«Before we start, I want you to burn something into your head. Something I'm sure you already know. I am not a hero, nor am I a saint. I am simply smarter—a man who will do whatever it takes to achieve what I want.»
"Bang!"
The gunshot echoed down the corridor, louder than it had any right to be.
Sahara's body jerked against the floor before her scream could finish forming, the back of her head blooming red against the stark white tile.
She never even got a chance to speak, but Mr. Valen cared not for her; rather, his breath had become heavy, a pale sheen forming on his face.
He was running out of time, his body was fighting to rest, but he could not rest now, he was so close, the plan had already started.
"Let's go," Mr. Valen suddenly said with a rushed grunt surprising the men who were still looking around, getting acquainted with their surroundings.
Nevertheless, the men followed.
Footsteps thundered behind him, six men, including Dog Head, dressed identically in dark, dark tactical gear, too much for the job.
Each of them wielded a modified assault rifle, their boots clicking with precision, as they marched through the hallways passing vault after vault, the white fluorescent lights flickering above them.
As they moved, Dog Head handed Mr. Valen, who looked pale, one of his two duffel bags, the full one, "Hold this."
The bag was heavy, prompting him to look inside, and he was shocked when he saw coils of synthetic wire, mouth gags, stun cuffs, chemical sealant, and more tools meant for quick subjugation.
Mr. Valen wanted to say something until they came across their first staff, a man wearing blue overalls, with a broom in his hand.
Upon seeing the fully armed crew, he froze, his breath hitching in his throat as he stepped back.
Dog Head wasted no time, "down nigga," he yelled pointing his gun at the ground.
The worker immediately fell to the ground lest he be blasted full of holes, his breaths coming in sharp exhalations, "I'm s-sorry, p-please, please don't shoot me."
"The fuck you whining about, Val, tie the nigga up," Dog Head said to Mr. Valen who wanted no time, using the tools at his disposal to bound the man before him which was easy since he was already on the floor.
In the next moment, after he had sealed his mouth, Dog Head took charge, barking out orders without stopping.
"You two, you pull up to the management floor, secure the GM of this place."
The two apostles on the right peeled off immediately, heading for the elevator.
"You two, head to the security office. I want every eye in this building off, we don't want any heat from the cops, capish?"
The next pair immediately nodded and sprinted down a corridor lit by red lights only leaving Dog Head and Mr. Valen with the last man who trailed just behind, closing off the rear.
Any staff they came across was quickly subdued then bound, rinse and repeat.
They did this until they reached a familiar, door, which was that of the staff lounge.
Now that the moment was here this door did spark some unknown emotions.
Dog Head on the other hand did not waste time staring at the door, rather, he yanked it open, rifle raised, as he yelled while firing a few shoot, "everybody to the fucking ground."
"Ahhh," panicked yells mixed with the deafening roar of the assault rifle, and in the next moment, everyone hit the ground.
But the rest of the people in the room were not of their concern, rather, they were looking for one person.
It was Sebastian, the only one with a level one key card.
"Three, tie these corporate slaves up, Val, you give Three the bag and help me find this Sebastain guy," Dog Head barked instantly taking control of the situation once more.
«For a hooligan, he works well.»
Heeding Dog Head's words, Mr. Valen smiled and turned to a man who was trembling on the floor, and with bold steps, he walked up to him.
He noticed him immediately when they entered the room.
Sebastain had been sitting like a bored animal on one of the worn faux-leather couches, coffee in one hand and a stale sandwich in the other, both of which now lay on the ground, along with him.
Amazingly, he did not spill the coffee, which gave Mr. Valen a small idea, which was not valuable to his cause, but was out of sheer pettiness.
Walking up to Sebastain, he squatted, his eyes narrowed as he asked with a wide smile, "How are you doing, buddy?"
Dog Head, intrigued by the little show, raised a brow and observed while the third apostle was busy tying people up.
Sebastian looked up slowly, his breath trembling as he registered Mr. Valen's face, and when he did his eyes widened.
"Y-you," he stuttered before asking, a dumbfounded expression on his face, "who are you?"
"Stand up," Mr. Valen commanded instead, allowing Sebastain to get on his feet before saying, "In my time here, you've been very nice to me."
"Y-yeah, I make it a point to treat people with respect," Sebastain intoned.
"Yeah like when you stole my engagement ring?" Mr. Valen joked, his brows raised.
Hearing these words, Sebastian's face paled in shock as he scrambled to defend himself, "I-I'm sorry, I was-"
"I forgive you-" Mr. Valen responded, the look on his face blank as he dragged the key card from Sebastain's waist then stepped back, but something was wrong; there was a chill to his words, something unfinished.
"Thank you," Sebastain said, his tone short of joyful, but-
"Bang!"
Dog Head fired at him without hesitation after receiving a small nod from Mr. Valen.
Sebastian's chest exploded inward, his blood spilling like bile, and as he fell backward.
Simultaneously, as he fell, Mr. Valen's voice sounded out finishing his statement, "is what I would have said if I were a hero. Unfortunately, I believe in retribution."
«Do forgive my ugliness, but you must understand, for that ring, before I awakened, I worked hard for it, I rarely responded well to see things I worked so hard for taken from me.»
The staff in the room all cried, groaned, or whimpered in fear, but no one cared; rather, Mr. Valen raised the key card with Level One Access for his associate to see.
Dog Head gave a satisfied grunt. "Good, haha, you're as crazy as I am, let's step."
By now, the third apostle was done tying up the other eight staff in the room, but they did not leave just yet; rather, they waited for Dog Hea,d, who was busy.
Dog Head pressed a finger to his earpiece, revealing the fact that he could communicate with his other men.
With furrowed brows, he asked his men via comms. "Security?"
"Shii," A voice crackled back. "It's clear boss, the virus did work, no one saw us enter, we have one body."
"I see," Dog Head hummed while glancing at Mr. Valen, giving him a nod of approval.
In the next moment, he tapped his comms, switching the line, "How's the GM?"
"He's been subdued, the fucker can't even lie down straight because of his massive belly," the men laughed.
"Perfect." Dog Head responded, his eyes gleaming under the mask as he turned Mr. Valen while keeping his comms open, "We're moving to the vault, you guys stay on standby and prepare to move out."
They didn't wait.
With Mr. Valen in the lead, they made their way deeper into the GPV, card in hand.
Dog Head stuck close behind, the remaining masked man guarding their backs.
And like before, they subdued anyone who came in their path.
As they moved, doors opened with soft mechanical clicks, the Level One ID working exactly as expected, but Mr. Valen was still uneasy, his hand moving to the pistol tucked securely in his clothes.
They passed through a research wing and through cryo-storage until they reached a reinforced corridor.
A fingerprint panel greeted them, followed by an old-school key card insert, as Mr. Valen slid the card in.
The containment vault opened with a soft hiss, pushing a stream of cold mist in all directions the smell of medicine strong.
"This is it, boys," Dog Head muttered excitedly before telling the third apostle, "Wait here, you're lookout."
With that, both he and Mr. Valen stepped inside, their steps firm.
Inside, the chamber was much colder, cleaner still.
Additionally, it was lit in a pale blue light that made it feel more like a forbidden tomb than a lab.
Before them, ten vials floated in suspension, each within its own pressurized container, each labeled in deep red one of which was labeled:
BX-07 Type: Foreign Hemolytic Strain Origin: Veridianan Empire.
The substance shimmered faintly in the light. It was not red, not entirely; rather, it shifted between colors subtly, like oil dancing on water, alive, furious, wrong.
But all Dog Head saw was money, and so he stuffed said vials into his bag.
But Mr. Valen was different, he was looking for something and he found it, a large vial holding ten pounds of a pitch back substance, it was labeled:
AN-15075-HX Type: Condensed Blood, Origin Thornak Empire.
Upon seeing this, Mr. Valen did not step forward but back, his gaze distant, reverent.
The pulse in his neck quickened, though his face showed nothing, he was excited.
"This is it," Mr. Valen said to Dog Head, his voice low. "This stuff is worth ten million Vals on the black market."
As he spoke, he pointed to it and upon registering it, Dog Head's eyes widened slightly behind the mask just for a second, then his hand shoved Valen aside.
"Move." He yelled before rushing towards the large vile, but just when he was close.
"Bang!"
A loud sound could be heard as Mr. Valen shot, putting a bullet through Dog Head's brain, his form slumping down.