged forward, throwing
all his shoulder weight into Jeremy's gut. He grabbed the gun with his
hands, and they both hit the ground. Jack picked himself up. The gun in
his hands. The anger pumping through his veins. His dad falling to the
ground in his mind.
'I will give you death!' He aimed the gun to Jeremy's head and pulled the
trigger. He could feel the bullet flying through the barrel. Jeremy's body slumped over.
Jack quickly dropped the gun, and rushed over to Sheila. She was dead. Dead. Jack hugged
into his wife's body, sobbing with a feeling of uselessness, his heart falling. He remembered his father, and the day
he died. He sobbed into him that day, knowing now his killer was dead. It was
Jeremy caused Sheila's death. And it had been him, Jack, who had killed the killer. His heart rose as he thought of the peace of his father and wife. He turned, 30 seconds till the bombs blew.
Jack grabbed a rope from the ground, tying it around a girder. He made sure it was secure
and readied himself.
'I love you Sheila,' He jumped, the wind hitting of his face as he flew
down the building towards the ground. In his mind he was counting down. He had 10 seconds left, the ground was now closer than ever. 'Is it Game Over?'
Copyright of Steven Borman