The Astro van was parked on top of a hill. Krasko was in the back sleeping like a baby at
least that was what Pone was hoping. Drugs and alcohol were a bad combination. As a
precaution, he used what the police use when not using hand-cuffs to bind Krasko’s
ankles and wrist.
Pone was focused on the Four Tower Inn. Now paying the price for lack of interest, but
still livable. A lot of these type of motels dwell outside of Retro. Red sounded nervous
when giving directions; she sounded scared and four eyes and tower in the same sentence
and then the phone went dead. He hoped nothing bad happened to her, but one thing for
sure he never knew Red to be rattled. She being part of a crime family made her battled
tested and so he knew she was in trouble.
Pone shook his head; why was she out here of all places in the first place? He didn’t
have time to ponder that, but from what he saw he was about to walk into a trap. Pone
moved the van to the edge of the front entrance. He was glad that he changed his
wardrobe and not driving Lucille. Pone walked in the archway entrance. The landscape was
and eye-sore, the moldy pool would have been a hot-bed for Mosquito if it had water and
not for the cool weather. Turned over patio tables and chairs made paradise a dump. Again
what the hell was she doing out here?
The door wasn’t locked, but he saw an out to lunch sign on the counter near a bell. By
the looks of things, why would the desk clerk even return. Pone wasn’t big on size or
square feet of buildings or whether any patrons were occupying the rooms. He had
already spotted Red’s Mercedes near the other side of the complex, but had to study the
situation before entering the place.
Pone took the stairs to the balcony to the tower on his left. He assumed the East Tower.
When Pone reached the tower, he played the drunken wanderer before he could knock on
the door he heard noise. Behind the door an average height man, thin, balding thick beard with
gray strands faced him. His body looked military, but the discipline of staying in shape was
disappearing as age took over. Pone was relieved the man didn’t have his gun exposed,
instead it was still holstered inside his jacket pocket.
“Get lost pal!”
Pone staggered against the wall head down. “Just need to sleep this off.”
“What the fuck? Do I look the person who gives a shit?”
Pone coughed. “Saw somebody up here and thought you were the clerk.”
“Well, I ain’t and if you don’t want your ass handed to you, I suggest you get
your ass outta here. He pulled back his jacket showing Pone his gun.
Pone fell draping himself on thick beard..
“What the fuck?” said thick beard.
He tried throwing pone off him. Pone hung on, and the two fell into the tower room. Thick beard
got to his feet first. Pone on one knee slipped out his razor, spun and slit the throat of thick
beard who had just placed his hand on his gun. He fell like a tree. A voice on the hand radio
“Bruce! Bruce! You okay?”
Pone grabbed the radio. “Four,” he said in a muffled voice. Told the asshole to leave,
had to put him down.”
“See anybody else?”
“Just the guy you took care of,”
Radio went silent, and Pone took the short stairs to the patio where he saw a scoped sniper
rifle. A SIG SHR 970 with a silencer. Pone used the scope to check on the other would be
assassins. West side assassin was all business focused on the outside only; his back turned
giving view of a round melon in Pone’s cross hairs. Pone checked the rifle, and it was loaded.
An explosion of crimson erupted from the melon. Two down and two to go. Pone felt like
Race Bannon from the Johnny Quest episode where Race sat in a tree taking out the bad
guys with a tranquilizer rifle. The difference for Pone was his rifle was built for the long good-bye.
Pone aimed diagonally, the other assassin was reading a girly magazine with his right shoulder jerking
up and down. Where did Crowe find these guys, thought Pone. A bullet through a pair of big boobs
ended the personal hand job.
Pone hoped he went down happy. Now for the last tower, when Pone looked through the
scope he saw a scope looking back at him.
Both rifles fired.
Where the hell was that son of a bitch, Pone?, thought Crowe.
“You gave your man every way, but he should’ve been here by now.”
“You in that much of a hurry to kill us?” asked Red.
Crowe snorted. “Actually, I am.”
“You sick bastard.”
Crowe took out his cell. He wanted his men to communicate with radios, but he and
Bruce by cell. When he got Bruce’s voice mail, a shade of concern came over Crowe’s face.
“Shut up bitch!” Crowe checked the tracer signal on his phone. The signal was getting
closer to the room.
“What the hell?” Crowe motioned Red away from the door. He peaked through the Venetian
blinds. The Astro van pulled up.
Crowe was bewildered. “What the hell is going on? Who is this guy? He’s not one of my
Red took advantage of Crowe being confused. Moving with the grace of a ballerina and
ferocity of a lioness. A hard thrust to the spine stiffened Crowe like a board. She grasped his
gun arm holding it as straight as a pole twisting it. A sharp open hand blow to Crowe’s neck
followed by a Vulcan style neck pinch grip to the back of his neck forcing his face into a
violent encounter with her left knee. A sickening crack and blood came from his nose. Red
spun Crowe around flipping him on his back to a ferocious heel stomp to the side of his
face and a final twist of his wrist forced the gun from his hand.
“Come on in, Pony,” shouted Red.
When Pone entered, he saw Wonder Woman rescuing Steve Trevor. Pone took a syringe
from his pocket.. He also saw a semi-conscience Crowe on the floor with a bloody nose.
Pone swallowed hard. “Is he … “
“He’s useless to you dead,” said Red.
Pone knelt down and inserted the needle into Crowe’s neck. He went limp. “I’ll
take it from here,”
Red released her grip on Crowe and untied Maxwell.
Pone threw Crowe over his shoulder. “You got to clean up on all four towers and I
don’t know when who’s running this place will be back. Probably on a long burger
“I got this, Pony,” said Red.
Pone nodded. “A long drive ahead of me,”