PART ONE: The Shadow Before

Chapter Eleven: The Prince of Hell

The footsteps soon faded away behind me as I approached the wooden door to which all the walkways eventually gravitated – the central hub. The brain of the building. The control room. Lights were adjusted, curtains raised, pulleys and cogs controlled. One man could run the whole building, sat in this room. It now served a very different function. One man was controlling something very different behind this door.

Hades voice was clearly audible even through the door. The muffled cries were drenched in tight frustration. He was attempting to organise his men, but it was like holding back a swollen river. They had the target. Screw anything else.

I kicked the door open. It swung back on its hinges and slammed hard against the wall. George Harvard Desoto, Hades, prince of Hell, spun around and almost cried out in horror. His walkie-talkie fell to the floor.

Seeing such sudden fright take over Hades was startling. He was a huge man – well over six foot, and just as wide. He had no neck. His rippled, ox-like body was wrapped in a long brown trench-coat. The collar was flicked up, around a neat black buzz cut. He wore a tight grey muscle vest and white cords beneath, every muscle clearly visible. As were the two Desert Eagles slid neatly into his holster.

I shot him in the chest. It didn't pay to waste time with a man like Hades. He fell backwards, one beefy hand clutching his torso, blood seeping between his fingers. A pair of cold grey eyes stared up at me with something closer to rage than pain.

"Payne, you bastard," he growled.

I shut the door behind me and slammed the lock home. I didn't want any distractions. And I wanted some answers.

I walked towards Hades. He had fallen to one knee and was peering up at me expectantly.

"You meddling bastard," he repeated.

I laid the gun on his temple. "Meddling? I'd call it self-defence. You brought this crap on to me. I didn't ask for any of this."

"You should never have stuck your damn nose in where it wasn't wanted. And neither should that bitch."

I only resisted pulling the trigger with the greatest mental struggle. My finger was quivering. "I want some answers, Hades. And you're selling them."

"I'm not telling you anything. You can't make me suffer anywhere near what he can. You don't scare me."

"Want to try that out?"

Hades chuckled. His eyes were glistening. He was choking back the pain. "You've made a big mistake, Max. You have no idea what you're messing with."

"This routine is getting old. I'm offering you the chance to get out of here sans the bullet where your brains used to be. You tell me what Mr Big slipped you the cash to nail Bravura and take a shot at me, and I'll go pay him a visit. He won't touch you."

"It's not that simple. It's too big. We're talking government here. You can't win this one."

I sighed. "Don't go thinking you're not dispensable, because you are. I just want to save some time and a few more lives. I don't care how many of you creeps I've got to work on before one of you fingers the bad guy, do you understand?"

Hades only smiled. It was a smile of victory. It was a smile I wasn't about to crack. I shivered. You never heard about this sort of loyalty in Hades' line of work, least of all from Hades. When the hired hands had a Beretta against their heads, they generally talked. What did it matter if bad things happened to their employer? It wasn't their problem. They've been paid either way. This wasn't the way things happened. Not unless this was something pretty damn serious.

Rushing footsteps outside the door. Excited cries. Lots of itchy trigger fingers. I lost my attention for just a split second, the tiniest fraction of time, but it was enough for Hades to swing a fist into my gut, throwing me back against the monitors, and leap to his feet, reaching into his holsters for the two Desert Eagles.

I didn't think, and it probably saved my life. Instead I leapt across the room as Hades opened fire, a punishing barrage that blew out circuitry and whole chunks of wood. As I fell behind the cover of an old desk I could feel the wind off each individual bullet as it skimmed just centimetres away from me before taking huge chunks out of the wall. I felt a brief flash of pain as a bullet grazed against my ankle. Blood flowed into my sock. I winced and threw my back against the desk as behind me Hades continued to empty both guns.

I didn't breathe until the shooting ended and the air was hazy with smoke. I'd gotten lucky. Had I just been a little too slow my guts would have been decorating the wall. No time to waste. Hades was moving towards the death, emptying the clip, reloading…

I jumped out of my hiding place and landed square on Hades chest. He outweighed me by at least fifty pounds, but I had surprise on my side, and both my and Hades were thrown across the room. Hades landed hard on the smoking monitors, letting out a little wince as I knocked the air out of him. Fighting for every precious second, I pinned down Hades' hands and head-butted him. An icy pain briefly exploded in my temple, but there was a loud crunch and blood gushed from Hades' nose until it looked like he was wearing a red beard.

I squeezed on his wrists and twisted them hard until I could hear the tendons scream. Hades opened his mouth to cry out and the guns fell to the floor. I brought up a knee and slammed it hard in his gut, then released his left wrist and punched him hard in the eye. It swelled up instantly and turned a fiery red. I punched him again, going for the knockout, trying to disable him, but it was like punching a wall of muscle. His lip split and a tooth flew to the back of his throat. I punched him again, almost unable to stop, riding the adrenaline. Riding the rage.

He gathered enough of himself together to kick me off. I fell backwards, landing on the desk. Hades stood weakly on two legs like jelly. His face was a bloody mess. His wrists were useless. But something inside him refused to go down. I guessed he was like me. Even at the very brink of death, even when every muscle seems to be screaming for rest, you just can't silence that voice that says Stand Up. Maybe it was just as well. He was crouching shakily, reaching slowly for his guns.

Time to end it. To put George Harvard Desoto out of his misery. Outside the backup was slamming hard on the door and the hinges were starting to budge.

I reached for my Beretta.

I pulled the trigger.

Hades jumped, threw his head back, cried out. Blood splattered hard on the window over the auditorium. I pulled it again. Hades cried out. He stumbled backwards. I pulled the trigger one final time and he tumbled over the monitor and through the huge window, falling in a shower of glass to the forest of seats below.

Slowly, almost unthinkingly, I climbed up on to the monitors so that I stood over the window, the auditorium spread out below me like a weird relief map. Hades lay like a dead mug in a patch of shattered seats, a huge puddle of blood spreading beneath him. To my horror, I realised that he was still alive. And still conscious. I pointed my Beretta at him.

"You can't win, Max," he cried out, his voice sounding strained and weak. As he spoke a huge clot of blood spilled from out of his swollen mouth and spilled down his cheek. "It's too big. Too big. They'll find you Max, and they'll finish you."

I prepared to pull the trigger.

Hades was reaching for something from his back, beneath the trench-coat. When I saw what he dragged out, sudden panic rushed through me in a harsh green wave. A long black cable, every bit as threatening as a cobra. A detonator.

"Twelve pounds of plastic," Hades cried up, and I suddenly realised that he was smiling. A horrible, bloody last laugh. I'd take that smile to my grave. "Little contingency plan. I'd rather this to what he'd do to me."

Now he was cackling wildly.

"See you in hell, Payne!" he roared, and flicked the detonator switch.

Suddenly the auditorium was rushing up to meet me in a horrible heat wave, and my world fell into blackness.

To be continued…