Vindication

I had failed twice before. This time, I would not be stopped.

I opened my closet and moved the various articles hanging there aside. My selection was vast, but most of it useless for the circumstances. I needed to do the job quickly and quietly. A simple blade, leather gloves, and a silenced glock. If the time came where I'd need anything louder, I would already be a dead man.

I stepped out into the dim light. As the crow flies, it would be five minutes on foot, but we all know that there is no straight path to Burnham. A twisted network of dark alleys filled with pimps, drug pushers, and real estate agents lay between me and my objective. Being 6'5", most of the scum know enough not to try anything with me, and the few who don't are never worth mentioning beyond the fact that it was a waste of my fucking time. I had half an hour to go and lateness was not an option. No one will miss them. Its entirely likely that no one will recognize them

The door. Those who were welcome at Burnham could simply give their name and get on through. I needed to trounce the pigfucker who stood outside it. Problem was, he was packing, and heavily at that. One of my general rules of thumb is not to pick fights with large men who have me astonishingly outgunned. But I needed to get through. Furthermore, I needed to get through without him firing a shot. I wasn't seeing a silencer. Come to think of it, I wasn't seeing a clip. This was almost too easy. I stood in front of the ignorant fuck and put my gun to his head. He dry-fired his weapon, and I briefly enjoyed the look on his face before making it look alltogether more unnatural.

I was inside at last. The place was teeming with hookers with various levels of contamination. The vending machines accepted 100 dollar bills, but then again it only said Cheetos on the bag.

Some sorry sonofabitch who was given the Sisyphic task of cleaning the floors (I'd prefer rolling a boulder up a hill) had the nerve to ask me who the fuck I was. Clearly a new guy. A quick blow to the head and he flew face-first into the crotch of some passed-out whore with foam around the mouth. I might have killed him, but I didn't have time to check. I hope for his sake I did.

a man sat behind a counter at the far wall. I strode over and made my request.

"Fuck you"

I buried my blade into the counter and repeated my request. He made a grab for it and I put a bullet in his palm.

A pair of hands grabbed me from behind.

Strong hands. Around my throat. The fucker behind the counter took the knife in his good hand and lunged at me. I kicked him in the kneecap, and he lost his balance and fell into me, knocking me and the scumsucker who was strangling me to the floor. The knife got me in the side, nothing serious. I picked up my glock from where I'd dropped it and shot my unseen assailant in the foot. His grip on me loosened, and I broke free. another shot and he was done.

Which left me with the man who was going to give me what I wanted. I pointed the gun at his crotch.

"One ticket to the 9:45 Sin City"

"Here, theater 6 on your left! Just point that thing someplace else!"

"Sure thing." I put two in his head.

All done and with five minutes to spare.