CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
Athos was sitting, back to the far wall, one leg drawn up to his chest, the other stretched out. That was the most comfortable position at the moment, but who knew what awaited him when the elevator doors opened? He kept both hands in full view.
The elevator doors opened and a lone masked man stood inside, a gun braced with both hands. The man's eyes raked over Athos and then flicked to his colleague, face up on the concrete, the top of his head gone.
"Explain," elevator man said, tersely.
Athos slowly raised his hands, before pointing silently to a gouge in the concrete floor.
"A fundamental rule of gun ownership," Athos replied. "Don't fire your weapon in a confined space."
/
"Get up," karate man had said. Athos, from his prone position, had merely turned his head and squinted up at him, before closing his eyes and turning back to face the floor.
"On Your Knees!" the man shouted and Athos heard the man unclipping his shoulder holster to withdrawn his gun.
Face down, Athos didn't move.
"On Your Knees!" the man screamed now. He obviously wanted him the execution position.
It took some effort but Athos managed to slowly roll onto his back.
The man, leaning over Athos and fuelled on adrenaline now, fumbled with the gun in his holster.
The gun came free and he aimed it down at Athos's face. The man's eyes narrowed. He was smiling.
Athos watched his trigger finger, waiting …
"Bruce Lee never used a gun," he said. The look of confusion crossed the man's face and as it did, Athos twisted his upper body to the side.
It all happened in an instant.
The gun went off, deafening him and showering him with concrete chips. And something else. He reached up to his jaw and swiped at his beard. His fingers came away bloody. Not his.
The man above him now stood at a grotesque angle. He had a hole in the left side of his forehead and he started to fall backward, a look of shock in his eyes.
His bullet had hit the floor where Athos had been laying and it had ricocheted back at an upward angle, hitting the man in the head as he bent over his intended victim. He started to topple back, his eyes wide and staring through the holes of his mask. Momentum took over and as his arm involuntarily flailed, the gun flew in an arch, hitting the floor behind him and skidding across to the far side of the basement.
The ringing in Athos's ears reached a crescendo and then began to subside, just as the elevator bumped to a halt. He shifted back, separating himself from the body. He didn't want whoever stepped out of the elevator to start firing blindly and the sight they encountered.
He wasn't sure if his tactic was what Lay and Pray meant but it had given him a few vital moments to figure his next move out and confuse karate man. Luck had given him the rest. It could have gone either way.
/
"He was one of our best," elevator man huffed, though otherwise appeared emotionless. Obviously there was no honour amongst thieves, nor any love lost. There was also no retribution. No killer shot.
"Not today," Athos replied, curtly. The injuries he had sustained were not visible, but he could feel every bruise that was blossoming on his body and his jaw hurt from the blow to his head from the man's elbow.
"Get up."
Athos spread his hands to show he was unarmed but the man did not seem interested in shooting him. He remained just inside the elevator and slowly stepped out and aside as Athos rose wearily to his feet, whilst hiding most of the pain he was in. The man trained his own gun on him as he covered Athos's advance into the elevator.
Once inside and making an effort not to lean on the wall of the elevator as it began to ascend, Athos said nothing, his mind working on the possible scenarios he was about to encounter. He was past fighting but he owed it to Aramis and Martina, if they were not dead, to stay alive.
In a morbid way, he wanted to see how this would play out and, if he was on his own now, then so be it.
There would be revenge to be had.
The elevator reached its destination. The doors slid open and Athos looked back over his shoulder. The masked man may have smiled or sneered in triumph but Athos could not tell as the man's face was obscured. They all looked the same, like emotionless silent clones, he thought irrationally.
He did a brief body count in his head, but had no idea of the true count, only what he knew for sure. There couldn't be more than ten of them, surely? Four on each side of the van, two in the front? Or maybe five on each side? As far as he knew, seven were dead by his and Aramis's hand, although technically, Martina had chalked one of those up in the kitchen with the skillet. That thought made him think of the game Cluedo and that made him inwardly huff in amusement. It had been a long night.
His rambling thoughts were cut off as the gun returned to the back of his head and roughly nudged him out of the elevator. The silence was eerie after all the previous commotion, though he noted the three bodies remained sprawled where they had fallen on the stairs. Aramis: 1 Athos: 2.
Movement at the top of the stairs alerted him and he watched as another masked figure emerged on the landing and began to walk slowly down the stairs. Slowly, for effect.
It was working, Athos was intrigued.
Until, half way down, the figure stopped. And spoke, muffled behind the mask but loud enough;
"Your friend is dead."
Athos's brain froze.
No.
He steeled himself not to react though Kramer's words came back to him with a vengeance – What will you do when he is gone?
He can't be dead.
With effort, he pushed the unthinkable aside. He would have to deal with it later. In response, Athos stiffened his spine, lifted his chin and, unblinking, watched the figure continue slowly down the stairs.
/
Nothing more was said. Athos was ignored, but it seemed he was expected to follow, if the man behind him with the gun to his head was anything to go by.
His insides felt like ice, his thoughts frozen on Kramer's words. He didn't know if it was true. He didn't want to find out.
The three of them walked down the left corridor. His legs felt numb, his bruises forgotten. He realised they were going to Kramer's office. He really did not want to go back in there, where Kramer's body sat in that unnatural position, but he had no option. He had no strength left to fight. He had no coherent thoughts. He felt numb.
The doctor's door was opened and he was shoved in. His knee almost gave way and he stifled a groan. The gunman did not follow them in, but closed the door behind them, his footsteps echoing down the corridor.
Athos was now alone with the person who was obviously in command.
Slightly disorientated, he was confused to see that dawn was braking over the mountains as they faced each other over Dr Kramer's desk.
This is what it had all been leading up to.
/
