Chapter 11 – Broken minds

Miguel walked around the shattered interior room, the firemen moving on to the next flaming building. The entire area had been set alight. He strolled around, the scene of destruction too much to take. Lucie had collapsed on the floor, tears streaming down her hardened face. A fire-fight had clearly taken place, empty bullet casings lining the floor. Dead Yakuza, dead Roses, dead spot. Miguel checked the interrogation room. There was no sign of Yen or Conway.

"I'm sorry" Miguel offered, Lucie tearfully approaching him. Her father led on the floor, a bullet hole through his skull. Leroy led next to him, his knuckles thick with dried blood. His chest was riddled with tiny holes, the edges singed by the rampant flames.

"Looks like Yen and Conway escaped" said Miguel, scanning the room again. The bodies of many led in the room. The firemen had almost been tempted to let the fire burn after witnessing the sheer amount of death in the shop, but had done there job properly once Miguel had revealed his submachine gun.

"Come on, let's go" said Miguel, tired of the misery the last few days had brought. He began to turn, Lucie grabbing Miguel's arm.

"Wait, look at that" she said, pointing down at the body of her father. A glimmering object could be seen in his palm, it was covered in blackened ash. She stooped down, picking up the metal object carefully, tearful of moving her father's body.

"It's a watch" she proclaimed. "A golden watch"

"Shit…" cursed Miguel. "That's Leone's watch. Trenlock threw it at Madden when he was deserted in the woodlands"

"Cursed abomination" she muttered, handing it to Miguel. "Perhaps it should signify the death of a Madden too."

"But this is Yakuza work" said Miguel, wiping the watch before pocketing it.

"They are the same thing. Madden can make them do whatever he wants. He's gone back to Liberty today, we must follow."

"Agreed" said Miguel thoughtfully, "but we need time to rest and I need to get Roxy. We'll head back to my hotel first, plan our next move from there…"

x

Breaking out of the ring of pedestrians, the Infernus headed towards the hotel in East Langdon. The district was set on the other side of the city. It was dark by the time the Infernus had broken through the rush hour traffic, busy commuters eager to get home to their families. Miguel and Lucie barely spoke on the way, both of them deep in thought. Miguel toured the streets of Langdon, the empty, shops lining the streets. Franco had chosen a real isolated spot in the middle of the commercial centre.

Miguel parked the car in the adjacent lot across the road from the hotel entrance. He got out; stretching his legs as if he'd had a normal day at work. The couple crossed the road, the empty streets quiet as the evening settled in. Miguel pushed open the door, the lobby in disarray. Attendants were talking to policemen as visitors were huddled together, sat on chairs drinking coffee. The receptionist, an old, grey haired woman, spotted Miguel and Lucie standing in the doorway, her hand reaching for the long, metal shaft under the desk.

"Get out of my hotel!" she shouted, brandishing the shotgun. The police officers jumped, the visitors stunned.

"What?" exclaimed Miguel, bewildered by the outburst.

"Get of my hotel! You think you can bring your heavies here? Gang wars aren't welcome Pedro" she said, flailing the shotgun.

"Shit! Roxy!" cursed Miguel, launching into sprint. One of the officers grabbed him, pinning him back.

"Listen sir, I think you'd better come with his…"

CRACK!

Miguel's head flung forward, his forehead smashing into the officer's nose. The man fell back, blood oozing down his face as Miguel grabbed the man's holstered pistol. Lucie drew hers as the other officers snatched theirs.

"Freeze motherfuckers…"

Lucie fired, her shot piercing through the man's flak jacket. Miguel pointed his at the woman, her shotgun unwieldy in her hands.

"Just put it down" he said coolly, the woman dropping the heavy weapon. "Now everybody listen. Stay here and don't move."

Miguel sprinted for the stairs, Lucie hot on his tail. He climbed at the speed of light, his powerful muscles hauling his body up the stories. Lucie pleaded for Miguel to wait, her body tiring as they ran. He'd reached the fifth floor, the corridors lying in a mess. He charged at his hotel room, the door hanging off its hinges. Bursting in, the scene hit him like a freight train; the broken furniture, the smashed bottles, the shattered bullet casings, the dead Yakuza. Least she took some down with her he thought. He ran around the room, scanning for any sign of her. Lucie caught up, startled by the destruction.

"Shit…"

Miguel stood in the centre of the room, head bowed, and hands on hips. How could he have so stupid? He breathed heavily, exhaling as if to control his anger. Lucie ran up to him, shaking the exhausted body. Miguel fell to his knees, breaking down on the floor, lying in shattered glass. He held his head in his hands, the frightened Lucie kneeling to comfort the man. They laid there for hours, thinking about the loved ones they'd lost…