Chapter 111: Chapter 111: Collateral Fury
Alexander kept the barrel of his gun trained on the boss’s forehead.
His other hand already pulling the phone from his pocket.
He dialed Marcus’s number.
His eyes never leaving the trembling man in front of him.
"Marcus" said Alexander, his voice flat "We have a situation at The Iron Hide, come right now"
"On my way" said Marcus
He didn’t ask for explanations.
He knew exactly whose territory that bar was.
He knew his sister had been heading that way.
Within seconds the roar of Marcus’s yellow Corvette echoed through the dirty streets of the slums.
He drove like a maniac.
He was weaving through traffic and ignoring every red light.
The tires screeching as he pushed the sports car to its absolute limit.
Exactly ten minutes later the front door of the bar was kicked open with a violent crash.
Marcus stormed into the backroom.
He wasn’t just carrying a pistol.
He was holding a heavy black automatic combat rifle.
His eyes bloodshot and wide with raw adrenaline.
He stopped in the doorway.
He was taking in the scene.
Alexander had already taken full control.
The boss the bartender and the four thugs from the corridor were all forced onto their knees.
Their foreheads pressed flat against the damp concrete wall under the threat of Alexander’s weapon.
Marcus’s gaze immediately flicked past them to the leather couch.
Alexander had already adjusted Ashley’s clothes.
He had pulled her black underwear back up and straightened her uniform skirt to cover her.
He couldn’t hide the heavy bruise on her cheek.
It was already turning a deep ugly shade of purple.
Marcus’s breathing stopped completely for a fraction of a second.
The sight of his unconscious battered sister snapped something deep inside his brain.
It was unleashing a wave of unadulterated fury.
RAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT
The deafening roar of the automatic rifle tore through the cramped concrete room.
Marcus didn’t ask questions.
He didn’t check who had touched her and who had just been standing by.
He simply raised the barrel and opened fire.
He was unloading a hail of heavy-caliber bullets into the backs of the men lined up against the wall.
"Wait—!" yelled the boss
His head exploded against the brick before the word could fully leave his mouth.
Blood teeth and chunks of bone sprayed across the room.
The bodies jerked violently under the impact of the gunfire.
They were collapsing onto each other in a grotesque heap of flesh.
The bartender and the thugs were shredded in a matter of seconds.
Their screams cut short by the relentless metallic clatter of the rifle.
Alexander stepped back.
His eyes narrowing as the hot brass casings clinked against the floorboards.
He knew Marcus would be angry.
He hadn’t expected his friend to completely lose his mind and commit a total massacre.
He was wiping out every single person in the building without a second thought.
Marcus lowered the smoking rifle.
His chest heaving as he stared at the bloody pile of corpses.
The expression on his face completely feral.
Alexander gripped Ashley’s shoulders.
He was lifting her limp body from the couch.
He draped her arm over his neck and held her tightly against his side.
Her head rolling back against his chest.
"Get out of here, Marcus" said Alexander, his eyes scanning the bloody mess on the floor "This is going to get ugly fast"
Marcus didn’t move.
He stood over the bodies.
The barrel of his combat rifle still smoking.
His face completely pale but entirely devoid of regret.
"No" said Marcus, his voice chillingly calm as he reached into his tactical vest "I have to clean this up first"
He pulled out a secure encrypted smartphone and dialed a direct high-clearance number for the TMC logistics department.
He held the device to his ear.
His eyes locked on the pool of blood widening across the concrete.
The line clicked.
"TMC Dispatch, state your clearance and request" said a cold synthesized voice on the other end
"Agent Marcus Vane, Clearance Level 4" stated Marcus, his tone tight "I need an immediate Class-A cleaning service at The Iron Hide bar in the lower district, total erasure"
"Standby, Agent IV, checking sector logs" said the operator
A brief pause filled the line before the voice returned.
"This sector is currently outside our active operational zone for standard cleanup, local law enforcement response is estimated within twelve minutes, we cannot deploy resources without proper authorization" said the operator
"I am burning a Tier-3 special operational waiver" commanded Marcus, his jaw tightening "Deduct it from my quarterly hazard bonus, use the tactical override code: Victor-Niner-Zulu"
The sound of rapid typing came through the speaker.
"Override code accepted, Agent Vane, Tier-3 waiver processed, a cleanup crew is being dispatched to your current GPS coordinates, ETA six minutes, are there any survivors or witnesses on site?" asked the operator
"None" stated Marcus, looking down at the shredded corpses
"Understood, ensure the perimeter is clear of your own biometric data before exit, the clean team will handle the rest, do you require any medical transport for assets?" asked the operator
"No" said Marcus, his eyes flicking to Ashley as Alexander held her up "I’m handling the transport myself, just get the crew here"
"Roger that, service confirmed, we expect you" said the operator
The call disconnected with a sharp beep.
Marcus slid the phone back into his vest.
He was finally turning his head to look at Alexander.
"The clean team is on the way" murmured Marcus, adjusting his grip on the heavy rifle "Take her, I’ll be right behind you as soon as I wipe the entrance cameras"
Alexander didn’t say a word as he carried Ashley out toward the yellow Corvette.
A cold chill ran down his spine.
He hadn’t known that TMC offered that kind of high-clearance cleanup service.
What truly unsettled him was Marcus’s absolute calm throughout the entire phone call.
From the cold precision in his tone and the fluid way he handles the override codes it was completely obvious that this wasn’t the first time Marcus had slaughtered a room full of people and called a cleaning crew to erase his mess.
