“…and while I understand your concerns, I must ask you to understand that we are doing the best we can with the tools we have.” Goodman said, concluding his speech.

Hundreds of people were gathered before the stage. Most were reporters, either listening intently to Goodman’s speech or scribbling away on notepads. There was the occasional click of a camera, but otherwise the crowd was completely silent.

Goodman continued. “Are there any questions?”

A reporter near the stage spoke up. “Why hasn’t the federal government sent anyone to help hunt down the hitmen?”

“I have asked for the government’s assistance in our war against these murderers, but the government is under too much stress right now to send any aid. After all, it can’t be easy running a country and a war overseas at the same time.”

“Why have no attempts been made lately to apprehend the Ghost?” asked a third reporter.

“We can’t catch him, that’s why. By the time Vegas’ finest hear about his recent activity and arrive on the scene, he could be miles away in any direction.” said Goodman, swinging his arm out for emphasis.

“Why haven’t you tried to find out where he lives? He’s obviously staying somewhere in Vegas.”

“We have tried. We sent a four-man undercover team into the southern district last year with the best weapons money can buy. Their objective was to tail the bastard and find out where he lives. You know what happened to them?”

There was a pause as Goodman looked around at the audience, seemingly waiting for a response.

“No? Me neither. And of course, we don’t dare send maintenance crews in there to fix the cameras, because the same thing could happen to them.” he continued, earning a few anxious whispers. “The Ghost isn’t just crafty; he’s also paranoid. There’s no way to catch him off guard because he’s already thought of every possible way we can catch him. He is always in control.”

((((((*******))))))

Allen struggled against the wall as the kukri slowly inched closer and closer to his face. His own knife lay useless a couple feet away.

“One sniper to another, mate? Give. Up.” the outbacker spat triumphantly.

Allen chose to do the complete opposite, bringing his feet up and kicking the other fixer hard in the chest and sending him stumbling backwards. He quickly scooped his knife back up and turned back around, jumping backwards as the outbacker lunged with the kukri.

Allen tried to stab him in his exposed back, but he was already up and leaned back to allow the knife to pass by harmlessly while raising the kukri for a downward slash. Allen spun past the slash and slammed knife into the man’s side, smiling at the scream of pain that marked his opponent’s defeat.

What he didn’t realize was that said opponent had received wounds like this many times before.

The pommel of the kukri knife suddenly slammed into Allen’s forehead, sending him to the floor with a yelp of surprise. He started to get up and heard a metallic click, and looked up to see the outbacker pointing a silenced SMG at him, smiling sadistically.

“Ya know, you and I are a lot alike mate…except you’re-”

He was cut off as the gun was kicked out of his hand. He stared for a moment at the now-empty appendage, then angrily turned back to Allen and raised the kukri again. “Hold still, ya mongrel!”

Once again, Allen did the complete opposite and kicked the other man in the crotch, causing him to bend over in agony. He then slammed the flat of his boot into the outbacker’s face, snapping the hunting glasses in two and sending him to floor, his hat bouncing away. He tried to pin the enemy fixer and grab his knife out of his side so he could finish him, but he was quickly thrown off.

“Nice try mate,” said the outbacker smugly as he removed the knife and tossed it behind the bed. “but I’m not givin’ it back.”

“Alright then, plan B.” Allen said, quickly drawing his silenced pistol and pointing it at him. He only managed to squeeze off one round, though, before his enemy used the oversized knife to smack it out of his hand, then charged at him again.

With no weapons left and a very angry Australian assassin charging at him with a kukri knife, Allen realized he had very few options left.

So he mentally steeled himself and charged at said Australian in return.

Just before the man could strike, Allen grabbed the kukri handle and his face and brought the both of them crashing to the floor, earning an elbow to the face.

He quickly rolled to his feet while the outbacker struggled to recover. Taking advantage of the other man’s temporary head trauma, he charged again and delivered a knee to the gut, three quick jabs to the face, and a spinning head kick. He then grabbed the man by the back of his vest and slammed him into the wall, grabbing his arms and forcing them behind his back while he looked around the room for something to finish him with.

He grinned wickedly as his eyes set upon the flatscreen on the other wall.

Taking the outbacker’s arms in one arm and pushing against the back of his neck with the other, Allen ran towards the television and slammed the Aussie into it face-first, grimacing with effort of keeping his face inside the violently sparking screen as he fought desperately to escape.

Suddenly, the man succeeded in freeing one of his arms and punched Allen in the jaw, forcing him to let go. He then made a wild swing with the kukri and succeeded in giving him a shallow gash in his midsection.

Allen yelped and retreated a few paces, watching as the char-faced Australian recovered and turned his insane, blood-shot eyes on him. He screamed and charged once again, kukri raised with the intention of slicing him in two.

Allen dove to the side to avoid the strike. While one hand held his bleeding midsection, the other searched the area around him for anything of use.

The Australian pivoted and, seeing his target sprawled helpless on the ground, took the blade in both hands and raised it to finish him off.

Allen cringed, preparing for death, when his fingers suddenly found a handle and trigger. He raised the SMG and sprayed in his opponent’s general direction.

He lay there for a moment, hardly daring to breathe. Then, when he didn’t feel a cold piece of metal crash through his ribs and into his heart, he opened one eye to observe his surroundings. He then collapsed onto his back with a sigh of relief.

The outbacker lay a few feet away, blood seeping from just over a dozen bullet wounds in his torso.

“Ghost? Are you there!? Ghost!” he heard the Administrator yelling.

“Dude, quit yelling! Jesus!” Allen snapped.

He heard a sigh from the other end. “Thank Christ. Hey, Goodman’s leaving! If you’re gonna take the shot, you need to do it now!”

“Roger.” Allen replied, staggering to his feet and staggering back to his rifle. He knelt down and sighted Goodman again, seeing the gray haired man in the blue suit wave to the audience as he began to exit right.

“Negative twenty…up a little to compensate…” Allen muttered to himself.

Goodman had nearly made it to the stairs, but Allen forced himself to concentrate and not rush the shot.

“More…” he muttered.

He took in a deep breath as Goodman reached the top of the stairs.

He let it go slowly when his foot hit the second step…and fired.

They waited in anticipation as Goodman neared the bottom of the stairs. “Please don’t miss.” Allen silently begged the bullet.

He smiled as Goodman’s head snapped sharply to the left, blood staining the canvas behind him. “Curtains bitch.”

“Yes! Oh God, YES!” cheered his former employer. “Sir, it’s been a pleasure working with you!”

“I wish I could say the same.” Allen replied. “I also wish we had more time to celebrate.”

“Speaking of which, you have about five minutes before the feds realize you aren’t on the roof.”

“Shit, I forgot about them.” he said absently as he opened the suitcase and extracted a spare shirt, along with his black coat, fedora, and gray scarf. He also tore up one of the sheets on the bed and wrapped it tightly around his midsection, gasping as pain shot from the wound.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” the Administrator asked worriedly.

“Steve Irwin tried to gut me with a kukri knife.”

Allen paused as he heard a snort of laughter on the other end. “What’s so funny?”

There was a moment of silence before they spoke. “I’m sorry. It’s not funny. You could’ve died.”

Allen chuckled. “Relax, I’m kidding” he said. “By the way, did you find your guy?”

“Little bastard snuck into our headquarters and disguised himself as a maintenance worker. We caught him trying to get out through the vents, so he’s dealt with.”

“Great.” Allen turned to survey the battle-torn hotel room. “Now what am I going to do about this?”

The damage wasn’t the problem. He didn’t care if people knew he’d been here, because they were probably going to find that out anyway. What bothered him was the giant blood stain on the carpet that had come from the kukri slicing him open. If the forensics team swept through here and checked each individual stain (as they undoubtedly would), that stain would give them a name and a face to hunt for. Allen couldn’t have that, so he had to find some way to destroy the evidence.

And he was running out of time to do so.

He looked frantically around the room in search of bleach or disinfectant of some kind to cover his tracks. He started panicking when all he found were complimentary shampoos and lotions.

“Come on, come on! Throw me a fucking bone here!” he said anxiously.

“They’re on the roof.” Admin warned.

“Shit!” was Allen’s only reply.

He was about to make a run for it and take his chances when an oil lamp on one of the nightstands caught his attention. He walked over to it and noticed a box of matches next to it.

“Well, that’s convenient.” he said as he retrieved his knife from behind the bed.

“What is?” asked the Administrator.

“Admin, I’ll call you back when I’m on the road.” he replied before hanging up.

Having retrieved all of his gear, he quickly struck a match and lit the small piece of oil-soaked fabric inside. He waited for the flame to completely swallow the fabric before smashing it on the carpet and leaving.

He made sure to activate the fire alarm before leaving the building.

((((((*******))))))

“Spread out and find him!” Reese shouted to the rest of his squad. “Guard the doors! Make sure he doesn’t get away! Move it!”

While everybody else scrambled around the roof in search of the Ghost, Jeff and Carl stayed by the door and rolled their eyes.

“No shit, Napoleon.” said Carl. Jeff sniggered in response, then looked around.

Carl turned to him. “Something wrong?”

“There’s not exactly many places to hide up here.” Jeff responded. “I don’t think he’s here.”

“But…wait. You think he was in a hotel room?”

“I’ll bet my badge on it.” he said. He looked over at his commanding officer and took a deep breath.

This is going to suck. “Reese!” he called.

Said commanding officer turned and approached him. “What do you want, Jeff?” he said tiredly, as if certain Jeff was about to waste his time.

“I don’t think our guy is up here. I think he’s in one of the hotel rooms.”

“I didn’t know you were paid to think.” Reese sneered. Jeff growled inwardly, but kept his composure.

“We need to lock down the building, sir. That way we can-”

“I’m sorry, is that your call to make?” Reese said loudly. A few of the other agents stopped to watch the conflict.

“No sir, but-”

“Who’s in charge here Jeffry? Me or you!?” His voice was slowly rising to fever pitch, as was Jeff’s temper.

“You sir. I’m just-”

“You know what Jeff? Simmons seems to be under the impression that you’re one of the finest agents that the academy has turned out in the past few years.”

Jeff’s eyes widened in surprise. Wait…what?

“But you know what I think?” Reese leaned in real close to Jeff’s face. “I think you’re just some punk-ass, insubordinate little…” He suddenly trailed off and sniffed a few times. “Do you smell smoke?”

Suddenly, the fire alarm began going off in the building. Jeff stood confused for a moment, then ran to the front end of the roof and looked down to see a pillar of smoke rising towards him from a hotel room fire about three floors down. Far below he saw a brown car quickly exit the parking lot and get on the main road, heading south.

Carl joined him a second later. “Holy shit! What happened!?” he exclaimed as he saw the fire. He looked over at his partner and noticed how very angry he looked. “Uhh…Jeff?”

Jeff didn’t answer, instead continuing to glare angrily at the parking lot far below. He heard Reese approach the edge and gasp as he saw the fire. “What the hell-”

Suddenly, his lower jaw made contact with the roof of his mouth and he dropped to the roof, followed by several of his teeth.

For a moment, all attention was focused on the man whimpering on his back. Then all agents turned to watch a very depressed-looking Jeff walk towards the exit.

((((((*******))))))

Allen dialed the Administrator as he drove along the busy freeway, watching fire engines speed past as they headed for the smoking hotel.

“Hello?”

“Time to update my list of offences. Ready?” Allen asked breathlessly. “Theft, murder, assault, destruction of public property, destruction of private property, resisting arrest, assaulting public officials, impersonating public officials…and now arsony. The list just keeps getting bigger, doesn’t it?”

“How you haven’t been caught yet is beyond me.” Admin agreed.

“Which reminds me: I don’t think you’re getting the deposit back on that hotel room.”

“Yeah, what the hell were you thinking, by the way!?” they asked loudly.

“Hey, it’s not like I had a gallon of bleach sitting around!” Allen shot back. “Covering up the evidence wasn’t an option, so I had to incinerate it instead.”

He heard a heavy sigh from the other end. “I’m not happy about this.”

“Neither am I.”

The car was silent for a few moments, then Allen spoke up.

“Look on the bright side, though: we did it.”

“That we did sir, that we did.” Admin said with a chuckle. “Remember to meet me at ground zero in two days.”

“Sure. I’ll see you there.” Allen said, then he hung up. He tossed the phone into the passenger seat, then turned off the freeway and headed for Skeeter’s.

“Dude’s gonna be pissed when this piece of shit shows back up in his lot.” he said with a chuckle.

Author's Note

You knew who was going to win. We all did
Be sure to comment, leave a like, and follow me for more epic content like this.
Also, thanks for the feedback guys.