The Magpie's Death

Stalemate (2)

"No reservations," the man replied, resting an elbow on the wood. He was too cocky to even notice that something was off. "We just wanted to ask you some questions."

The Magpie nodded and held up his hand. "Sure. One moment please."

Turning to the back wall, he pretended to reach for something, then spun. Thin blades flew out and lodged deep into the followers' throats. Their hands were instantly at the metal hilt, blood dripping from between their fingers. Their cocky leader twisted in shock.

Using the opportunity, the Magpie took a large step forward and grabbed at his greasy hair, bashing his head into the counter. In an instant, one foot was on a shelf, then palms pressed into the desk, arms vaulting him over. He snatched the gun from the now unconscious cocky man's waist. Fingertips barely brushed their weapons before he shot each partner between the eyes. With a sigh, his arm shifted back to the leader slumped over the polished wood and he put a bullet point-blank into the base of his skull.

A swift kick moved the body off the counter, letting it thud down with the others. They may have been Lost Horizon, but they weren't very clever or skilled. If they really thought he was here, why had the Suns sent these basic thugs? Hopefully that didn't affect the rest of their plan. If it was going to work, there couldn't be a single change.

After yanking his knives out of muscle and arteries, he wiped them off on a pant leg, then emptied the magazines from their guns, stuffing them into his pockets. He only spared the three a single glance before moving to the kitchen, ready for whatever came next.

They never had a chance. Such a waste of life.

From his position crouched behind the kitchen island, he could hear every movement in the house. The first sounds he heard were panicked cries and screams from the other guests, then doors slamming and locking. An understandable reaction to three gunshots in a small-town bed and breakfast. There were only a few people, all now safely hidden in their rooms and out of his way, so it wasn't too much of an issue for him. Hopefully anyone who happened to arrive later would be smart enough to run away.

In all honesty, he didn't care. He wasn't completely coldhearted, not anymore, but people did strange things out of panic. Stupid things. Sometimes collateral damage was unavoidable. Especially when everyone insisted on using guns.

So crude...

There was a light creaking from the sitting room, moving into the dining area, and he shifted to get a better angle. One set of footsteps. Agile, belonging to someone more skilled than the dead men by the desk. Then he heard a floorboard groan close to the foyer door, a second set trying to sneak in from the front.

Shit.

Taking a breath to steady himself, he waited to see which would approach first. From the sound, it seemed the one in the back was a distraction for the other. Pulling out a slender blade, he thanked the house again for being so ancient and the Glass family for never replacing the original floors.

Before either of his 'visitors' had a chance to turn on the overhead light, the Magpie glanced around the edge of the island to the man quietly inching closer from the front. The sun streaming in from the entry created the perfect outline of a figure. He shot, the bullet hitting the shadow in the chest. The shadow shot as well, but the aim was off and it only grazed his forearm. It stung, but wasn't anything he couldn't handle.

From the wheezing sound, he guessed he hit the man's lung. Heavier footsteps came toward him, faster now, and he stood and threw. The knife pierced into the second man's eye, throwing the aim of his shot off as well and hitting the outside of the Magpie's left shoulder.

It took a chunk of skin and sliver of muscle with it. He let a heavy grunt escape, but there wasn't time to worry about the pain. In half a second, a bullet was in the attacker's chest. In another, he spun, grabbing the first man's gun and twisting, snapping the finger before it could pull the trigger again. As he did with the others, he shot between the eyes, then took a few long strides to the back of the kitchen and did the same to his partner.

After emptying the cartridges from their guns and throwing them into a drawer, he took a short breath and took his place behind the island. Those two were better than the first, which meant there was still hope for his plan. Waiting patiently, only a few minutes passed before he finally heard a familiar voice call out from the sitting room.

"Look at the mess you made, Magpie." The man's voice was deep and cold, much like his own, laced with a hint of malice and another of pleasure. "I don't think your friend here will enjoy cleaning this up."

Letting out an irritated sigh, he stood and exited the kitchen into the foyer, shooting the two remaining men in the head. They were positioned to take him but had no time to react. He watched them crumple to the floor.

"Tsk, tsk," the familiar voice scolded, the tone not changing. He wasn't actually concerned about his dead companions. "Come on now. Stop shooting people. If you keep doing that, I may have to return the favor."

He turned to see a mammoth of a man, even larger than himself, standing in the glass sitting room. Holding Jack tight in his arm, he pressed a pistol hard to his temple. With his shaved head, scarred face and neck, and twisted grin, he was easy to recognize.

"Do you see what your friend has done?" The man's sneering mouth was almost touching his prisoner's ear and the Magpie cringed. "Seven of my men in a handful of minutes. So scary."

Jack was breathing heavily but otherwise quiet. Most likely instructed not to make any noise, or else. The look on his face pierced the Magpie's heart. It held terror and dread, but not only for himself. That made it so much worse. He sighed again, this time in defeat, and held his hands in the air.

"Gun."

He dropped it to the ground and took a few steps forward.

"That's close enough."

Despite being unarmed, with someone he cared for taken as collateral, the massive man was still nervous of the Magpie. He needed to make him more comfortable so those nerves didn't accidentally pull the trigger.

Hands still in the air, he smirked. "Red. It's been a long time."

There was the smallest pause, the man searching his brain, then Red copied the expression.

"Well, shit... Nate. You know, I had my suspicions. You always were the best." He huffed out a laugh, glancing at Jack now trembling against his chest. "Emphasis on were. Isn't this exciting? Nate, the Magpie. Or should I call you Sam?"

The Magpie spit out a bitter chuckle and shrugged. "Call me whatever the hell you want. You know this is a stalemate, right?"

He took another step forward to test him. Red flinched but didn't make a move.

You always were reliable, Red.

"This ends one way." He took another small step, hands still above his head. "I have the recording safely hidden but not here. And I have copies. So we'll make an exchange. I go with you and give you the original. You leave this place and never come back. Easy."