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| The Boss's Daughter, Part 3 | Started by: Deadpool on Apr 21, '09 09:56 |
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(This is the final installment of "The Boss's Daughter.) As the fire of tommy guns echoed downstairs, I quickly looked for an escape. Realizing I had none, I pulled out my .38 and prepared myself for the worst. The gunfire, however, stopped and I heard tires squealing as a car left the restaraunt. I slowly opened my door and crept out into the hallway. The two Chinese girls that had treated my wounds were huddled together at the far end of the hall, shuddering. I could see smoke and dust coming up the stairway. I headed downstairs. The once stylish Chinese Restaraunt was trashed. Bullet holes dotted the walls. A patron was among the dead, his face now soaking in his egg drop soup. The floor was littered with broken plates, noodles, rice, and a dead waiter. The old man was nowhere to be found. They had taken him. Luckily, I had a pretty good idea who was responsible. I went back upstairs. Trying to ask the two girls where some weapons were was a scene. I showed them my gun, they screamed. "No, no, no. I NEED a GUN." Right, like speaking slowly and loudly was going to make them understand English. They shook their heads and I tried again. "Me. Me?" I pointed at myself. "Yes?" They nodded. "Ok. Me WANT GUN." I pointed at the gun. They screamed. "No, no, no. Me?" They nodded. "Gun." Screams. "Forget it." I turned and started looking for myself. The bedroom that I was in had nothing. That left two rooms upstairs. One was evidently the girls' room, it was useless. The third room evidently belonged to the old man. There were two katana blades hanging on the wall. "Katanas are Japanese, moron," I mumbled, as I pulled one from its decorative scabbard. I started looking through drawers and finally found a shotgun and a box of shells. "Great. This should be a blast." I loaded the shotgun, tucked my .38 in my pocket, and grabbed the katana. The girls screamed again as I walked out into the hall. I shook my head and walked down the stairs and out the front door. The walk back to Fat Charlie's bar didn't take as long this time. I decided to take the back way in and surprise them. The back of the bar had one large garage door and a ramp leading into it. Outside was a guy with a tommy gun, smoking a cigarette. His back was turned to me, so I ran him through with the katana. He fell forward and I had to put my foot on his back to pull the blade out. I entered through the door next to the garage door and found myself in a small motor pool. I immediately recognized our truck. The cases of booze were still in the back. I could drive it out now, but then we still wouldn't be even. I wasn't here for the booze, anyway. I found the door that led to the bar front. Fat Charlie and four or five of his guys were roughing up the old man. Fat Charlie was sitting on his chest, laughing. "You like that old man? You like it when I fart in your face? Broken any ribs yet?" The fat man kept laughing, until I flung the door open and blasted two of his guys with the double barrel shotgun. They went down as the third and fourth went for their guns. I ducked under a table as the first volley of bullets came my way. I rolled out from under the table, .38 in hand, and shot one in the chest, the other in the gut. Both went down. "That leaves me and you, fatty. And we need to talk. Get up. NOW." Fat Charlie got off the old man. "Go home. Thank you for your help." The old man nodded to me and walked out the front door, holding his ribs. "Now, Charlie..." "The truck's in the back, man. Sorry about this deal, I just thought that..." "That maybe I'd go kill your innocent stepfather? No questions asked? Maybe you'd luck out and not have to do it yourself?" "Um, yeah," he said, looking around, nervously. "Let me tell you a story. It's a story about a truck full of booze, headed to New York City. It left L.A. about a month ago. Yes, the truck in your garage. It's crew was shot, execution style, and left to rot. There were three men, the boss's cousin and nephew, and the driver. The fourth member of the crew was a girl dressed as a man. She was my boss's thirteen year old daughter, going to visit her aunt in New York. They were all executed on your order." "Honest, man, I didn't know there was a girl in there, I didn't know, I didn't know!" "She's probably lucky your men didn't realize that she was a girl, knowing you. This one is for her, Charlie." I raised my .38, touching the barrel to his forehead. "Wait, wait, wa..." The sound of the revolver firing was unusually calming amidst the carnage surrounding us. The bullet went in his forehead and exited the back of his head, taking most of his brain with it. His body flopped to the floor and I made my exit. Sirens wailed in the distance. I went back to the restaraunt and spent the night there. I refused the company of the two Chinese girls and went to sleep right away. The next morning, I left early and caught the first flight home. When I told the boss, he closed his eyes against his tears and thanked me for my work. She was thirteen, like a little sister to me. When she was little, I was new to the organization. She followed me around like a puppy. I carried her around, kept an eye on her for the boss, even stayed to babysit on occasion. On the day of her funeral, I cried with the boss's family. Now, even though her death had been avenged, she was still gone. The boss's daughter, my adopted little sister. |
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Really touching ending, bro. Could touch even the coldest of hearts. Congrats. Hope to see another around here soon. |
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| Reply by: Skitzo at Apr 24, '09 00:04 | |
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