Gino moved fast to get off the roof and down where he could do the most good. They had to take out all guards in seconds and then get inside to find Zhu and the rest of his men before someone inside tried to contact one of the dead guards.
The moment Gino gave the all clear, Rubin and Diego went to work. Gino slipped back into the alley, noting the man and the woman were walking back. He was just a little ahead of her, walking quickly, making it plain he didn’t consider her anything but a whore he paid for her services. She didn’t seem to mind or notice, she chattered away, trailing after him. The moment they rounded the corner to the front street, he ran down the alley in the opposite direction.
I’m in position, Gino, Draden said. I’ll take the one facing north. He’s within a few steps of me.
I’m in position, Gino echoed. I’ve got the one facing south.
Rubin and Diego had chosen their respective kills and said so.
All four men waited.
It’s a go, Ezekiel gave the order.
Gino moved out of the shadows to walk silently into the street where Zhu’s soldier paced away from him. He fell into step behind him, just as Draden, Rubin, and Diego did the same with the prey they stalked. Two more steps and Gino had him, taking him in their classic kill method, driving the knife deep into the base of the neck, severing the spinal column. He kept his hand over the mouth while he caught the gun. Quickly, he dragged the dead weight to the side of the building, pushing him into the darkest corner and wiping his knife on the man’s shirt.
One down, that’s three.
One down here, that’s four, Draden said.
One down, that’s five, Rubin reported.
Down here, so six altogether, Diego added.
Gino was already on the move, heading to the back of Razor’s Edge where the three bored club guards were still lounging. One flipped his cigarette onto the ground, looked furtively around without seeing the four GhostWalkers surrounding them, and pulled out a flask to drink. He was a civilian guard, one the club had hired, and he was probably more interested in whatever perks the club gave him then doing his job. Another guard sniffed cocaine up his nose.
Gino took the one closest to him, walking right up to him in plain sight, as if to ask a question. He just kept walking, and as he passed the guard, he slit his throat. He never even paused or slowed down. Rubin and Draden did the same with the two other club guards and Diego pulled each body to one side and dropped them in the darkness.
Club guards dead, going in, Gino reported.
He yanked open the door and entered the club. The music was pounding and loud, spilling out from various rooms. Screams, moans and laughter could be heard over the music. He glanced back at Rubin and Diego and then at Draden. Draden knew what to expect, but he didn’t know about the two brothers from the Appalachian Mountains. He hoped they’d keep it together.
He walked down a narrow hallway that opened almost immediately to a large common room where a bar curved along one side and tables stretched across the floor, giving ample seating to the patrons. Naked waitresses and waiters, all wearing collars, served the men and women at the tables. Two waitresses dropped to their knees at one of the larger tables after handing out the drinks, to crawl under and open trousers. A waiter was doing something very similar at another table.
Gino signaled and Diego and Rubin split up, each going up the side of the wall, clinging like two lizards, nearly impossible to see with their blurred images. They would be the eyes in the room. Each of Zhu’s men wore a red armband sewn into the sleeve of his shirt, making them easily to identify. Zhu wanted those armbands to strike fear into anyone who crossed them—and they usually did. The men liked to wear them because no one ever opposed them.
Small table to your left, Gino. Three sitting together. One just got up to go into another room. Rubin gave the report.
I’ll go after the one leaving, Gino said.
No worries, I’ve got the two at the table, Draden said.
Gino fell into step behind the tall man with the red armband. The club was like a giant beehive. All around were rooms, the walls glass so anyone could see in. Many visitors stood and watched as a woman was being whipped, the skin flayed from her back. Two men had their cocks out, stroking excitedly to the sight. Zhu’s man stopped to watch, grinning as the woman begged and pleaded for her tormentor to stop.
Gino took him right there, while the others stood staring, fascinated at the window. He killed Zhu’s soldier and dragged him over to a chair where he positioned him with his legs sprawled out before walking in a circle, looking into each of the windows.
Another down, that’s seven. Keeping track of their enemy was a common thing when spread out and they were certain of the numbers. That way, no one would accidentally be left to come back at them.
The common area was dimly lit so the hexagonal cells could be blazing with bright lights. He simply walked around, looking into each cell, noting the ones that held men with red armbands. There were three. On the fourth cell in, he located Bolan Zhu.
Eight and nine are down, Draden reported in. I left them sitting at their table, drinks at hand.
Gino should have known Zhu would draw a large crowd, and he had, the onlookers two feet deep around the window. They smelled of alcohol, drugs, sex and excitement as they regarded the man they’d come to expect a huge show from. He knew it too, and he played to his audience.
Zhu was angry that Zara had escaped him once more and he was taking it out on the two women and one man he had chained and hanging from the ceiling. The two women were bound in extremely painful positions, their bodies contorted, the ropes so tight the bonds cut into the skin. The ropes had tiny hooks woven into the strands, so they ripped at skin each time the women moved, or even took a breath. Weighted balls hung from their nipples, adding to their agony, but it was the man Zhu heaped humiliation and punishment on.
Zhu was naked, his body rippling powerfully with muscles. He beat the man unmercifully, every part of his body, then tied him in a pose that left him contorted but exposed his cock and ass to his tormenter. Zhu left him hanging and went to work on the women, clearly getting aroused at seeing them suffer.
Gino was shocked to feel sick to his stomach. He had seen torture, but not like this, not for pure pleasure. One shouldn’t get aroused by hurting others. There was no doubt that Zhu was getting off on what he was doing, and a good portion of those watching were as well.
Find the others. They have to be in this club. I want someone to start finding dead bodies and start a panic. I can’t get to Zhu in the blinding light. Nor did Gino want to. He wanted to kill his men one by one and then have a little time alone with Zhu. Gino had always thought of himself as a demon—a man belonging in hell—but the things Zhu was doing to his three prisoners was evil. Vile. The man was sick and twisted.
Red armband in crowd at fifth window, just passed Zhu. That was Diego.
Gino hated that Diego was inside the area where the well-lit cells were. Each scene was something out of a horror movie. He hadn’t realized he felt so protective toward Rubin and Diego. It wasn’t that they were that young, or that na?ve, but they were both good men.