Bloodhound

The Beginning

At the end of a hallway, there is a room. The room is small and stone. There are no windows, so the room is dark, uninviting.

There is a dead body in the room.

No one is allowed in the room.

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The bar is crowded, bright lights flashing at three second intervals. Shitty rock music from an unknown indie band blasts from speakers loosely fastened to the chipping walls.

Three men, with fancy suits and women draped on their arms, enter the bar. One wrinkles his nose as the smell of cheap beer is inhaled.

The men are tall and stiff. All of them have jet black hair. They don't blend in with the typical customers the bar has. Like frantic animals, their eyes dart around the bar. Skimming over dancing women and perverted men.

The bouncer doesn't ask for ID, his eyes are too focused on the women in front of him.

A few booths away from them is a man. He swirls his drink idly, brown eyes trained on the people in front of him.

A waitress walks up to him, her shirt is unbuttoned and her lipstick smeared.

"Can I get you anything sir?" She asks in a sultry voice.

"No." The man's voice is gruff. His eyes never stray far from the six people. "I won't be staying much longer."

Another man, pot bellied and dirty, whistles the woman over. Leaving the man in the booth alone.

The man's earpiece crackles, a warm sensation sparking against his skull. His eyes are trained on the woman in red. She laughs loudly and puts a hand on the bouncer's waist. She checks over his shoulder before slipping a packet into his pocket.

"Status?" The voice on the intercom, Agent Morin, questions.

The man leans against his hand, "Targets have just entered the premises. They appear to be members of the Raven Mafia. 3 women 3 men. One of the women slipped a package to the bouncer."

"Good job, Agent Dalver," Agent Morin praises, "Police forces have surrounded the building. Use the door by the bathroom as an exit and meet us by the van."

"You got it Sir," he says as he slips out of the worn leather seats, drink untouched.

He pushes open the door and listens to it swing shut. Men in riot gear surround the building. The man grins to himself when he sees the letters, 'CIA' sewn on their backs.

The familiar white van comes into view as the CIA force their way in. The man pulls open the door just as gunfire goes off.

He counts the shots.

Six.

A heavy hand lands on his shoulder. He look up to meet Agent Morin's eyes. He looks tired, but proud.

"You did good kid. Because of you we're one step closer to bringing the Raven Mafia to its knees." He removes his hand, "And when we get those bastards, we'll destroy those fucking BloodHounds."

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