10-04-2019, 11:17 AM
So Night Follows Day Pt. 11
By T. MaskedWriter with special guest author Susan Bailey
"I had a dream.
Aw, shucks. Oh, well.
Now it's all fucked up.
It's shot to hell.
Yeah, yeah, my shit's fucked up.
It has to happen to the best of us.
The rich folk suffer like the rest of us.
It'll happen to you."
-Warren Zevon, "My Shit's Fucked Up"
Hi, Susan again. Since this part involves me a lot, I'll be trading back and forth with The Masked Person for some of it. (I'll tell you when it's me, just to keep things clear.)
I was in the master bedroom of the La Contessa suite at the Seattle Hotel de San Finzione. The penthouse suite had been designed to Contessa Helena de San Finzione's specifications, and so there was a system for locking the bedroom and private bath into a panic room. Rita Delvecchio was with me. You might not have heard of her outside San Finzione; she plays Helen on an SNL-type show there, and looks and acts like La Contessa well enough that Helen hires her to fill in at things like the phony STRANGERS conference that everyone in the streets, fifty stories below us, was protesting for one reason or another.
Rita and I hadn't had an opportunity to talk yet, primarily because a Triad hit team who thought she was Helen were coming to kill her in retaliation for an attack on them two hours earlier. (Helen didn't order the attack; it was a setup by that Whyte fucker.) Now we were watching as the elevator doors opened, Helen's Ultimados and Mander standing with their guns trained on the door, Primo Tenente Marisol Velasquez standing in front of the elevator, hands behind her back.
The elevator contained six men in black suits with skinny ties. (I think of them as Quentin Tarantino's "Gangster Uniforms." There's probably a real name for them, though.) I don't know a lot about guns, but two of them were carrying some kind of sub-machine guns, and the other four carried pistols that weren't as big as Mander's Desert Eagle, but still scary-looking. Two of them had meat cleavers, as well.
Velasquez greeted them with a welcoming smile and removed the top of the string bikini she'd been wearing, her breasts bouncing free before the Triad goons' eyes. While they stared, her foot shot up, and she kicked one of the two carrying SMGs in the face, wrapping her bikini-top around his gun and yanking it out of his hand as he staggered back into the two men behind him. The other one was still stunned when her left fist slammed into his gut and he doubled over. Marisol brought her leg back down for balance before head-butting the man behind him, then backflipping out of the elevator and the other Ultimados' line of fire.
Mander and the others opened fire. Their own SMGs and pistols undistracted by the gorgeous Latina's performance. My nipples were still hard from seeing it when Rita and I had to turn away from the screen. Helen must have soundproofed the suite as well, because we only heard the shooting over the TV's speakers, rather than from outside the suite.
The explosions we heard next, however, carried through the walls. I looked up at the TV again to see what was happening. The metal fire exit doors at either end of the hall had flown off their hinges, and impacted as twisted metal on the opposing walls.
Velasquez picked up one of the SMGs and got Mander's attention. They pulled back to the suite door, firing randomly down the halls to give themselves cover as smoke clouds formed at either end. Mander cracked the door open, Velasquez shouted something through the crack, and they both stepped into the suite, closing the door behind them.
The cameras showed them running through the suite to the door of the room where Rita and I were holed up. I found the door controls and opened it for them, then sealed it again when they entered.
"Helen said something about Ernst coming, then we got cut off." I told them. "I'm not getting a signal. Hope nothing's happening there."
Mander and Rita took their phones out and checked as well.
"Nothin' here, either. Bollocks! Whyte's s'posed to be a phone guy, right? He must be doin' somethin' to the phones."
"If Ernst is coming," Velasquez said as she checked her gun, while Rita brought her a bathrobe to cover up. "This means that La Contessa is sending her helicopter. We must get to the roof."
Mander looked at the monitor. The Ultimados had taken positions to watch either side of the intersecting hall. Against both walls of their position, two were providing suppressive fire while a third waited for an opportune moment to throw a flashbang toward the fire exits.
"Well, they're between us and the stairs outta here."
"So, we are trapped in here?" Rita asked, looking at the shoot-out taking place. "There is nowhere to run?"
Rita's choice of words got me thinking. I went up to the walls and started knocking.
"No! That's not how Helen thinks! This suite was built to her specifications. Helen is a runner. She wouldn't lock herself into a room with no way out; she would leave herself some way to run. She's got a hidden door or escape tunnel somewhere in here. Help me find it."
* * *
By T. MaskedWriter with special guest author Susan Bailey
"I had a dream.
Aw, shucks. Oh, well.
Now it's all fucked up.
It's shot to hell.
Yeah, yeah, my shit's fucked up.
It has to happen to the best of us.
The rich folk suffer like the rest of us.
It'll happen to you."
-Warren Zevon, "My Shit's Fucked Up"
Hi, Susan again. Since this part involves me a lot, I'll be trading back and forth with The Masked Person for some of it. (I'll tell you when it's me, just to keep things clear.)
I was in the master bedroom of the La Contessa suite at the Seattle Hotel de San Finzione. The penthouse suite had been designed to Contessa Helena de San Finzione's specifications, and so there was a system for locking the bedroom and private bath into a panic room. Rita Delvecchio was with me. You might not have heard of her outside San Finzione; she plays Helen on an SNL-type show there, and looks and acts like La Contessa well enough that Helen hires her to fill in at things like the phony STRANGERS conference that everyone in the streets, fifty stories below us, was protesting for one reason or another.
Rita and I hadn't had an opportunity to talk yet, primarily because a Triad hit team who thought she was Helen were coming to kill her in retaliation for an attack on them two hours earlier. (Helen didn't order the attack; it was a setup by that Whyte fucker.) Now we were watching as the elevator doors opened, Helen's Ultimados and Mander standing with their guns trained on the door, Primo Tenente Marisol Velasquez standing in front of the elevator, hands behind her back.
The elevator contained six men in black suits with skinny ties. (I think of them as Quentin Tarantino's "Gangster Uniforms." There's probably a real name for them, though.) I don't know a lot about guns, but two of them were carrying some kind of sub-machine guns, and the other four carried pistols that weren't as big as Mander's Desert Eagle, but still scary-looking. Two of them had meat cleavers, as well.
Velasquez greeted them with a welcoming smile and removed the top of the string bikini she'd been wearing, her breasts bouncing free before the Triad goons' eyes. While they stared, her foot shot up, and she kicked one of the two carrying SMGs in the face, wrapping her bikini-top around his gun and yanking it out of his hand as he staggered back into the two men behind him. The other one was still stunned when her left fist slammed into his gut and he doubled over. Marisol brought her leg back down for balance before head-butting the man behind him, then backflipping out of the elevator and the other Ultimados' line of fire.
Mander and the others opened fire. Their own SMGs and pistols undistracted by the gorgeous Latina's performance. My nipples were still hard from seeing it when Rita and I had to turn away from the screen. Helen must have soundproofed the suite as well, because we only heard the shooting over the TV's speakers, rather than from outside the suite.
The explosions we heard next, however, carried through the walls. I looked up at the TV again to see what was happening. The metal fire exit doors at either end of the hall had flown off their hinges, and impacted as twisted metal on the opposing walls.
Velasquez picked up one of the SMGs and got Mander's attention. They pulled back to the suite door, firing randomly down the halls to give themselves cover as smoke clouds formed at either end. Mander cracked the door open, Velasquez shouted something through the crack, and they both stepped into the suite, closing the door behind them.
The cameras showed them running through the suite to the door of the room where Rita and I were holed up. I found the door controls and opened it for them, then sealed it again when they entered.
"Helen said something about Ernst coming, then we got cut off." I told them. "I'm not getting a signal. Hope nothing's happening there."
Mander and Rita took their phones out and checked as well.
"Nothin' here, either. Bollocks! Whyte's s'posed to be a phone guy, right? He must be doin' somethin' to the phones."
"If Ernst is coming," Velasquez said as she checked her gun, while Rita brought her a bathrobe to cover up. "This means that La Contessa is sending her helicopter. We must get to the roof."
Mander looked at the monitor. The Ultimados had taken positions to watch either side of the intersecting hall. Against both walls of their position, two were providing suppressive fire while a third waited for an opportune moment to throw a flashbang toward the fire exits.
"Well, they're between us and the stairs outta here."
"So, we are trapped in here?" Rita asked, looking at the shoot-out taking place. "There is nowhere to run?"
Rita's choice of words got me thinking. I went up to the walls and started knocking.
"No! That's not how Helen thinks! This suite was built to her specifications. Helen is a runner. She wouldn't lock herself into a room with no way out; she would leave herself some way to run. She's got a hidden door or escape tunnel somewhere in here. Help me find it."
* * *
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