Chapter 66
Seeing is Believing
{He's still in there. Holed himself up like a damn mole. No sign of Myers.}
Pressing the button on the small radio in his ear, James frowned. "How many are down?"
{Seven are confirmed dead and another looks dead further in the door. He's got himself a brilliant placement.}
James tried not to growl in irritation. He had never planned on actually being in charge. Myers had chosen him to lead the forces if something went down, but he thought Myers' was strong enough to keep going. But reports were coming in that Myers' was unconscious or even dead in that room. "Okay, okay, try one more time to get in. If that doesn't work, we wait him up. He doesn't have infinite ammo."
{Yes, sir. Also, one of the men seems to have got a shot in. We don't know where it hit though.}
"Good, that means he is bleeding. It'll be easier to wait." James switched over the channels on his radio. "Beta Team, do you have any sightings?"
{That's a negative. If Casey has a team with him with can't see them.}
"I can't believe he came here on his own. Keep watching. They are probably waiting for the right time." James clicked off the radio and spun around in his chair with a sigh. Everything was going to shit, that much was for sure. Where in the name of God were those other two?
Sitting in the main reception area with three other men, James stood up and stretched his arms. Letting out a yawn, a small red hole suddenly appeared in the middle of his head. As he slumped to the floor, two more men were dispatched with easily as four black-suited men burst through the door. Before the final man could react he was bundled to the floor, one foot pressing into his back.
With his hands behind his back, Fisk walked into the reception area, flanked by Detrikov. He stepped over to the man and knelt down. "Where is Gerald Myers?"
"…Screw you…" The man spat.
"Fair enough." Fisk clicked his fingers and a bullet was sent through the man's head. Standing up straight, Fisk turned around to where twelve of his men stood. "There are twelve floors. I want one man for each floor. Cray, you are with me and Detrikov. We are going to find Gerald Myers." A younger man nodded. "I want any hostiles dealt with. If they surrender, hand-cuff them and bring them down here."
"The elevator appears to be… gone." Detrikov called out as the doors opened to the elevator shaft.
Fisk didn't seem to worried. "Okay. We'll all go up the stairs, with Detrikov, Cray and I at the back. Get into each floor as we ascend. Go now."
XXX
While Myers' men were good, they weren't nearly as good as Fisk's men. As each men exited on a floor, they expertly progressed through the floor, getting rid of any men in their way. After all hostiles were dealt with, they started searching each floor for anything particularly useful. Soon, it was only Detrikov, Cray and Fisk walking up the stairs.
"If you find Myers, do not engage." Fisk said to Cray. "Contact us."
"Yes sir." Cray nodded.
"Good. Otherwise, do what needs to be done." Fisk suddenly winced as something spat past his face as they reached the final opening. A thin line of blood appeared on Fisk's cheek. "That was a foolish risk." Fisk sighed. "Cray, if you would."
Nodding, Cray crouched down and rolled across the doorway, letting off a shot. The shot hit true, hitting a man waiting for them. Cray got back to his feet and Fisk nodded at him.
"Good work." Fisk took a step forward when Detrikov stopped him. "Yes?"
"Your face." Detrikov said quietly.
Looking slightly confused, Fisk raised a hand to where his cheek had been cut by the close bullet. It was still there. "I am not healing." Fisk said, his fingers sweeping across the wound in his cheek.
"Why not?" Detrikov asked.
"Well, there is only one reason I can think of. The task has been completed." Fisk's mouth twitched. "It appears as if Gerald Myers is gone from this world. Nicholas has succeeded." Fisk paused for a moment before pointing at the door. "Go. Find Nicholas."
XXX
It was obvious where Nick was holed up.
Eight people were lying limp outside the door, faces blank and bloody. Each had one or two holes in the chest and each had fallen backwards, forming a natural barrier to the door.
"Is this his work?" Detrikov walked forward to get a closer look at the bodies.
"Unless Myers' men have a habit of killing their own men." Fisk said before walking over to the door. "Cray, check the other rooms." With a quick nod, the young man disappeared down the corridor. Fisk leaned towards the door and gave it three knocks.
After a few seconds, a voice called out. "You… you think knocking is going let you get out free? J-Just come through that door… I dare you… He's dead! You have no use anymore. Go back to whatever family you have."
"Nicholas." Fisk called through the door. "Nicholas, it is Gregory."
"…Fisk…?" Nick's voice lost its bravado. "What're you doing here?"
"Coming for you. Can I come in?" Fisk asked.
"Course… mind your step, there's another body right outside the door. He got closer than I wanted."
Fisk opened the door wide and quickly took in the room. One body was at his feet, his face all but missing. Another body lay on his side near the other side of the room. Finally, slumped against the wall with the window above his head was Nick. He held his pistol in one hand, and his other arm hung limp. His face was pale and his body shaking. Fisk immediately stepped into the room, kneeling down next to Nick. "Are you okay?" Fisk asked.
"Fine… of sorts…" Nick replied vaguely.
"It looks to be a bullet wound to the shoulder." Detrikov reported to Fisk, moving Nick's hand. "Hmm… it's likely shattered the shoulder. It'll need some patching but he isn't in any immediate danger."
"Huh… t-that'd be why I can't feel my arm." Nick managed a weak smile. "So… I guess I can stop shooting people now, correct?"
"Yes." Fisk nodded. "Is Myers…?"
"He's here." Detrikov said to Fisk.
"Dead?"
"Yes."
Fisk grunted slightly before standing up. He seemed to be considering something before pacing back and forth in the room.
"You look antsy…" Nick muttered, trying to keep his eyes open. "Something wrong?"
"No. No, far from it." Fisk stopped pacing and sighed. "I merely wonder whether I will keep on seeing her… keep seeing Elena…"
Detrikov looked at Fisk with an odd look, before reaching into his jacket. "Are you…?"
"Hm… I think so. I want to see Gerald with my own eyes. After everything he has done…" Fisk took a breath and stood in front of Detrikov. "Cut the stitches."
"Are you certain?" Detrikov asked. He knew first-hand how bad Fisk was when he saw Elena's death in his mind over and over again.
"Yes." Fisk nodded. "I will not be satisfied until I see him myself."
Trying to hide a relieved smile, Detrikov pulled out a pair of small silver scissors. "Stay still." He said, before carefully snipping each of the stitches. Fisk barely winced as he slowly pulled out the wire that had held his eyes together. "Okay, they're gone."
Taking a deep breath, Fisk carefully and slowly opened his eyes for the first time in over ten years. He rapidly blinked as light invaded his eyes and he covered them with a hand, his face distorting into a wince.
"Gregory…" Detrikov asked carefully, placing a hand on Fisk's shoulder.
"I am…" Fisk opened his eyes again and stared at Detrikov with slightly watery eyes. "I am fine…" Fisk almost sounded shocked. "I cannot see her, Vladimir."
"That's good…" Detrikov smiled. "That's brilliant."
Fisk turned slowly in a circle, taking the apartment, the colours, the way the light shined on the walls, the clean windows, even the way the blood spread on Nick's shoulder. Despite the fact that he had seen these things before, it had been so long that it was almost as if it was his first time seeing such things. Then Fisk's gaze turned to Myers.
Myers had not aged well in the ten years since Fisk had seen him. He still wore the wire rimmed glasses, but his hair had receded back into his skull, becoming wispy and starting to grey. Wrinkles extended from his mouth and eyes, eyes which were now lifeless. Unlike some people, where they looked like they were sleeping, even if he didn't have the hole in his head Myers just looked dead.
"How sad it is that you had to go this way, Gerald." Fisk muttered. He noticed that when he blinked, small pinpricks on lights still invaded his vision. That was due to the fact that the stitches had left tiny holes in his eyelids, which would never heal since eyelids didn't heal like normal. "You had a chance to simply be a survivor. To go on living. Instead you decide to go and do this. To fight against Death. I wish I knew your motives, but you never gave us a chance to talk. Instead, you murder innocents like Miles, you play mind games, and you destroy people's minds. I will never know what drove you, and in some ways, I almost don't want to know." Fisk continued to stare at the corpse before the door opened and in came a panting Cray.
"Sir… sir, you'll want to see this…" Cray took a deep breath and actually looked slightly sick. "It's… it's something I can't explain, sir… It's so… just… come and look, please..." Cray paused slightly as Fisk connected eyes with him but didn't ask any questions. It wasn't his place.
"Lead me." Fisk said simply before turning to Nick. "Nick, come with us. We can't leave you alone for fear that you will collapse."
"Fair enough…" Nick grunted as he climbed to his feet. "It's not actually that bad once you get used to the fact that you can't feel your arm." Nick weakly chuckled before glancing quickly at one of the doors. As he walked past Myers, he quickly put a note down on his chest that he had written while defending himself and followed Fisk outside.
A/N: - Thanks to PrincezzShell101, DARKWOLF180, and Bookreader2010 for your reviews! Gerald is gone, but this story ain't over 'till the fat lady sings, and Chloe isn't properly pregnant nor singing yet XD
Next chapter is going to be a fun one… buuuut, y'all have to wait! I am going to be taking a week's break to focus solely on my original stories (More specifically Isla Do Maldito, which I'm probably going to start writing soon). So, I'll see you in a week's time with a great chapter.
'Till then!