CHAPTER ELEVEN: SHOWDOWN
Antonio Strong and his two bodyguards return to their hotel penthouse suite smelling heavily of cigar smoke and booze from the long night at the casino.
“Damn, they cleaned me out,” Antonio groans, complaining about his casino losses.
“Maybe, but that cocktail waitress was something else!” one bodyguard chimes in.
“You got that right,” the other says.
Antonio’s cell phone rings and he pulls it out of his suit jacket. “Yeah?” he answers gruffly. The news he hears thrills him. “Finally, God damn it! Bring her here!” He hangs up and returns his cell phone to his suit pocket. He stares out window overlooking the sparkling nighttime city. His unusual silence draws attention from his cohorts.
“What’s got you so quiet, boss?” one bodyguard asks.
He turns to them both, a maniacal grin spreading across his face. “I found her.”
“No shit? How?”
“A tip from a friend of the future mayor.”
“It’s about time,” the other goon says. “What’s the plan?”
“They’re bringing her here now. Get ready.”
Less than an hour later, at midnight, the knocking at the penthouse door fills Antonio Strong with excitement.
“Open it!” he orders a bodyguard. The goon obediently unlocks and opens the door. Two other suited men working for Antonio push a terrified Rose into the room. They had broken into her house and pulled her from her sleep, as evidenced by her matching white T-shirt and sleeping shorts, her bare feet and tousled hair. Her hands are bound behind her and a handkerchief tied around her mouth keeps her from screaming for help. Her bruised face is streaked by tears.
Antonio looks his wife up and down, the arrogant expression on his face turning angry. “Did anyone see you?” he asks the abductors.
“No. We came up the service entrance. No one saw us,” a burly henchman answers.
Antonio nods in approval. “Good.” He looks at Rose again. “Untie her. Take that shit off.” One of the henchmen cuts the zip tie binding her hands and removes the handkerchief around her head.
Rose steps backwards but is met by the solid muscular wall of a henchman standing directly behind her. Her mind is whirling, and she hates herself for letting them get her again. Aware that the five men in the room have guns, she doesn’t try to scream or escape.
Antonio runs his hand through his hair and walks to the small bar next to the room’s kitchen. He pours himself a glass of bourbon. “So, Rose White, is it? Is that the name you go by now?” He feigns a respectful tone. With bourbon in hand, he walks back over to her. “You have no idea what it took to find you. The resources. The men.” He laughs. “But I’ve got you now, don’t I. And, Rose White,” he says, mocking her name by making quotation marks in the air with his fingers. He leans in, shoving his cruel ugly face close to hers. “Antonio Strong always gets what he wants.”
The whizzing of metal throwing stars slicing through the air around them interrupts Antonio’s self-indulgent speech. The sound of blades piercing flesh and the grunting that accompanies their deadly impact causes both Antonio and Rose to glance around them, wondering what is happening.
Two things are immediately clear. The four henchmen in the room are bleeding out from the knives or throwing stars sticking out of their necks. And the Black Jester is the one that threw them. Having hidden in the large closet in the back bedroom of the suite, the Black Jester has been waiting for this since being tipped off.
Antonio curses and stumbles backward, away from the falling bodies of his now dead cohorts. He looks wildly between the Black Jester and Rose, unsure which one he wants to kill first. He rips his .45 mm handgun out from the holster hidden by his suit jacket and pulls back the slide. He aims it first at Rose, then at the Black Jester, who begins to rush him.
The door to the hotel room busts open and the Detective and Johnny storm in, guns drawn. They glance briefly at the four bodies on the floor. Johnny aims his weapon at Antonio, but the Detective aims his at the Black Jester.
In an angry frenzy, Antonio still can’t decide who to aim at and shoot, and his gun wavers between his insubordinate wife and the Black Jester.
“Don’t you move, you son of a bitch! I’ve got you now!” the Detective orders the Black Jester.
“Nobody move!” Johnny orders. “Put down your weapon, Mr. Strong!” Johnny demands of Antonio.
In the middle of the chaos, Rose stands frozen in fear.
“Shoot him! He just killed my men!” Antonio screams, pointing his gun at the Black Jester, who stands rigid and ready to pounce.
“Shut up, Mr. Strong, and put your gun down!” The Detective yells at Antonio, keeping his eyes plastered on the Black Jester.
“If you don’t shoot him, I will!” Antonio screams.
“Move one muscle and I will shoot you!” Johnny yells. “Put it down!”
Antonio is breathing heavy, his face reddened with rage. He glances at Rose and clenches his teeth, muscles in his jaw flickering violently. “This is all your fault. First I’ll kill him, then you!” he vows.
The Black Jester waits no longer. With his near inhuman speed, he rips a knife from his coat and throws it like a dart at a target, hitting the bull’s eye. The knife sails over Antonio’s gun and outstretched arm, slicing into his throat and knocking him backwards onto the floor.
While the split second execution of Antonio Strong is happening, the Detective screams at the Black Jester to stop, then watches as the knife takes out Antonio. Reacting as quickly as he can, the Detective aims his gun at the Black Jester and squeezes the trigger.
Rose watches Antonio’s body fall, and she’s aware that she stands between the Detective and the Black Jester. Suddenly, the monster in her nightmare is dead. Everything else is a non-issue. The guns. The danger. Her instinct to protect her protector is absolute. In this moment, Rose White finds her courage.
“No, don’t shoot!” she screams while squaring herself with the Detective and jumping directly in front of the Black Jester.
It’s too late. Blinded by his obsession to take down the Black Jester, the Detective squeezes the trigger, confident that his bullet will finally end the murder spree plaguing his beloved city.
The impact of the bullet makes a loud thud as it explodes through Rose’s flesh and knocks her backwards into the Black Jester. The bullet doesn’t lodge in Rose, but continues its deadly path directly into the Black Jester’s chest. Both Rose and the Black Jester fall to the floor.
Rose screams in agony and grasps at the bleeding bullet hole just below her right shoulder. The Black Jester, in pain from the impact but protected against its penetration by his Kevlar clothing, scrambles to his knees and crouches by her side, frantically inspecting her wound.
“No!” he cries as he presses the heel of his hand onto her gushing wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding.
“Jesus!” the Detective cries, realizing he’s the reason Rose is on the floor bleeding. He lowers his gun a few inches.
“My God!” Johnny exclaims. He reaches out and forcefully lowers the Detective’s arm and gun to neutralize the threat of another rogue shot.
“Johnny, go get help, get an ambulance! Go down and meet them when they get here! Hurry!” the Detective stammers.
“I’m calling for help! Hang on, Rose! Just hang on!” Johnny holsters his weapon and pulls out his cell phone, his hands shaking as he runs out of the room and down the hall towards the elevators.
“Oh, my God,” Rose cries as she looks down to see the entire front of her white shirt soaked in her blood. The warm stickiness soaks her torso and drips down around her sides beneath her shirt.
The Black Jester’s efforts to stop the bleeding don’t seem to be working, and her blood gushes up over his fingers and covers his hands. He looks up at the Detective and screams in a gruff, terse voice. “You did this! This is your fault!” He sees that one of the henchman’s guns is laying right next to him. Keeping
one hand on Rose’s bleeding wound, he picks up the gun with the other and aims it at the Detective.
The Detective raises his gun again, prepared to shoot. But before either makes a move, Rose reaches up and grabs the Black Jester’s arm, pulling it down.
“No,” she says, weak voice shaking. “No more killing!”
The Detective is surprised to hear the bleeding girl’s plea. Perhaps he was wrong about her involvement in the Black Jester’s murders.
The Black Jester complies with her plea, and he tosses the gun, turning his full attention back to her.
The Detective keeps his gun aimed at the Black Jester, and takes out his cell phone to call Johnny. “Johnny, where’s that ambulance? We need it ASAP. She’s losing blood fast.” Silence on the other end of the line makes the Detective pull his phone away from his ear to look at it, to be sure he called the right number. It’s Johnny’s number but Johnny isn’t talking on the other end of the call.
“What the hell! Johnny? Can you hear me?”
Distracted by the phone call, the Detective doesn’t hear or see the butt of a gun swinging towards his head from behind him. The blow to his head immediately knocks him out and he falls unconscious onto the floor.
The Black Jester scoops Rose up into his arms. The Red Jester, having sneaked into the room avoiding the Detective’s eye, tosses the goon’s handgun he just used to knock him out.
“You better hurry,” he cautions the Black Jester. “Can you handle her?”
“Yes,” the Black Jester answers.
“I’ll take care of this,” the Red Jester says, gesturing towards the Detective.
Labored cries escape Rose’s now raspy throat in between her ragged breathing. Her entire body shakes from the blood loss as she slides into shock. The Black Jester holds her tightly against him as he runs towards the service elevator.
Rose is quickly losing awareness of what is going on. “Please don’t let me die,” she begs him. “Please.”
“I won’t,” he says as she fades into unconsciousness. “I promise.”
The last sensations she notices before passing out is a whirling dizziness and the metallic odor of her blood thick inside her nose.