Boobies stares at me in disbelief, her arms wrapped around the unconscious old man.
The lobby, once pristine, now bears the marks of my epic drift—huge tyre tracks imprinted on the floor.
The receptionists, probably seeking refuge behind their desks, are nowhere to be seen.
“Oh, fancy meeting you here,” I casually remark, lacking any pretence of surprise. To be honest, out of everyone in that room, I never expected her to be alive. It seems our astonishment is mutual. “Is the old man still breathing? How dashing! And hell yes, we can totally ride with three people on a motorcycle. Haven’t you seen those guys in India? They manage to squeeze in five or six. It’s like a fun adventure, don’t you think? Just give me a minute to check something.”
I manoeuvre the motorcycle slowly through the lobby, catching the confused gaze of the girl as I make my way towards the corridor with the emergency exit—the same path I took earlier.
Yes… He’s still there…
“Hm, listen, it’s not like I’ve committed a crime here or anything, but I’d really appreciate it if we could move on now, especially since the sound of the sirens is getting closer by the minute.”
From my new angle, I catch a glimpse behind the reception desk, trying to make sense of what I see.
“Hey, oh, that wasn’t me…”
“BE QUIET, I’M THINKING!” Boobies finally shouts, her frustration evident.
“Okay, but no need to show off.”
“Shut up! Remember the deal? I’m still the one giving orders here! The idiot is coming with the client, so you rescue him, and if anything happens, I’ll take full responsibility, as always. Hey, you shrimp!”
It’s a jumble of thoughts in her head. I wonder if she has a personality disorder or something.
I interject, “Yo, what? Be nice to me. I came all the way back here to help you.”
“It’s your job too! SHUT UP, ABHI, OR I WILL CUT OFF OUR CALL!”
“Yeah, so? That’s no reason to be disrespectful. I want you to know that…”
“We don’t have time. Please shut up and take the prince with you! Ride the motorcycle to this address. My associate will be waiting for you there. He knows exactly what to do when you arrive, so be quick. Once you’ve dropped him off safely, it would be best if you could go away. Find a restaurant or head back home. I don’t know, just please…
“You talk too much, Sis. I’ll handle my mission with care and finesse, don’t worry. But I don’t have any money for a restaurant, and I can’t go home, so I’ll just stay there,” I reply, settling the old man in front of me on the motorcycle.
It’s a bit of a challenge to see the road with his towering presence.
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” she asks anxiously, as the sound of approaching sirens grows louder outside the hotel.
“Guess it’s time for the grand escape!”
I give the throttle a few twists, revving the engine like in those cool movies, before I zoom out with explosive speed.
A couple of fire engines are just setting up nearby, but I burst through the shattered glass doors, honking to clear a path.
The blaring sirens fill my ears, and panic looms ahead.
I navigate through a corridor left open by the trucks, while people scramble to avoid the madness unfolding before them.
“If only you were a few centimetres shorter, old man… You’re making your own rescue difficult.”
I manage to adjust his body slightly, placing his right arm over my shoulders so that my head can fit in.
It’s a comical sight, and I hope we don’t get stopped by the police tonight. Safety helmets? Who needs ’em?
Full speed down the motorway, I skilfully weave between the bright headlights of passing cars, disappearing into the distance, heading towards our hideout.
If anyone was paying attention, they were likely witnessing the birth of a new urban legend.
“You’ll regret it.”
“Maybe,” I reply, watching them vanish in a dazzling display of light and sound.
As I remember the approaching police, I realize I need to relieve myself as well.
Free from the weight of the old man, I sprint through the corridors in search of the emergency exit.
But what the...? There’s a butchered body sprawled in front of it.
My morbid curiosity gets the better of me, compelling me to stop and take a closer look.
They didn’t give him a chance… Disgusting, they even mutilated his genitals. Such a brutal way to kill.
Four strikes: throat, testicles, heart, temple. It was an act of masterful precision and speed.
His life extinguished within seconds. The body is still warm, its colour intact, indicating that he couldn’t have died long ago. But who could have carried out such a gruesome act?
The image of the girl who vanished before the explosion, only to reappear miraculously at the last moment to rescue the client, flashes through my mind.
No way… What if I completely misjudged her? This knife skill is far from that of a harmless person.
Damn it. I’m such an idiot! If she deceived us by pretending to be a clueless girl, planting the bomb in the hotel room before leaving, and relying on a skilled bodyguard from the agency to save the client in the nick of time, then she would have the dying old man worth millions in her clutches. And I fell right into her trap!
“What’s taking you so long to leave?” Abhi’s voice interrupts my thoughts.
“Abhi, you might be right. I made a huge mistake.”
“Eh, called it.”
“Don’t expect any miracles tonight. This mission is a failure. She’s probably taken him to her own hideout by now and will dispose of him within the next few hours.”
“I suppose these things happen. Don’t be too hard on yourself. There will be other missions. Hurry up, or you’ll be in real trouble, and there might not be a next time. Your next vehicle is waiting for you. Follow these instructions.”
I take a deep breath and begin walking. Outside, a group of heavily armed professionals in helmets and shields—the anti-terror brigade—has arrived. Their coverage of the area seems lacking, and I manoeuvre past them without panicking, even as they spot me and start shouting in my direction.
“Thanks for the backup, Abhi. I’m on my way home.”
The docks I spotted from above are just a few metres away from the tower. With determination, I leap onto a waiting motorboat and start the engine of my favourite mode of transport.
The entire city is built next to the sea, with numerous canals crisscrossing its landscape—a mental map I have memorized perfectly.
“Don’t worry, Schwa. I’ve prepared cocoa milk for you.”
I smile and press the accelerator.
As the foam dances around me, sparkling like a thousand stars, I glide gracefully along the shoreline, feeling as proud as the moon.
“So why didn’t we use this method to transport the prince?”
…
“Abhi...?”
…
“Well, fuck it.”
That brat probably went off to play video games.
The thought of cocoa milk washes away my worries.
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