Bounty Hunter [REWRITTEN VERSION]

Chapter 4: Kishan/Zmeya

ALEC

He felt his hands tighten on his weapon as an eerie creak sounded from the hinges on the door, he didn't doubt himself, they were in the right place. This was the location he had scouted earlier that morning from the outside, and this was the address attached to the message he had received, along with the number 113. This wasn't a trap. It wasn't some trick. But there was a twinge of unease creeping into his mind as he slipped first into the room. It was too quiet.

Entering, the room was larger than expected. But that was mainly due to the walls that had half caved in on themselves, connecting into other rooms with the same problem. It was hard to believe a building like this was still here. Alec took a steady breath. There was no sign of what he was looking for.

"Kishan?" he called out the name as the Captain and the bounty hunter followed him through the entrance behind him. No answer.

That wasn't a good sign.

He tried again. "Kishan—" but he stopped almost as soon as the name left his mouth, body tensing as he heard a faint echo of a click on metal. That really wasn't a good sign. "Shit!" he cursed as he managed to shove the Captain and Maize behind the nearest cover, dodging the bullet that whizzed past and ebbed itself in the wall behind. He then heard another click.

"West, get down!" a familiar voice shouted before he was tugged to the ground by the collar of his shirt, missing as another shot was fired. "You idiot, don't just stand there waiting to get hit!" the bounty hunter exclaimed at him. She had saved him.

"Hey I wasn't—" he retorted defensively before he cut off again, realizing something. The bullets had stopped, it was quiet again.

"West?" A new voice called curiously. "Is that you?"

Alec suddenly didn't know whether to let out a sigh of relief or a curse of irritation.

"Yeah, it's me, you damn psychopath! Were you planning to ask the same question before or after you killed me?!"

The detective rose to his feet, crossing his arms as he stared ahead.

"Long time no see, Kishan."

Just then a tall man—who looked in his early thirties, five or so years older than Alec himself—with touseled black hair and calculating dark eyes stepped out from the shadows, sending the detective an amused smirk. "Well as I live and breathe, you made it. How've you been lately?" he asked casually.

Alec scoffed. "I'd be better if you hadn't tried to blow my head off just now."

Kishan winced slightly and slipped his handgun back into the waistband of his jeans. "Oops. Sorry about that, paranoia's been getting to me," he replied sheepishly.

Alec's eyes narrowed somewhat at the statement, reminding him why he was here in the first place. Kishan had called him here for a reason, he was in some kind of trouble—though his message had refused to elaborate any further than it was bad. It was then, for the first time, that Alec realized how tired and worn out his old friend really looked—as if he'd had a rough couple of days.

"You asked me to meet you here, you said you were in some kind of trouble..." Alec began.

"I know," Kishan sighed, running a hand through his hair before his gaze suddenly flickered past Alec. "I see...you also brought friends."

Alec was suddenly reminded of the two other figures standing behind him. No doubt they were waiting for answers as to what was going on. Well they would have to wait a little longer.