Alena’s Revenge by K.A Knight
Chapter Twenty-One
Alena
While Spider is working, Idris takes me downstairs using the same elevator. I don’t know what to think about some random woman looking for me, but Idris trusts these people, so I guess I should too, especially if they get me one step closer to those who took me in the first place.
One step closer to my revenge. It’s all that’s keeping me going. Moving.
My body feels better, strong almost. Whatever the doctor gave me in those pills and shots is doing the trick. My vision is clear, my hearing is better, and I have no pain at all. We don’t stop at the same floor we came in on, no, the elevator opens into a chandelier lit hallway with wooden panels and deep maroon carpet. It screams expensive luxury. We pass a door that’s partially open, and inside, I see what looks like body armour… and suits.
What the fuck is this place?
“Is this assassin headquarters?” I hiss.
Idris looks at me and smirks. “Headquarters? I guess. We have hundreds of locations around the world. It’s a safe zone for people like us to restock and rest. We can also connect with a member of the Clergy who is part of the leadership, like Donald.”
“Shit, this is badass,” I reply as we stop at a gold double door at the end. He swings it open, and I shit you not, a man with slicked back hair, garbed in a three-piece penguin suit, with a beard down to his shoulders, turns. He’s tall and skinny, but there is something about him that sets me on edge.
It could be the rows upon rows of weapons in this fucking room. There are LED lit tables with guns, swords, knives, and a fucking rocket launcher perched on them. Along each wall is every weapon you could ever imagine, from grenades to fucking garrottes.
“Mr. Boogeyman, how lovely to see you again,” he greets. “May I be of assistance?” His voice is deep but smooth.
“Hello, Priest,” Idris responds, before leaning towards me and whispering, “Don’t look too closely at him. He’s one of the best assassins of our time. He retired, and Donald made him head of arms here. He used to be the right-hand man of the Clergy. He knows more secrets than you could imagine, not to mention he could kill us before we blink.” He straightens, and addresses Priest once more. “I need weapons, lots of weapons.”
“Very good, sir. Will you be starting with party favours or the main course?” he replies instantly, moving his hands behind his back.
“All. Pack up some specials for dessert too. Semis, rifles, and handguns mainly. Big calibre with stopping power and plenty of extra mags. I’ll choose some of my own as well.” Idris nods.
“Very good. I will get right on that. If you need help, don’t hesitate to alert me.” He nods and turns, grabs two large black duffel bags, and methodically begins loading them with God knows what.
“Pick your weapons,” Idris tells me. “I will put you under my membership,” he declares and walks away, leaving me gawking and wondering where to start.
Biting my lip, I feign confidence and head to the first wall of guns I see. There are big automatic weapons and rifles, but at the bottom are handguns, and I run my fingers across them until I stop at a small black one at the end.
I jump when I feel hands on my hips, large hands as a hard, hot body presses against my back. I shiver from his proximity, my whore pussy demanding his attention, but we have more important things to do.
“Do you like that one? It’s a Beretta, a good gun,” he whispers, moving his hands from my hips and up my arms to where I’m rotating the gun. “Steady without too much recoil. It’s a good choice and fits your hand.”
I nod, and he leans closer, running his nose along my skin. “Good girl.” He moves away, and I take a desperate breath. “We will take as many knives and close contact weapons as you can pack, as well as all the small calibre handguns there. Give me a few remote explosives too, and a rifle, you know my preferences.”
“Very good. I will have it waiting for you at reception. Will you be needing transport? I can contact the garage for you.”
“Yes, give me shielded storm power,” Idris replies as he grabs me and pulls me to his side.
“Of course, it will be done.” Idris turns and pulls me to the door, but the man’s voice stops us. “It is a pleasure, as always, sir. May I say it’s a joy to see you back?”
“Thank you,” Idris responds and pulls me back out into the corridor.
If Idris fears Priest, and he respects Idris and his skills, just how much of a fucking terror is the man holding my hand?
* * *
He makesme stop at the tailor as well. A curvy, beautiful woman who’s dressed like a fifties pin-up girl runs it. She makes me feel strong and sure and doesn’t blink over my scars as she finds what I need. I end up with a vest as well as braces, a couple of holsters, some badass steel toed boots, and hair ties which can be used as garrottes. Over it all are some black trousers, a black tank, and a leather jacket that matches Idris’s.
She allows me to shower in the back of the shop, and after, she pins my hair up, explaining how they can be used as weapons too. All the while, Idris dresses, smirking at me when he sees me giving him a glare. He chooses black cargo trousers, a skintight black shirt, a leather jacket with matching boots, and more carriers and holsters than I can count. She doesn’t even try to help him, instead almost avoiding him, and when she looks at him, there is a glint of fear in her eyes, but she never lets it show. She’s efficient and courteous, and when she shows me how to reload a gun and throw a knife, my impression of her rises.
It seems everyone here is trained and skilled… apart from me. But that isn’t stopping me or even Idris.
Once we’re done, we go back to the penthouse where Spider and Donald are waiting for us. Spider stands behind Donald, who is seated with another cup of tea. Does this man do nothing but drink? “We have what you need,” Spider says instantly. “It won’t be easy, but then again, you like a challenge.” He smirks.
“Remember the deal, the American is ours, you can have the rest,” Donald reminds us.
Idris nods as I stand there.
“I have addresses, cars, and current locations for you. If they change, I will text you,” Spider offers and then looks at me. “Don’t die, my girl would kick my ass.”
Unsure what else to say, I just agree, and we leave with the list, riding down the elevator in silence. When we reach the garage, a black SUV is waiting for us, and when I peek in the back seat, I see the bags of weapons as well as food and water and spare clothing.
It’s everything we need to hunt people across the city.
