Redemption's Edge

3: Showdown

The aftermath of Jake's rampage at the warehouse sent shockwaves through Redemption. The streets buzzed with whispered rumors and fearful whispers. But Jake wasn't interested in the town's gossip. He had a job to finish, and nothing was going to stop him.

As he walked through the deserted streets, Jake's mind raced with thoughts of revenge. Ray Tanner was still out there, still breathing, and Jake wasn't about to let him get away with what he'd done. But first, he needed information.

Jake made his way to a seedy motel on the outskirts of town, the kind of place where secrets were bought and sold for the right price. He pushed open the door to the dingy lobby and approached the front desk, his eyes scanning the room for any sign of trouble.

The clerk behind the desk eyed him warily, but Jake didn't pay him any mind. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash, tossing it onto the counter with a casual flick of his wrist.

"I'm looking for information," Jake said, his voice low and menacing. "About Ray Tanner. I need to know where he's hiding."

The clerk hesitated, his eyes flicking nervously between Jake and the money on the counter. But greed won out in the end, and he leaned in closer, his voice barely a whisper.

"I might know a guy," the clerk said, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "But it's gonna cost you."

Jake didn't hesitate. He slid another wad of cash across the counter, his eyes locked on the clerk's.

"Take me to him," Jake said, his voice brooking no argument.

The clerk nodded, pocketing the money with a greedy grin. He led Jake down a dark hallway, the floorboards creaking beneath their feet. They stopped outside a door at the end of the hall, and the clerk knocked three times.

The door swung open, revealing a dimly lit room filled with smoke and the sound of muffled voices. Jake stepped inside, his hand hovering over the gun at his waist.

The room was filled with a motley crew of thugs and lowlifes, their eyes narrowing as Jake entered. But Jake didn't flinch. He made his way to the back of the room, where a man sat hunched over a table, counting a stack of bills.

Ray Tanner.

Jake's blood boiled at the sight of him, but he kept his cool. He approached Ray slowly, his footsteps measured and deliberate. Ray looked up, his eyes widening in surprise.

"Well, well, well," Ray said, a smug grin spreading across his face. "Look who decided to drop by. What can I do for you, Striker?"

Jake didn't answer. Instead, he reached for his gun, his movements smooth and practiced. The room erupted into chaos as the other men reached for their weapons, but Jake was faster.

He opened fire, the shots ringing out like thunder in the cramped space. Bodies fell left and right, blood staining the floor in dark pools. But Jake didn't stop until he reached Ray, his gun pressed against the man's temple.

"You took something from me, Tanner," Jake growled, his voice barely a whisper. "And now, it's time to pay the price."

Ray's eyes widened in fear as Jake pulled the trigger, the sound of the gunshot echoing through the room like a death knell. And as Ray Tanner's lifeless body slumped to the ground, Jake knew that justice had finally been served.

But the fight was far from over. As he walked out into the night, Jake knew that there were still more battles to be fought, more enemies to be vanquished. But he was ready, his gun loaded and his fists clenched, to deliver "Hard Justice" wherever it was needed.