Saint Botero (Male P.O.V)

October 28, 2074

After trekking toward the island center, Quinton and I discovered a structure hidden amongst the vegetation. The gray-bricked building stood one story tall with no windows and had only one visible entrance. An abundance of trees surrounded it, enabling us to scope it out from a distance.

I knew we were far enough away to avoid detection from the cameras mounted on every corner of the building, but the roaming sentries could be a problem. Every single one of them toted assault rifles making even the boldest of men think twice before stepping one inch closer.

But despite the heavy security, only two men stood guard at the entrance. And getting past them wouldn't be an easy feat.

"Do you see a way for us to enter?" I asked Quinton, speaking low enough that only he could hear.

"Yep," With his shoulder braced against the tree trunk, he checks if his safety is off. "But you're not going to like it."

Aw, shit.

Knowing Quinton, he probably had a half-assed plan that would lead to us going out in blazing glory. But still, it was better than having no plan at all. Time was ticking. And the longer we stood here increased the odds of being discovered.

"What is it?" I inhaled deeply, trying to prepare myself for whatever he would say, but it was useless.

"We go straight through the front door." He said with the straightest face as if the answer was obvious.

What?!

I stared at him as if two heads suddenly sprouted from his neck, but he never once looked my way as he kept an eye out for anyone approaching.

There was no way of knowing if guards were waiting on the other side. Let alone how many. It would be a suicide mission.

"Nah, I'd rather not die today."

"If you have another way, I'm listening."

"I got nothi..." My voice trailed off upon seeing a group of men approaching the entrance. "Look, look."

"Who are they?"

"No idea." I softly replied, my eyes never leaving the seventeen men. In particular, the seven in the middle. All of them were in their mid to late forties and of a different race. Their custom-fitted suits, expensive shoes, and fancy watches made them stand out like a sore thumb in this tropical setting. Especially next to the men dressed more casually in cargo pants and white t-shirts.

Bits and pieces of their overlapping chatter floated over to us, but I struggled to understand it. Once they reached the doors, the guards allowed them entry with no questions asked.

Just as the door slammed closed behind them, the walkie-talkie attached to the nearest guard's belt crackled.

An unfamiliar baritone voice blared through the speakers shortly after. "There's one more coming your way with two guards." He said.

Quinton looked over at me with the biggest grin on his face. "There's our plan."

I groaned and pinched the bridge of my nose. "You can't be serious."

"Yes, I am. We just need to intercept them."

"Fucking hell," I grumbled under my breath. "Fine, let's go."

Quinton led the way back to the makeshift path, taking care not to step on the twigs scattered on the ground. Once there, we cut through the trees in a direction parallel to it and soon came across our unsuspecting targets. We posted up behind trees keeping out of the eye line of the two guards watching over another man. He's pacing back and forth between them with his phone glued to his ears as he listens intently to whatever the person on the other end is saying.

Quinton splits off from me, heading to the left. There's no need for him to say anything. I already know what he has planned.

I gave him a few seconds to get into position before rushing from the treeline with my gun trained on the guard on the right. Surprised by my appearance, he hesitates for a moment, and I take full advantage and quickly disarm him. His partner whipped around with his rifle raised, but the cold barrel of Quinton's gun pressed against his head stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Hand it over," Quinton demanded.

The man ignored him and kept his gun aimed at me as his finger inched closer to the trigger.

"Don't you fucking dare." Quinton lowly warned, jamming his gun deeper into the man's skull. "Now, hand it over."

This time the man complied before holding his hands up in surrender.

I went over and snatched the phone from the other man as he looked on in shock.

"I-I don't have any money on me." He said as I powered down the phone and pocketed it.

Quinton and I exchanged glances at the man's assumption before he shrugged. One flash of Quinton's badge could have dispelled the man's worries, but revealing his identity wouldn't benefit us just yet. We still needed to verify if the players were even here.

"Relax," I muttered while Quinton frisked the guards. When his search came up empty, he pulled zip ties from his pocket and secured them around their wrists.

"I really don't have any. I swear." He said, turning his pants pockets inside out.

Quinton didn't pay him any mind as he led one of the guards off the path to a tree on the right side. He forced him to his knees and gagged his mouth before rejoining us.

"We're not here to rob you. We're h..." My voice trailed off as I looked more closely at the man. There was something familiar about him. Very familiar.

A deep flush spread across his pale cheeks under the intensity of my gaze as I studied him. He was a few feet shy of six feet, with hazel eyes and thinning brown locks combed over to one side. He wore a black suit with no tie, and the first two buttons of his shirt were left undone as if to give him a more casual look.

"I know you," I said as Quinton led the other guard over to sit beside his partner.

The man's eyes traveled the length of me once before he firmly shook his head. "You're mistaken, my friend. We've never met." He adamantly denied.

"I'm sure we have," I said, struggling to recall where we had crossed paths. I never forgot a face. My job depended on me recognizing them on the fly in case they were a potential threat to my client. "What's your name?"

"Barney Kramden."

The name didn't spark an ounce of recollection. I looked at his face again, and an image suddenly popped into my head. He was right. We hadn't officially met. Well, not...

"Nah, not face to face." I finished my thought aloud.

"How do you know him?" Quinton questioned, coming to stand beside me.

"He's the guy that paid Darius to follow and take pictures of Abella."

As soon as her name left my lips, his back stiffened, and his eyes briefly darted to his left.

Quinton noticed his reaction but didn't comment on it. "Really?"

"Yep."

"Well, it seems we're on the right track."

I nodded. "Yeah, but I'm curious as to why he's here."

"I'm on vacation." Barney grinned widely, showing off yellowish teeth while gesturing to our surroundings.

"Vacation? That's bullshit!" I yanked him closer by the collar of his shirt. "Tell us the truth!"

"I-I-I'm here to see the final round of The Hunt."

My hand tightened around the fabric while wishing it was his neck. "You were invited to see this shit show?!"

"Y-yeah, me and a few others."

That explained the presence of the men we saw moments ago, and now we could fully use it to our advantage.

A smile crept across my face as I released him and smoothed the creases in his shirt. "Well, I would hate for you to be late to the party. So here's what we're going to do. You're going to take us inside with you and pretend we're your bodyguards. And if you even think about alerting your pals, you're dead."

His eyes cut to the right, seeking out the guards but not before I saw the fear reflected in his gaze. Once he realized he was alone and they couldn't help, he looked back at me.

"They'll never fall for that." He said, his voice slightly wavering toward the end. "You boys might as well give up now because you won't even make it past the entrance."

It would be a lie if I said I didn't have a little doubt. How could I not?

Quinton on the other hand didn't seem the least bit fazed. Or maybe he was just better at hiding his emotions than I thought. Either way, we were still both willing to risk it.

"Shut up and get moving!" Quinton ordered with a hard shove on Barney's back that set him into motion.

The walk back to the compound was short, but my nervousness made it feel twice as long. The butt of my gun dug into my sweat-slick back every step of the way.

Once we left the protection of the treeline, every head turned our way. My heart rate spiked as their curious gazes swept over us. As soon as they saw Barney, the majority looked away, except for the guards at the entrance. When we stood before them, they granted us entry immediately. There were no words exchanged or further actions required. Barney's mere presence seemed to be all the security clearance we needed.

Despite the influx of guards securing the perimeter, only one awaited our presence inside. He stood off to the side with a welcoming smile that produced crinkles around his dark brown eyes.

"Mr. Kramden, if you will follow me. I will bring you to the others." He said.

"A-alright." Barney stammered, taking a handkerchief from his pocket and blotting his sweaty face.

The guard eyed him warily for a few seconds but refrained from asking any questions. Instead, he turned and guided us to the elevator at the other end.

The dull glow of the sconces lining the walls set a dark and ominous mood throughout the narrow corridor.

There were two solid steel doors with keypad locks on either side of the hallway that raised all kinds of questions in my mind. Like whether Abella was on the other side or not? And if she wasn't, what could they possibly be hiding that would need that level of security?

Knowing the answers wouldn't come any time soon brought my attention back to the mission at hand.

As we neared the end of the passage, another two doors came into view. They flanked the elevator on each side, but unlike the previous two, there was no keypad, only a sign labeling them as staircases.

The guard led us past them to the elevator, and after calling it, we rode it down three floors.

The floor we exited onto seemed almost a carbon copy of the previous. Except this one held more locked doors. All of them piqued my curiosity as to what they contained. But whatever there might be, we wouldn't have time to find out. Our objective was to rescue the players and get out. That's it. There would be no side trips.

However, the man sweating up a storm in his expensive suit could be a hitch in our plans. His nervousness poured off him in waves and was sure to raise the man's suspicions. Again.

"It's airing now!" Timothy's voice came through loud and clear in the earpiece, making my blood run cold.

Shit.

Out of all the words in the human language, I never thought those would be the ones I dreaded and feared.

"They're in some kind of lab."

Where the hell is that?

Quinton and I looked around as if a sign would miraculously materialize before our eyes, proclaiming the place we sought.

It didn't, and time was steadily ticking. There was no telling when the first kill would occur.

"I see...I see a stairwell outside the lab, but I can't tell what floor they're on."

I turn around at once and head back to the elevator.

"Sir! Sir!" The guard shouted at my back before his voice disappeared altogether.

A glance over my shoulder revealed Quinton subduing him with a chokehold.

Seeing he had the situation under control, I continued onward. Not long afterward, a black streak zipped past the tiny window embedded in the door, making me break out into a run.

"Do it now!" I shouted the order to Ken.

⚫⚫⚫⚫⚫⚫⚫⚫

Thank you for reading!❤

1-27-23