John Wick, Chapter 4: Si vic pacem
Author's Note: This is the sixth part of a story collection by Darkpenn. It follows part 5, Aduentes fortuna iuvat. The collection begins soon after the end of the movie John Wick, Chapter 3: Parabellum.
6. Hoc est bellum
1
John Wick was woken by the silent vibration of his wristwatch. He immediately grunted in pain; every muscle ached with cramp, and he had not fully recovered from his fall from the Continental roof. He stretched as well as he could in the tiny space and listened. As far as he could tell, the room on the other side of the door was empty. But he could hear the murmur of moving voices: roving patrols of High Table soldiers.
He reviewed his mental map of the layout of the castle interior. The High Table meeting was in a large room on the second level; there was a balcony overlooking an enclosed courtyard. His hiding-place was on the first level. There was a security door of bulletproof glass at the bottom of the staircase, and there would be a guard station near it. The first level of security. He hoped that the key-card given to him by Cassian was the genuine article.
He took the Glock from its holster, took a breath, and stepped out.
The room was empty.
He left the room and made his way along the corridor. Eventually, he found what he was looking for: a bathroom. He relieved himself and then went into one of the stalls. And waited.
2
In her cell-like room, Elizabeth worked at the lock on the door, using the stiletto knife and the end of her glasses. She had been shown how to pick locks in jail, by a middle-aged woman who was in for aggravated burglary. The lesson had cost her five cigarettes and a French kiss. Worth it. But this lock was an old style and was proving tricky. Eventually, she heard it click open.
By her reckoning the High Table was probably meeting now. Good and bad: it meant that attention was focused there, but it also meant there would be additional guards around.
She eased the door open and peeked through the crack. No-one around. She stepped out and moved to the next room, where Trixie was. For a long moment, she considered leaving her there. No, she decided. Might need her. She rapped gently on the door.
There was an answer: "Who is it?"
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Who do you fucking think it is?" she whispered fiercely. She looked around, and saw a set of keys on a hook. She went through them until the door opened.
"Well, you took your own sweet time about it," said Trixie, stepping out.
Should have left her, thought Elizabeth.
3
Akoni came through the main door of the castle and went up to Cassian, who was waiting at the SUV.
"No surprises from the discussion," he said. "They have given me three days to prepare my organization for their takeover and then quietly leave. They thought that that was very generous."
Cassian nodded.
Akoni leaned against the car and lit a cigarette. "Did you know," he said, "that in my country my brother is the Minister for Defence? He is therefore responsible for receiving shipments of military aid, including from Her Majesty's Government of the United Kingdom. Of course, my country being what it is, not all of those shipments go where they are supposed to go."
"Hmm," said Cassian.
"And one of my fathers-in-law is the President," said Akoni. "So, you see, everything operates quite neatly."
"Indeed," said Cassian.
4
Two freelance guards entered the bathroom and started to use the urinals. Wick stepped out of the stall and smashed one of them in the back of the neck. He would be out for hours. The other one received only a sharp blow to the temple. No more than five minutes.
Wick used the belts of the two men to bind the hands and feet of the five-minute guy. Then he slipped out, making his way along the corridor until he was near to the guard station at the bottom of the staircase. It was just around a corner; he could hear their voices.
There was a heavy curtain over a window. He stepped behind it. As hiding-places went, it was not great but, he thought, it only had to last a short time.
A few minutes later there was noise from the bathroom: the guard had recovered and was shouting for help. A number of High Table soldiers and freelancers ran past Wick, heading to the source of the shouts. With luck, thought Wick, that means there will only be one or two men left at the guard station.
He stepped out of hiding and around the corner.
Three. There were three of them. Goddamn.
He lifted the Glock as they turned towards him. "Hi," he said. "My name is John. Now, if you will toss those guns over here no-one – "
No, these guys were too well-trained for that. Two of them hefted their automatic rifles as the other one hit an alarm button on the desk.
Wick fired, aiming for the gap above the chest armour. Two went down but the third managed to get his gun up. Wick launched himself over the table, slamming feet-first into the guy. He put the Glock to the man's neck and fired.
Three down. But above the sound of the siren he could hear more voices coming towards him, from both sides.
He put the key-card into the slot. For a long moment, nothing happened. The little light stayed resolutely red.
"When you're ready," he murmured to the device.
Green light. With a hiss the door slid open. He dived through as a shot whistled past him. The door closed, stopping several more bullets. He turned and fired at the door device on his side, and it came apart in a small shower of sparks.
He ran up the stairs, glancing back to see a troop of soldiers trying to open the jammed door.
Second level. The High Table room was not far. But there was another troop of soldiers boiling along the hallway. He knew that he wouldn't make it.
5
Elizabeth and Trixie were moving along a long corridor when they heard the alarm. They stopped at a corner.
"There is a guard post about ten metres after this turn," whispered Trixie. "There were two men but with all the noise there will only be one now, probably."
"How do you know?" whispered Elizabeth.
"I took notes when they brought me in," said Trixie.
They moved a little further on and, sure enough, there was only one guard.
"Distract him," said Trixie.
"Why me?" said Elizabeth.
"Because you're the pretty one," said Trixie. "Duh. I suggest you undo some buttons on that blouse."
Elizabeth sighed. Then she undid three buttons, let down her hair, and gave the assets a little push up. She stepped out.
"Why, hello," she said to the man. "Perhaps you can help me. You see, I'm lost, and I was looking for a strong man – like you – to rescue me."
He stared at her. "You shouldn't be here," he said.
She gave her long hair a flick. "You mean, I can't talk to a fine handsome fellow?" she said. She put her hands on his shoulders, turning him so his back was towards Trixie.
He smiled.
Then the garotte went around his neck. There was a gush of blood as it cut into the flesh. With a grunt, Trixie tightened the cord.
He went down with an agonised gurgle, spitting blood.
Trixie looked at Elizabeth.
" 'A strong man to rescue me'?" she said. "Puh-leez."
"Well, it worked, didn't it?" said Elizabeth.
6
Even from outside they heard the siren.
Akoni stubbed out his cigarette. He took out his phone and punched in a number.
"Now," he said.
Twenty seconds passed. Thirty. Akoni lit another cigarette. Suddenly there was an explosion at the main gate, as a heavy rocket-propelled grenade hit.
"One thing the British do well, aside from musical stage-shows, is small-arms weapons," said Akoni to Cassian. "I will have to pick up a gift for my brother to thank him. Some good cigars, perhaps."
Several SUVs came smashing through what was left of the gate, with men inside shooting at the guards.
From the other side of the castle grounds there was another explosion.
"Ah, that will be the Jamaicans," said Akoni.
7
There was only one way for Wick to go. He ran up the staircase onto the third level. It would give him a few moments, as he was out of sight of his pursuers. They would not know where he had gone, so would have to check every room. Seconds, no more.
"This was not part of the plan," he muttered to himself.
END (to be continued)