"Where'd you get the station wagon?" Corey asked as Tony pulled up in a tan colored Ford with tacky wood siding. He narrowed his eyes as she struggled to scanned his newly acquired vehicle under the flickering street lamp. He scoffed before answering. "Where do you think?" She stiffened for a moment, probably still unused to the idea of preforming illegal activities. They were about to commit mass murder tonight, murder of Jacket proportions, and still she was acting like a damn civilian. Tony had never felt like an average jack-off so he couldnt even comprehend her reservations, even if he wanted to.
Corey looked around nervously, before opening the back door and throwing in a duffel bag of tools. He grimaced under his mask, as he looked back at the bag from the rear view mirror. She had asserted herself as the planner for their upcoming massacre. Tony had felt that he owed it to her, and had done his best to play along. He regretted it immediately. She had become hyper sensitive to any criticism or tweak to her plan, and would go on and on over every little detail of the operation to explain her reasoning.
Tony could now just grit his teeth at how over complicated and idiotic it all had become. Like something out of a James Bond flick, but far less entertaining, Corey had spent the entire day planning, scouting, questioning, even staking out the location of their hit, studying for patterns, and anything else to delay them from getting to the bloodshed. Tony was all but tuned out of the planning process at this point, he didnt care how they did it, as long as they got into a building with some dirtbags. His fists would do the rest.
Corey sat in the front passenger seat and slammed the door shut. Tony hit the gas, pulling out in front of some idiot who blared his horn at them as they sped off. "Slow down Tony. We dont want to get a ticket in a stolen vehicle…" Corey grumbled as Tony weaved through traffic. "Relax, I'm a fucking pro at this." Tony said confidently, tailgating the car in front of him until he eventually passed and cut the driver off, raising a middle finger to the back window as the driver blared away on his little horn.
Corey scrambled to get her seat belt on as Tony smiled smugly from under his mask. She brushed the hair from her eyes and watched him curiously for a moment, her zebra mask absent from her face. He was clad head to toe in his vigilante gear, his blood stained mask, boots, a tight fitting black t shirt, cargo pants, with one new addition, a military combat vest.
Corey studied it carefully for a moment before speaking. "That looks like the vests you wore back in Hawaii." Corey said thoughtfully, no doubt vividly recalling their military "glory" days. Tony shrugged. "Thats because it is the vest I wore in Hawaii." He said. She blinked and stared at him, probably thinking of new and exciting questions to ask him, on how he had stole his military vest out from under Uncle Sam's nose, but he didnt have the patience for twenty questions right now.
Tony ignored Corey. He was busy thinking violent, hateful thoughts. He clenched his fingers around the steering wheel and rocked himself back and forth, as he tried to tap into the primal passions that had all but overwhelmed him the last time they were this close to the action. He grit his teeth, attempting to force his violent rage back to the surface, but something was in the way, blocking him from it, like a cinder block resting on his heart.
He cursed himself under his breath through clenched teeth, as Corey fidgeted in the back. Her ass was practically resting on his shoulder as she rooted around in her bag for her zebra mask. She nearly fell to the floor of the station wagon as Tony made a tight turn, his mind still consumed by his racing thoughts.
Tony winced, deep down he knew why he was having trouble immersing himself into his rage. He had quit on himself. It was only for a moment, a moment of weakness, but that was all it took to put a chink in his mental armor. A hole, a flaw… Tony couldnt afford any flaws. In no way did he doubt his physical prowess, he was still the same killing machine he was before, but he had revealed something horrible. Deep down there was something weak, something wretched and worse… something human inside of him. He felt honest-to-god regret for killing that tattooed low life's skull. Regret… regret was the most pointless, worthless emotion somebody could ever entertain. One of the few lessons his old man had taught him, before walking out on him and his mom, was how regret could destroy a man. Tony was not his father, he refused to be anything like that fucking prick.
Tony ground his teeth. After storming off, leaving his mask behind in Corey's apartment, after saying everything he could to hurt her, he experienced just how lost he was without this part of his life. He wondered the streets, worked out at the gym, lurked in the back alleys like he did before connecting with Corey, but it was all fucking pointless. Tony could sense it immediately. There was no going back to his old life. What he had with Corey, what he did to Conrad and those junky's, it was no longer a primal urge, it was a need, a bodily function. He was as addicted as the worthless junkies he had beaten to a pulp. Addicted to the violence, the adrenaline, and the feeling of godhood that he felt in the midst of the blood and carnage.
The sounds of blaring horns and Corey's gasps woke Tony from his introspection. He finished passing the car in front of him, before swerving back into his lane, nearly slamming head long into oncoming traffic. The driver behind him slammed on his breaks to avoid crashing into them.
Corey smacked her fist against his shoulder. "What the hell are you doing? You get us into an accident we'll be arrested before we even start!" She said with a huff. Tony smirked. "Quit your bitching, you worry to much." He said. She crossed her arms and looked back ahead at the road, as he continued to race to their destination.
There was an awkward silence in the air, as Corey fidgeted with her hair and mask in the sun visor mirror. "Do you remember the plan?" She finally asked. Tony rolled his eyes as he recollected the plan. "Yea yea yea, we break the door down, fuck up anyone who gets in our way, take the elevator to the top, then… we do that Octopussy bullshit you thought up." He said, shaking his head. Corey huffed. "Its not bullshit, its smart… we use the crowbars to open the service hatch on top of the elevator and pry open the door to the top floor, its the quickest way." She said defensively.
Tony growled under his breath. "Why cant we just lift the elevator key off of one of his bodyguards?" He asked, racking his mind to remember if he had already asked this before. "Because, we dont know if any of them have a key." Corey said calmly, though the irritation behind her voice was clear. He shrugged indignantly. "And we cant check the bodies?" He asked. She shook her head in frustration. "We've been over this, we wont have time." She said.
Tony narrowed his eyes. "You just want to go through the elevator shaft because its "cool" dont you?" He sneered. She groaned in aggravation. "We have to move fast, keep hitting them before they call for reinforcements… this wont be like last time, these guys are the real deal…" She said. Tony shrugged, giving up making getting through Corey's mental gymnastics. Corey fidgeted with her hands for a moment before adding "And yes, it will be very cool…"
Tony turned his head back to fully face the road. She was right about one thing, they werent going after petty drug dealers and junkies this time. They were going all in, with no fucking Darius to slow them down. From now on Tony's fists would let loose, with no reservation, no concern for human life. He will bathe in the loss of human life tonight. He'll wear their blood like badges of honor. This time, there would be worthy prey for the mighty hunter, no more morsels. Corey wanted him to study, and know his prey, but she couldnt understand. He didnt know the men he was about to murder, and he didnt want to. He only knew that he hated them, and that hatred made him strong.
Tony felt a sharp pang of anxiety gnaw at his heart as the dilapidated high rise apartment building loomed into view. Corey, likewise, grew silent as she looked up at the building with the same amount of reverence as she would to the face of god.
Tony stopped along the side of the street, near the alley at the rear of the building and waited. Up top, in the pent house suite, they were going to cut the head from the snake, by wasting that curly haired bastard, Roman. The mob boss didnt know it yet, but he was already dead. Plotting and scheming up in his big pent house suite, and for what? All of Roman's plots and plans will be for nothing. His entire life reduced to Tony's next victim.
Tony had a feeling about Roman from the first time he looked down at his photo. Something about the stern discipline in Roman's eyes, and the hard line his mouth made, rubbed Tony the wrong way. He was a stuck up control freak, the all business type, it was written all over his face, his carefully expressionless face. What a fucking joke, he couldnt make it anymore obvious to someone primal like Tony. He knew who Roman was, and what he was about, the moment he laid eyes on his photo. Some professional Roman would turn out to be.
Tony hoped Roman's muscle, Viktor, would put up more of a fight then the last one did. That cowering, whimpering Conrad, hiding behind a woman… the more he thought about it, the more he was glad he killed him. Still, Tony wasnt doing this to terrorize weaklings and cowards, he could just go walk the streets at night for that. Killing Conrad while he begged, didnt give Tony satisfaction. If he had killed that pasty fat fuck drug dealer, while he whimpered on the ground, it wouldnt have meant a damn thing. They gave up. Victory couldnt be given, it had to be taken.
Tony needed them to fight back. If the prey didnt struggle, nothing would be gained. There was no glory in killing a broken man. From now on, every kill, he would earn. He was coming for Russian mobsters with only his bare fists, and they had better arm themselves. Every kill will be a triumph, every victim demonstration of his superiority.
"Down the alley, through the fire exit door." Corey said, stating the painfully obvious. Tony's entire body flexed and tightened. "Enough talk, lets get on with this!" He said suddenly, reaching his arm out to open the door. "Wait." Corey hissed. His body trembled in pent up rage. He turned to Corey, his eyes burning with anger. "What!?" He snarled. Corey ignored Tony, which pissed him off even further. She leaned foreword, looking around him, scanning the building and the tenant parking lot thoroughly.
Tony growled, and followed her gaze. He didnt see anything out of the ordinary, but the tense, humorless look in her eyes was enough to put Tony on edge. "Well?" Tony asked. Corey finally met his agitated gaze, her eyes deep with concern. "There are more cars here then before… a lot more." She muttered. Tony snarled and glanced at the parking lot a second time. He couldnt deny, there was a lot of high end luxury and sports cars illegally parked to make room in the already full lot.
Corey just stared at the black Mercedes Benz. "His car is here… but he brought friends, a lot of friends…" She said sullenly. Tony glared at Corey. "I thought you were being careful!" He snarled. She adamantly shook her head. "I was. I didnt think anyone noticed me, they dont know who I am… right?" She said with an airy voice, as if unconvinced herself she wasnt the one who tipped them off.
Tony shrugged his shoulders and threw his hands to the sides obstinately. "We just get a higher body count, thats all." Tony said in a low growling voice. Corey shook her head. "No it changes everything, drive around to the front." She said, half mumbling her words. "What? Why?" He asked defiantly. "Just do it Tony, common…" Corey said insistently. Tony ground his teeth in anger, she was losing her nerve already.
Tony drove around the weathered high rise, keeping his vehicle at a low speed. Tony's body tensed, as he spotted a man in front of the building, leaning against the front wall just to the side of the door. He wore a white suit, typical to the Russian mob, and was smoking a cigarette. The bored, pissed off look in his eye told Tony he had been watching the streets for awhile now. Tony's eyes narrowed again as his body bristled with aggressive energy. "They left a guard." He said in a low dangerous voice.
Tony drove past the front of the building, maintaining his slow speed. The mob sentinel watched their car as they drove past. Corey nodded, her eyes still glued to the building. "Did you see how many guys were in the lobby?" Corey said, her voice buzzing with tension. Tony blinked and shook his head. "What? No, I only saw the guy in the front." He admitted. "I saw three or more guys with baseball bats, just waiting around…" Corey said grimly. Tony stopped the car at the stop light and pondered this. "So they know we're coming… doesnt change a thing." Tony said firmly. "It changes everything, we didnt plan for this many…" Corey said in a calm voice, apparently trying to hide her obvious fear behind her cool cucumber routine.
Tony growled in frustration. So much for Corey's plan, one little set back and she was already throwing in the towel. That wasnt going to happen though, not on his watch. "You want new plan? Ok, here's my plan." He said stepping on the accelerator and whipping a sudden U turn. Corey's body stiffened as she threw a hand onto Tony's broad shoulder. "Tony, what are you doing?" Corey asked, doing her best to sound calm and collected as Tony drove back towards the front of the building. "What are you doing?!" She repeated, her fingers tightening around the fabric of his shirt. He ignored her. It was past the time for words, it was time for action.
Tony drove the car directly in front of the Roman's building, one of his front tires crossing over onto the sidewalk, stopping the vehicle within feet of the entrance, and the henchman guarding it. Tony threw open the car door and emerged with the intensity of a blood starved beast breaking free of its chain. He did not hesitate. He had stopped thinking as soon as he turned the car around. He let his adrenaline and his rage guide him.
Tony made a b line directly for the white clad sentinel, his head and shoulders hunched foreword, his fists tightly clenched. Tony didnt run, he walked, taking long, brisk steps towards his frightened prey. The sentinel had enough time to throw his cigarette away and scrambled to free his gun from his side holster, before the tiger masked monster was upon him.
Tony swung his arm back before throwing his fist foreword, behind it he sent all of his might, all of his pride and all of his hatred. His fist smashed through the sentinel's mouth, shooting the yellow stained teeth down the mobsters throat and shattering his jaw. The blow sent the mobsters head back into the wall behind him, crushing the mobsters skull in between Tony's fist and the hard concrete. The back of the mobsters head shattered and blood sprang out like red tendrils in all directions against the building's wall. The mobster collapsed, painting a red smear down the building with his blood drenched hair playing the part of a wet paintbrush.
Tony felt a fire ignite inside his body. His second kill, and he didnt even pause to look down at the blood on his hands. He threw open the door to the high rise building, like a gladiatorial champion, returning to his arena. The door burst open, nearly slamming against one of the mobsters guarding the front. The mobster blinked, his eyes wide as he leveled a double barreled shotgun towards Tony's chest. Tony's body reacted automatically, swinging his right in a vicious horizontal arc, catching the sawed off double barrels and effortlessly yanking it free of the mobsters hands. The mobster took a step back raising his hands to the side in surrender, as the other four goons guarding the front reception area, scrambled to attention, raising their odd assortment of weapons, a baseball bat, a metal pipe, a chain, and a switchblade knife.
Tony paused, they were all looking towards him with fear, but not of him himself, they were staring at the fucking gun in his hand, as if the hunk of metal and wood was more dangerous then the fist that held it. He swept his glare from the five men in front of him. He snorted in frustration before opening the break action, sending the shotgun shells sailing off to the side, before whipping the empty gun down against the ground, sending it bouncing and skittering against the far wall.
The mobster closest to him, who had held the gun just moments before, squinted his eyes in confusion. "What the fuck do you want?" The thug demanded. Tony answered with a lightning fast jab to the man's throat. His fist slammed the man's windpipe against the back of his neck. If Tony had taken a little step foreword, he had no doubt his fist would have crushed through his spine as well. The mobsters eyes nearly popped from his head and his mouth dropped open as he gasped futile through his crushed larynx.
As the dying gunman fell to the floor gagging on his last breath, the rest of the thugs spanned out around him, their faces dripping with vengeful intent. Tony's body shook with adrenaline as he threw hands down and out to his sides, fingers curled in hateful claws, as he lunged his head foreword, snarling in challenge at the men. As the mobsters swarmed, it was Tony who pushed the action, running to meet his assailants with blood drunk zeal.
The mobster with the knife swung blade wildly as Tony approached, trying to fend him off with the speed of his short blade. Tony's threw a powerful right punch, straight through the knife wielders flurry without taking so much as a scratch from the blade. Tony's fist smashed against the mobster's skull with the power of a jackhammer, killing the mobster instantly and spattering his blood across Tony's mask.
Tony didnt see the attacker coming up to his left as much as he felt him. Tony stepped out of the way of the bat, as the mobster wielding it swung it through the air, just passed Tony's face, shaking the rubber tiger mask as it sailed past. Tony grabbed the bat wielding mobster by the wrist and arm, throwing him with all of his strength, sending the mobster crashing against the attacker with the chain.
The two attackers slammed together before flopping onto the ground. The last standing attacker swung his lead pipe at Tony's head, his eyes bleeding with hostility as he cursed Tony in a mixture of Russian and English. Tony dodged each attack, stepping around him before swinging a brutal right hook, smashing his fist into the mobsters ribs like a wrecking ball. Tony's fist obliterated the mobsters ribs, driving the broken bones deep into the man's lungs. As the mobster crumpled to the floor, Tony relished the sight of the fight leaving the man's eyes.
Tony turned to the two mobsters rising to their feet. As the mobster with the chain struggled to orient himself from the violent impact he and the bat wielding mobster endured, his comrade dropped the bat, and struggled to free his snub .38 from its holster. Tony glowered down at the man in disgust, as he watched him pull the pistol free and whirl it around towards him. Tony simply reached his hand out and caught the mobsters wrist, stopping his arm dead in its tracks, before slamming his free hand against the mobsters elbow, hyper extending the arm back in a revolting angle. The chain wielding thug's knees wobbled in terror as his comrade screamed in agony. Tony wrapped his arms around the screaming man's head neck, tugging and jerking it violently. It took Tony three strong pulls from his arms, before he felt the thug's neck twist. The mobsters limbs spasmed against Tony's body briefly, the last transmission from his brain was little more then confused static.
Tony shoved the body of the mobster away, stalking towards his final prey. The burning high of adrenaline and endorphins mixing in his body and setting his blood on fire, it was better then Tony could have ever imagined. If the man standing before Tony had any illusions of defeating him, they had long since evaporated. Tony knew the man was dead, the mobster knew he was dead, but he went through the motions of defending himself anyway.
The mobsters arm exploded foreword, swinging the chain in a violent arc towards Tony's head. Tony caught the chain, taking the pain of it biting against his forearm, before jerking the chain from the mobsters grasp. The mobster turned and ran in a futile attempt to save his life. It wasnt a complete waste though, it gave Tony a moving target. Tony barreled after him, tackling the man face first against the tile floor. The mobster tucked his hands to the sides of his head to defend himself, as Tony cocked his right fist back. Tony slammed his fist down against the back of the fallen man's head, again and again, giving in to his blood lust until nothing but a mound of red sludge, and wet hair remained.
Tony threw his shoulders and head back and bellowed in carnal fury. This was the single greatest moment of his life. He was a blood stained warrior poet, this building was his arena, its walls and floors his canvas, the men inside it his sculpting clay, his blood stained fists his ink and pen, the people of the world his spectator. He was god king of mankind, he was the dealer of destruction and pain, he was wrath incarnate.
Tony barely even noticed that Corey was following him, holding her bag of toys silently, admiring Tony's brutal artistry. Tony said nothing to her. He walked around the receptionists desks and through one of the archways on either side of the divider wall, to the main lobby itself.
Tony's eyes widened as his blood fueled elation froze in his veins from what he saw. Before him, over a dozen gunman filed around the old fountain and large circular couches in the middle of the lobby, armed with AK-47's, Tec-9 submachine guns and pump action shotguns. Ontop of all that firepower, they were all over twenty feet away, far from the range of Tony's fists.
The mobster, seemingly in charge of the band of gunmen chambered a round into his AK-47 before shouting. "Waste this mother fucker!" With only a hint of a Russian accent. Tony's heart beat a mile a minute as he darted to the side. The adrenaline in his body surging through him as his rage made way for pure self preservation. Bullets and buckshot ripped through the floor tiles and walls around him as he crashed through a door of one of the side rooms. Tony broke the door right from its hinges, and fell with it, face first, onto the floor of the small conference room. He landed with a grunt, before he shook his head and quickly checked his surroundings.
He was alone, but there was only one way in into the conference room, through the door he had just knocked down. Tony grit his teeth as he heard the gunmen gathering outside of the doorway behind him. He stood near the doorway, but off to the side, waiting for the inevitable breach. The barrel of a pump action shotgun poked in through the door frame as the first gunman approached. Tony's hand clasped over the barrel of the gun and jerked the man holding it into the room, swinging him around like a rag doll. Tony brought his fist against the side of the gunman's head in a savage left hook, cracking his skull and bending his neck in an obviously fatal position.
Before the gunman's lifeless body even hit the floor, automatic fire ripped through the walls, striking all around Tony. He dove over the large conference table, and shoved it over violently, sliding it up against the wall with his legs. He hid behind the big wood slab, hoping the added layer of matter would help slow down the bullets ripping through the walls.
Tony narrowed his brow in confusion as he heard shouting in Russian and gunfire, and frantic footsteps away from the doorway. Tony realized Corey must have swung by to try and rescue him, but unlike before, it wasnt a simple gang banger with a pistol, it was a small army of Russian gunmen. Tony ground his teeth, as he waited. He was powerless to do anything from his position. He couldnt even poke his head out the door to see if Corey had been chased off or gunned down somewhere.
He heard a footstep approach the doorway again, this time much slower then before. Tony's body tensed, like a tightly coiled spring, as he waited, the sound of the gunman's nervous breathing tantalizing his senses. "Come out, come out…" The Russian gunman taunted boldly, though the quiver in his breath, told Tony a different story.
Tony exploded foreword, bringing his body partly in view of the open doorway. Before the gunman could aim and fire his rifle, Tony's arm exploded foreword, bringing his fist against the gunman's cheek with as much force as a boulder hurled from a catapult. The gunman's cheek bone was caved in to the back of his skull, his eye popping from its socket, before his body flopped against the ground.
Tony once again ducked behind the table as bullets ripped through the walls, the sounds of automatic fire masking the Russian and English curse words being thrown at him. After the second volley, and the subsequent reloading, there was only silence. He peeked through the open doorway without fully exposing himself. He saw nothing. Minutes went by, and still Tony waited, he didnt know what it was they were planning, but whatever it was, he would be ready.
Finally, the leader of the mobster's voice rang out through the doorway once more. "Hey, tiger man, yea you. We know your in there, skittering around like a rat." The leader said confidently. Tony knew they couldnt have heard him, he was barely moving at all, but the fact they dared to taunt him, caused his upper lip and eyes to twitch with rage. He snarled back in response, a wordless challenge for them to come in and get him. The voice of the Russian leader was unimpressed.
"You think your fangs are sharp? You think you are real tiger or something, growling like animal? Well, we have some friends here, whose teeth are a little sharper, then yours…" The Russian said with a laugh. Tony narrowed his brow, steeling himself for whatever they threw at him. As he waited, straining his hearing, he heard short, sudden commands in Russian, followed by excited scratching of claws on tile, and bestial growling. Tony bared his fangs as he waited for the inevitable. "Bring it on already!" He finally bellowed.
The Russian gunmen obeyed, two large Doberman pinchers shot through the doorway like dark fur covered rockets. Tony's face twisted in pain under his mask, as he felt the first dog spring up and sink its teeth into the meat of his palm. He ignored the pain of the deep gouges into his hand and clenched his fist around the dogs jaw, pressing the canines teeth deeper into his wounds. The second dog jumped up, with foam dripping from its thirsty jaws as it snapped for Tony's throat. He caught the second dog by the scruff of its neck, stretching his arm out to keep its jaws and claws away from him.
He growled in pain and frustration as the dog he held by its throat slapped its claws against his arm and chest again and again, ripping his shirt and drawing bloody lines across his body. The Russian handling the dogs poked his head inside of the doorway, fearfully at first, but when he spotted Tony struggling with the two attack dogs, he stepped into the room with a sadistic laugh.
Tony glared at the dog handler, even as he raised his submachine gun. Tony bellowed in fury as he slammed the two dogs skulls together, creating a loud thunk, and high pitched yelp. He threw the dog he held by the neck at the dog handler like a eighty pound medicine ball, knocking the man off of his feet and out of the room. With his right arm now free, he hooked his free hand around the dogs jaws, using both hands to force the dog's mouth open. He glared down at the attack dog with feral rage as he broke the dogs lower jaw from its head. He threw the injured animal against the wall just in front of him with heavy thud, killing the beast outright.
"Mother fuckerrr!" The Russian leading the gunmen screamed charging through the breach at Tony. Tony let the mobster run past him, before stunning him with a quick jab to the jaw. The Russian leader's legs turned to jelly, and his eyes watered, as Tony turned him around and held him in front of himself, as a human shield. He thrust the Russian leader back through the doorway, knocking aside the gunman who was filing in after him.
Tony left the conference room and used his hostage as a battering ram, knocking aside anyone who stood in his way. He nearly jumped in surprise as the dog handler fired wildly from his spot lying on the ground. Bullets pelted his human shield, as a stray round caught another gunman in the side of the head. Tony grit his teeth as he fell back against the doorway as the fallen dog handler emptied the magazine of his Tec-9 into his meat shield.
Tony jerked the Russian leader to the left, keeping him shielded from the rest of the gunmen and allowing him to see the fallen dog handler clearly. The dog handler eyes flashed with horror as his clumsy hands tried to release the empty magazine from his gun. Tony stomped the hard heel of his cowboy boot down onto the dog handlers chest, crushing clean through the bone and caving in the man's sternum, sending a small fountain of spittle and blood spewing up from the man's lips.
Tony turned his attention back to the left, where the rest of the gunmen were. "I cant get a clear shot!" Tony heard a gunman say. "Take the fucking shot!" The Russian leader said, dazed but still very much alive. Tony quickly jerked his head to peer around his hostage's neck and shoulder. The gunman immediately raised his pump action shotgun and fired, only to have Tony move his boss into the way of the shot. Tony's hostage groaned as the buckshot hit his body. Tony threw the Russian leader foreword at the man with the shotgun, who did his best to shrug his boss off the barrel of his gun before raising it to fire.
Tony caught the barrel of the shotgun and swung it and the gunman holding around himself it in a violent circle. The gunman tried to keep his stubborn grasp on his weapon, but was swung off of his feet. The gunman finally released his weapon and was sent rolling towards the fountain and couches in the middle of the lobby. Tony threw the shotgun to the ground so hard, it cracked the tile flooring, before stalking towards his fallen prey.
The gunman sprang to his feet, raising his arms to defend himself. Tony stopped in front of him, and waited. The mobster's fists shook as if possessed, as he wrestled with his body to throw a punch, but at the last moment, he kept stopping himself. Tony scoffed before throwing a fast jab into the man's chin. The man's legs gave out from under him but Tony didnt let him hit the ground. He caught the man by the collar of his shirt in mid fall, and threw two more quick punches against the man's forehead, the first blow cracking the skull, the second breaking it open. Tony held the man who hung limp in his grasp as he looked around for his next victim.
To Tony's surprise, they were gone. He had counted at least twelve, and was certain he hadnt killed that many. Before he could locate the rest of the gunmen, or Corey for that matter, a bullet ripped through the air from behind him, slamming into his back. Tony stumbled foreword, the gunshot stung, but the bullet was stopped by the military vest. It was only pain, and pain couldnt stop him.
Tony dropped the dead gunman and ran foreword for cover. His former hostage, the Russian leader, fired several shots from his pistol as Tony he dove behind the fountain. Bullets ripped into the aged concrete structure, sending debris raining down against his mask. Tony heard the satisfying sound of the mobster leader pulling the trigger of his pistol several times and the impotent clicks there after. He was empty.
Tony rose from behind the fountain. The thug leader was slumped against the wall, amongst the bodies of the dog handler and the others who fell trying to breach the doorway. He was wounded, bleeding, but somehow the bullet riddled mobster still had some fight left in him. Tony and the Russian's eyes fell on the shotgun on the ground, laying just in front of the doorway to the conference room. Tony's former hostage dove for the gun, landing on his face and crawling the rest of the distance for it. Just as the gunman's hands squeezed around the handle, and he began to lift the gun up, Tony's boot stomped down against it, pinning it right back down.
The Russian leader grit his teeth as Tony lifted him to his feet and slammed him back against the wall behind him. Tony reached for the man's shirt collar and ripped it, revealing the bullet proof vest underneath. The vest was littered with gunshot wounds, some still contained the crumpled bullet, stuck to his chest like a metallic spit wad. He had taken dozens of gunshot wounds, and survived them all because of his vest, but it would not save him from Tony. The gunman just glared back at him grimly, defiant to the end. Tony snorted back at him, and slammed his fist against the man's bullet proof vest and chest again and again, until blood spurted from the Russian's mouth, spraying against his mask.
Tony released his former hostage, letting it fall to the ground in a crumpled heap. Tony suddenly felt dizzy. With no more victims trying to kill him, his adrenaline levels began to crash. Tony ignored his dizzy spell. His body would rev back up at the site of a new adversary.
As he turned to walk away from the bloody carnage he created, his last remaining opponent growled at him from the side. Tony turned and saw the attack dog standing near its former master, growling and snapping hatefully at him. Tony raised a fist and growled back at the dog, glaring down at it with his smoldering orange hazel eyes. The attack dog cowered low to the ground before creating a yellow puddle on the floor. Tony lowered his fist back down to his side slowly. "Thats what I fucking thought…"