The Killing Dance

A.N.: This story is ©1999, all rights reserved. Copying or use of representation of words, and/or subject line is strictly prohibited. This story has gone through major re-editing, so most of the material is new. Also, I’m quite aware that I also have a poem titled the same as this, so please, indulge me. This isn’t the same. Now…on to the story. Blah, blah, blah. Enjoy.

The Killing Dance

By C.N. Sweatt

The rapid tattoo of the gun sounded once more, spraying the cold metal across the room. I closed my eyes, trying to remember what had happened to the gun that Gavin had given to me. To my despair, I think it was lying on the bed in the next room. It had been making me nervous so I had left it there. I wasn’t one for guns. What could I say?  I wasn’t a violent person. I hated guns. They hurt people.

Though, someone did once say, "Guns don't kill. Stupid fools with guns kill." And I was surrounded by a very large group of stupid fools--stupid fools who were out to kill me.

                Hating guns was probably going to get me killed…

                A bullet whizzed past, chipping a large chunk of wood off of the top of the wet bar I was crouched behind and embedded itself in the wall in front of me, causing me to jerk farther back against the paneling. I could hear the other bodyguards returning fire. I saw one of the older ones, Manzeni, slumped against a chair across the room. There was blood leaking down his shirt from a large hole in his chest. He wasn't moving. 

                I swallowed hard, turning from the sickening sight and leaned away from the bar, edging myself forward to peer around the corner. The room was a mess. The furniture was destroyed; full of holes, and most of it was lying on its side or in splinters. Two guards were still alive, one hiding behind whatever protection he could find.

The other, of course, was Gavin and I recognized his blonde head moving towards me. His face was grim as he inched towards the wet bar I was hiding at.

                He got about nine feet from me before he ran out of cover to hide behind. That was about the width of the room. Gavin's ice blue eyes glanced at me. He pulled a clip out of his back pockets and got rid of the empty one in the gun. He shoved the clip in and did something else to the gun that I couldn’t see. After that he paused, took a quick survey of the room and started to fire over the metal cabinet he was hiding behind. He crouched back down as several bullets punched into the cabinet in return fire. He didn’t even flinch with the hits. He fired back once again.

                I watched his eyes and right then knew what he was going to do. I wanted to yell at him to stop but he was already coming in a sort of crouching-run. I flattened myself against the bar as much as I could as he dove over onto the floor next to me.

                He grabbed my upper arm and ordered, "Move."

                Gavin started to drag me so I had to crawl over him or else I was going to fall right onto his lap. He placed me on his other side and glanced over at me.

                "Give me the gun I gave you." He commanded, checking to see how much ammunition he had left.

                "I...don’t have it." I lowered my head and tried not to blush at my own stupidity but I could already feel the heat rising in my face.

                He looked back at me, a frown forming. "I thought I told you to keep it on you, in case something should happen?"

                "You did. I just...didn’t think something would happen." I cringed at my pathetic answer.

                Gavin looked at me, something crossing his normally expressionless face. Was that disappointment I saw? “You should know better than that Keia.”

                "I know. I’m sorry." I apologized. Here he was, trying to protect me, risking his life for me…and I was more of a liability to him than he first realized. Stupid of him. Stupid of both of us. Of course, Gavin didn’t risk his life for anyone, unless there was money involved, of course. Okay, okay. So, I was paying money or at least…my father was…but it wasn’t as much money as it would have been if he had been paid to take me out.

                Yeah. To take me out. To finish me off. To kill me.

                See, Gavin was a hit man. Actually, Gavin wasn’t his name. It was an alias he used, a bodyguard-for-hire. I wasn’t even really sure what his real name was. I don’t really remember the first time I had met him…I think it was in Nicaragua. I was sixteen, if I remember right. I am the daughter of Ambassador Jervis Eastani, and I happened to attract danger like a moth to a candle flame. This might be more to the fact, though, that my father was head of a very prime piece of real estate in Europe that was situated on both sides of a channel used for merchant and travel businesses.

Truthfully, he had been hired to kill me the first time we had met. However, he wasn’t the only one who had taken the contract and he didn’t really take well to someone else hunting his so-to-speak “game.” So, one day, he just decided that if he protected me, he got to kill a lot more people…and get paid for it. Not to mention, he had my father duped from the beginning. Now, he was my “official” bodyguard.

Don’t think that both of us, the “hunter” and the “prey”, didn’t see the irony in this arrangement. Hell, it still made a humorous glint enter his eyes even today.

That would have been four years ago. Four years of trying to teach me a little common sense, make me something more than somebody’s cannon fodder, right?

                I realized suddenly that it had gone silent and the shooting had stopped. It was eerie and I didn’t like it. Gavin noticed it too.

                I opened my mouth to ask something but Gavin clapped a hand over it quickly, and put his index finger to his mouth. He slowly lowered his hand and sat there not moving, just listening to the silence build. He then turned, onto his knees, and quickly peered over the bar. He came back down quickly.

                "Hal?" He shouted to the room, eyes staring straight ahead. "Hal!"

                There was no answer.

                He started to look around behind the bar. His gaze stopped on something behind me and he reached over my shoulder and grabbed a few bottles full of alcohol. I took the moment to get his attention, mouthing my question as to what had just happened. Gavin just shook his head and plucked a dirty dish towel from the rack on a cabinet and started to rip it into three separate pieces.

                He shoved each piece into one of the three bottles and let the alcohol seep into the cloth. Finally, I understood what he was doing and I turned, searching for a lighter. Broken glass grated against my bare knees as I began my search and I gritted my teeth, knowing I shouldn’t have worn the short blue dress. There was nothing underneath the bar but I spotted a cheap, red plastic lighter sitting on the top of the bar. I didn’t want to have to reach up there. But I forced myself to move, darting at the lighter and missing it but it fell next to me anyway. I snatched the lighter up and turned around.

                That was when I heard scuffling and three shots were fired. I went still. I heard Hal’s voice, the last bodyguard, and he started screaming in pain. The screaming went on, drawing to a higher pitch before the sickening sound of bones snapping moved through the quiet room, the screams abruptly cut off. Had they just broken his neck?

I dropped nearer to the ground and scooted closer to Gavin, fear worming its way through my stomach. “What was that?”

                He stopped searching his pockets for a moment, not looking at me, voice contemplative. “Hal’s dead.”

                “But-” I started.

                “Forget about him, Keia. There’s nothing we can do about it. My main concern, right now, is to get you out of here.”

                Gavin went back to searching his pockets for what I assumed was a lighter but I quickly handed him the one I had found. He eyes flicked to mine and a grim smile appeared and he got to his knees, motioning me to do the same. He leaned in, his lips near my ear and his breath stirring my hair a bit.

                "I’m going to throw a bottle near the front. This one goes to the hitters. . I’ll throw the last bottle on the bar when we leave it. We’re going for the balcony across the room. So when I say follow me, follow me. And when I say run...Run. Got it?"

                "Yeah." I started to breathe harder, wondering how he was going to get me out of this. He handed me an unlit bottle and quietly lit the other two. He sat them carefully on the floor and lit my bottle quickly. He tossed the lighter to the ground and turned his back to me, ready to run out. I too, did the same. He stopped, and turned his face towards me.

                "Ready?"

                I nodded slowly. I did want out of this man-made hell...but I didn’t want to get killed in the process.  Looking at Gavin, I realized I didn’t have a choice.

                Quickly, with two quick, powerful thrusts, he tossed the first bottle overhead and into the wall next to the front.

                There was a shout and then I heard the bottles smack into the wall and explode. The next went to where the hitters were. They weren’t big explosions like you see in the movies. No, it was just the sound of breaking glass and then a whooshing noise I couldn’t really describe. He glanced over the top of the bar and then back down.

                "Run!" He shot out running in the direction of the balcony in the back, burning bottle in hand, pumping bullets in the direction of the hitters. After a small hesitation, I yanked myself up and followed him.

Gavin glanced back, making sure I was following. He put up his gun momentarily, grabbing my upper arm, propelling me forward faster. Almost as an afterthought, he tossed the lighted bottle behind him. I heard the glass break and something different happened. It was a louder noise, more violent sounding. I could feel heat at my back. He drew his gun once more and fired behind us, and I flinched at each sound.

I risked a glance back and stumbled. The whole bar had gone up in flames. I could see a man entering through the door, low to the ground and who definitely looked hostile.

                He jerked me back up, both of us bursting out onto the balcony and slid to the edge. I looked down at the ground that was two stories below. You’ve got to be kidding me, I thought.

                Gavin looked down. He glanced at me as he put his gun into one of his shoulder holsters. After that was finished, he reached out and pulled me onto the edge of the stone guards. He climbed over first, and said, "Jump.”

I yelled, “What?!” just as he pushed us both off the balcony. I gritted my teeth, the air rushing to my ears, and

it was all too quickly that we hit the ground…hard. I knew enough to let myself fall forward and I started to roll. Before I had even stopped, two hands pulled me up.

              “Come on.” Gavin yanked me after him and we ran across the yard of the large Safe House and to his awaiting car. He opened the door, pushed me inside, came around to the other side and jumped in. Gavin started the car and peeled out as shots from the house started to ring out. A few stray bullets hit the trunk and then we were off.

                I forced myself to quit breathing hard and leaned back, slouching into the seat. I closed my eyes and concentrated on slow, deep breaths. The fear I had been feeling began to creep away, though not all of it, for I knew it wouldn’t ever disappear…not while I was alive anyway.

                I spoke slowly. “What now? They found the Safe House. Where am I going to go now?”

                He was silent for a long time, and when I thought I might have to repeat my questions, he spoke.

                “For tonight, you’ll stay with me. We’re going to have to contact your father…but not tonight. He doesn’t have to know about it until necessary. “

                “Oh.” was all I had to reply. Then, minutes later, “What about tomorrow night? The National Conference Dinner starts at seven. Father needs me to be there.”

“We’ll work that out later tonight.”

I stared out the window, watching the night sky for stars, but this far in the city, you just wouldn’t be able to see them. I wondered how much the contract was this time. The last one had been for forty-two thousand. The biggest one on me had been one hundred and twenty thousand. How did I know all this? Well, there was an advantage to having a hired killer as a bodyguard.

My voice sounded louder than it should have in the car, and even I could hear the tiredness in it. “So…how much is the contract this time?”

“1.4 million, US currency.” Gavin never danced around the subject. He gave it to you short, simple, and utterly ruthless.

My head snapped up. No, he wasn’t lying. He never lied. But…I was shocked to say the least…1.4 million dollars? Who and why would someone pay that kind of money to make me dead? A shiver ran through my body, this time it was different. An ominous feeling swept over me. There would be more of them this time. And they wouldn’t stop coming.

“But, we can still stop them. Whoever they are…Right?”

Silence. He didn’t answer. His face turned towards mine, and I could tell he was staring at me. In the light of a passing street lamp, I saw several things in his eyes that I wish I hadn’t. First, was the bottomless emptiness, something void of caring. The second, and contradicting of what I first saw, was the pitying compassion. The third, which of all I wish I hadn’t seen, was the lack of surety that I would survive this, and the look that said he would kill many before they got to me. Something in that look that knew he would take a lot of casualties down but they might still get me.

I turned away, fixing my stare on the dashboard. Gavin was good. But he couldn’t solve everything.

 Sometimes, I think I relied too much on his steadfast behavior and forgot that you can never really trust a man who kills.

Much less one who hires himself out to kill.