The December Hunt (Work in Progress)

Part 9 - [Placeholder Title] (v1.1)

Hugo and Kiyo both jumped, and Rick swept up the gun in his hands and aimed down the sights at the opening door. The three of them were standing on the left side of the room, so they couldn't see very far through the door frame. For two seconds, nobody walked through the open door. Nobody moved. 

Then, a blonde-haired man slowly peeked around the corner of the door frame. He wore a dark red hoodie and khakis, although he was no longer wearing his sunglasses. It was 11:35 pm, and the sun had long set by then. 

"Please don't shoot me, Rick," he called across the casino floor. "This is already a bad day, and getting shot will not make it better."

Rick's grip loosened off the handle of the gun, and he pointed the gun into the air over his shoulder. "Thought you might've made it out, Philip," Rick replied. "Guess today just isn't our lucky day."

Kiyo looked over at Rick. "Your friend?" she asked him. 

Rick nodded. Philip pushed the door open all the way and stepped into the casino floor, letting the heavy, textured door close behind him. He looked over at Hugo and Kiyo. 

"Oh," he said, snapping his fingers. "You two are from the blackjack table." 

They nodded.

"I'm Hugo."

"Kiyozumi. Kiyo for short."

"Philip," he replied, "but I guess that's apparent by now."

Rick was about to mention the mahjong room and the hostages when the door opened a second time. Phillip heard the sound of the door swinging open. He turned his head to the left to look at the door, but his face was soon met with a fist curving through the air. It hit Phillip on his upper jaw and whipped his head around to the right. It was Carla, and in her other, non-fist hand was a sidearm. Kiyo and Hugo tensed up; their fight-or-flight response kicked in, and they readied themselves for a fight. 

Rick was taken aback and scrambled to get the gun back into his hands. In the few seconds it took him to get the gun aimed at Carla, Carla had grabbed Phillip's hood and jerked it over his head, kicking out one of his legs from under him and swinging his body down to the floor. Phillip hit the ground. She pressed the nozzle of the gun in between his shoulder blades. Kiyo noted that Carla, although not entirely polished in her movements, was surprisingly adept at close combat for a woman who's job was singing and music production.

"Stop or I will shoot him," Carla said to Rick. Nobody moved.