Note: I lied! This is not the ending! Actually, I divided the last chapter in two since it was a lot longer than expected, so you get the ending in chapter 17. Don't be mad at me, there wouldn't have been a lemon if this was the ending XD
Chapter 17 is almost done, it just needs to be proofread (yes, I do proofread sometimes), so you will have it tomorrow or in two days last limit.
Then I'm back to TSFMS :)
Turning around the bunker, Matt progressed slowly, careful never to face the entrance. Once close to it, he stepped over the two bodies on the ground and peeped inside. There was one man, back turned to him, that he could easily shoot from where he stood. Unfortunately, that one seemed to be speaking with another, that he didn't see, hidden by the corner of the corridor.
Shooting the first would alert of his presence and soon everyone in here would know about the threat. Maybe they would even shoot Mello, because Matt was absolutely sure that he was there, captive.
Matt was one hundred per cent positive that Mello wouldn't have, in the end, hidden like this, and more, disappeared. His gut told him so. Ok, he had done things to anger Mello, but still, the blond loved him. Even upset, he wouldn't have gone so far, seeing that Matt was on his tracks. He would have stopped at some point and talked to him.
It was only logical that Mello had been abducted at the hospital and that, since he was here, he was retained against his will. Matt wasn't crazy, he wouldn't kill all of these people just to get to Mello if these were under his orders, that would be pure suicide. Well, Matt still thought it was, but it was for a good reason. Right?
There were plenty of ways to go with this. Matt could throw a grenade and the way would be cleared, or he could go there and wipe everyone with his automatic on his way, but there was always a slight chance that Mello got caught in the fire. That wasn't something acceptable. Matt needed a slow and silent progression.
Picking a small rock, he threw it inside of the cement corridor, as far as he could in the direction of the man whose back he could see from where he stood. He didn't touch the man for he was too far, but the ricochet that clattered on the wall next to the man before falling on the ground was enough to catch attention from both men. The first turned around while the second came in sight to have a look at where the rock came from, none of them being able to reach their guns and aim at the fiery red tuft of hair they saw in the distance. They both fell dead on the ground long before that.
No one else seemed to be with the two men so Matt decided it was safe to enter the bunker.
He walked carefully, step by step, trying to catch every single noise coming from the inside: subdued voices, glass ringing, belly laughters... nothing threatening at that point. The corridor was empty. The place was very well hidden and didn't look like a major hideout so it was only logical that there weren't hundred of men guarding it, after all. Which helped a lot in Matt's plans. He may have been wearing a bulletproof vest under his furry sleeveless one, but that didn't mean he wanted to test the garment's solidity.
Reaching a door that most likely led to the room where the sound came from, Matt peeped through the keyhole.
There were probably a dozen men in there, not more, playing cards and drinking. Some were inebriated enough to be easy targets, so that would be a piece of cake, really, Matt thought.
He opened the door slightly after readying the pepper grenade in his hand, and had it rolling on the floor and the gas invading the room before anyone finally noticed that the door had been opened. Unable to shoot at sight while crying their eyes out and violent fits of coughing, bullets began to fuse from every direction. Matt had already stepped aside, well hidden behind the wall, out of reach, while the henchmen were shooting blindly, bullets not lost for everyone.
The crossfire finally died down for a few seconds, seconds that Matt took to fire with his automatic, wiping the remaining men away, careful to keep his eyes goggled and his collar over his mouth and nose. The calm didn't last though. A door on the other side of the room opened violently, falling off its hinges, revealing a crew way more numerous than what this room had originally contained. They had waited for the gunshots to end after hearing of the first salvo, not wanting to risk being caught in, and were now hurrying inside, ready to kill the freaks that were now using an auto-loader, gun that revealed that the invaders were not from this gang. They didn't hold any automatic here at the moment. Little did they know that Matt was alone. Who'd be crazy enough to do that?
Matt kept on shooting, praying for Mello not to appear in his line of sight, men falling one after the other.
He barely stopped for a split second when he felt a bullet tear into his skin, the wound not serious enough to alter his capacities, but soon there was no one to shoot anymore. He smirked, stroking the metal in his hand. That baby was amazing. He could understand Mello's fondness for things alike, now.
Crossing the room, he made his steps silent, reaching for the opposite door. The next room was empty, as expected, and there was nothing beyond. Mentally calculating the space of the two rooms, Matt deduced that there wasn't anything left to visit here, so he went back on his tracks.
He suddenly stopped when, avoiding a corpse on the wooden floor, his mind registered that there was actually a wooden floor in this room only. Why have wood in a bunker?
Concentrated, he walked around the room, making his feet resound on the floor, pushing bodies to cover the whole space with his search. Bingo. An empty knock resounded under his sole.
Bending, he pushed on the wood to test its resistance. The surface moved slightly under his fingers. Tentatively pressing all over the spot, one of the planks gave in, turning upside down to reveal a knob. Matt grabbed it and pulled, revealing a stairway.
Unfortunately, it didn't take a genius to understand that the dust and cobwebs were a good indicator that this stairway hadn't been used in months, if not years. It was only a typical bunker lower ground, obviously.
Which meant that Mello wasn't here.
Matt could feel the tears stinging his eyes. He was missing his boyfriend so much, and here he was, unable to find him...
Desperate, the redhead began to rummage in the dead men's pockets for any clue that would locate Mello. He didn't leave a single garment unexplored, even going as far as to search under the couch cushions, checking every single cell phone he could find on the men, but nothing. No information about Mello, no single beginning of a hint.
Matt broke down. He wanted to grip at his sanity, because he wasn't close to stopping his search for the one he loved, but he was losing it. The pain was unbearable, and maybe Mello was dead by now. Thoughts mingled and blurred in his mind, to the point nothing was coherent anymore. The fatigue didn't help either, and he lost track of time, knelt on the floor, eyes in the vague.
He suddenly jumped on his feet. There was noise coming from the outside, and soon shouts rose. Ross. It was Ross' voice barking orders after discovering the bodies in front of the bunker. Damn, how long had he stayed here like this?
Matt panicked. He was trapped in here. The only way out was now probably surrounded by Ross' men, and he didn't stand a chance at shooting and trying to run away in the open at the same time. Bulletproof vest or not, he wouldn't make it to his car on time.
Focusing, he managed to distinguish seven different voices. That didn't mean they were seven, but that was probably not far from the truth. A larger crew would surely make a lot more noise.
Brain in action, Matt dived to the floor just in front of the first door, hiding his head under one of the corpses lying here, playing dead.
Sounds of steps approached, stopping right next to him.
"No one alive here." one man said; Ross, who had obviously been following, grunting in response.
The whole group of men were in his steps and they entered, one pushing him and other bodies with a foot, another walking on his hand heavily. Matt refrained a whimper when he felt two of his left hand's fingers break under the boot sole.
They all went to check the other room. Matt jumped on his feet like a chased rabbit and exited the room, slamming the door closed before anyone could reach it, blocking it with his first automatic across the handle. He had a second one anyway, and it wasn't the time to look around for something else long enough to fit in the handle anyway, so he'd give up the gun quite happily if it meant he could make it out alive.
Ross' henchmen tried to shoot the handle but Matt was already almost at the exit. He ran as fast as he could along the corridor but as his face finally met the sun outside, a searing pain shot through his hip, telling him that not all the men had been inside. His hip was bleeding but the bullet had only tore his jeans and scrapped the skin.
He shot back quickly, trying to ignore the sharp burning on his side. The cry and muffled sound of the man falling in the dead leaves told Matt he had aimed perfectly, but soon the full blow of shots through his bulletproof vest sent him to the ground.
He wasn't dead, not even hurt, but damn was it painful! He would probably get bruised all over.
Breathing with difficulty, the air almost knocked off his lungs by the shots, he didn't even think when he saw a shadow bend over him. He grabbed the knife in his boot and slashed the air until his blade finally hit something. Blood splashed his face before the weight of a body fell on him. Matt could feel the taste of the liquid in his mouth, and he almost threw up.
It was becoming very difficult to breathe with that dead weight on him. Wiggling, he finally managed to free himself, and stood up, wary. He glanced at the man he had just killed, who was emptying from his blood, his throat open. Nothing came his way so it was probably safe now.
Well, except for Ross and his men still trying to pass the door. Luckily, you don't break a thick steel door so easily.
But you can, if you hound for it long enough... The door was making a sound that obviously meant it would give in very soon under the several shots and kicks.
It wasn't easy to proceed with two fingers broken, but Matt managed to stir other grenades from his belt. Real grenades this time. The door had given in, considering the yelling that was approaching. Looping his three valid fingers in the grenades' rings, he unsecured them quickly one after the other, throwing them one by one in the corridor, as hard as he could.
Then he ran away to his car.
He hadn't made it to where he was parked already but the explosions in his back gave no hope for Ross and his men. The bunker was small, they were trapped between cement walls, there was no escape from the blows he could feel behind him, his hands covering his ears.
When everything became silent again, he turned around. There was smoke, undetermined pieces of whatever rising in the air and falling back down, leaves flying, catching on fire before just disappearing, consummated before they even reached the ground again, and the smell of charred everything: wood, steel, cement, flesh... and this blood taste still lingering on Matt's tongue, that was all of a sudden not that disgusting, probably good, even.
The place was way more luxurious than the bunker. Not that it was surprising, it was Rod Ross', the Mafia boss' place, after all.
The building itself was crappy, and in the crappiest area of the city. You don't locate an illegal organisation's hideout in the middle of a cosy neighbourhood, do you?
But the single view Matt had been able to get from the lobby, as someone entered, gave him a pretty good idea of Gordon's kitsch taste of decoration. Kitsch but expensive.
From where he stood, drowning in the shadows in an alley nearby, he spied on the movements around the place.
He had driven here straight away after blowing up the bunker.
Ross not coming back, the rest of his men would begin to search for him, and Matt wasn't taking a chance at being tracked down.
When everything became calm, no comings and goings anymore, Matt wired the place.
Slowly, carefully, making sure to place the handmade explosives at every strategic spot. He climbed gutters, reached balconies, not a single corner was left uncovered by his calculations. His left hand was numb to the pain at that point, swollen and blue, but he would take care of that later.
Satisfied, he unrolled the bunch of wires unto a safe area, where the blow couldn't reach.
Really, things shouldn't be that easy, Matt thought. Who knows what a madman could do, having access so effortlessly to such means of action? He smirked to himself. Right now, it was lucky for him it had been that easy, actually.
He pushed the button of the remote in his hand, and watched as the smallest explosions started at the base, setting the building on fire. First step, no escape possible. Unless you want to jump by the window and kill yourself anyway.
Soon, bigger ones attacked the foundations, but the mansion didn't even have time to collapse on itself that the upper floors exploded in pieces.
Maybe Matt had been a bit heavy-handed...
Oh well... Matt thought, flames reflecting in his eyes. From where he stood, it was a bit strange, looking at such a fire burning and being too far to really feel the heat.
There were a lot of people in there, obviously. It was like watching a movie, one that would be ending real bad for the actors. They were screaming, burning in the fire, crushed under the building... but there was no coming out of this alive. Matt had made sure of it in the way he had the place wired. Anyone managing to escape the burning building, which was already very unlikely, would be trapped in the smaller explosions now blowing again at the base, the final of Matt's firework.
Mello would have liked that...
On his way back to Manchester, Matt could feel himself falling asleep on the stirring wheel. Forced to stop in a gas station along the fastlane, he slid with difficulty out of his car, threw his blood stained vest on the passenger's seat, cleaning his face the best he could, looking in the rearview mirror, before getting in. No need to raise suspicion.
Munching on some tasteless food from the convenient store next to the station, Matt yawned almost continuously, but not even the energy drink he got to help the awful sloppy sandwich down his throat managed to keep his eyes open.
Relinquishing, he made it to the backseat and fell asleep almost immediately.
When he woke up, it was dark, and it took him several seconds to remember what he was doing here.
Recovering his senses, he exited the car, stirring to erase the ache from the uncomfortable seat in his back. He was quickly reminded of his several injuries, that, if not threatening for his health, were still very painful, especially his broken fingers. His hand looked awful.
Matt went back to the convenient store to grab some coffee at the counter. The guy behind didn't spare him more of a look than the first time.
Back in his car, Matt glanced at the clock: he had slept for five hours in a row. That was not really surprising, he hadn't gotten much sleep lately.
Matt felt a lump form in his throat when he parked in front of the apartment complex in Manchester.
Now, after all he had done, the only feelings left were despair and pain. The physical pain was nothing compared to the excruciating breaking of his heart. What would he do now? Where to search for Mello?
If he had been in the bunker, he hadn't stayed there, obviously, so where was he? Where?
Resting his back against the cold metal of the elevator's wall, the redhead was crying softly. All energy had left him. He was tired. Tired of driving all over the country, tired of making plans, of blowing things out, tired of being without Mello. The part of him that wanted to keep searching was obviously giving up, too...
Dragging his feet, he exited the cubicle and entered the apartment.
His mind was only beginning to process that the door wasn't even locked, although he had made sure he always locked it before leaving, that he spotted a blond head jutting out of the couch's back, and Mello jumping to his feet at the sound of the door.