The Royal Contract

He knew he had to think quickly and produce a new plan. The hands were ticking, and he did not have much time.

He knew this would be a matter of life and death. A slight mistake and the latter would be his only option. Then, this time, he would be dead for real.

"Don't you want to hear first how I survive?" Gerald knew he had to goad him, provoking him to take the bait. "Who helped me all this time?"

He needed to buy some time before his bestfriend picked to shoot him to save himself or sacrifice himself and die with him.

"It is quite interesting. I promise you." He continued when Don did not seem to bite.

He wriggled his body, trying to escape, but the men holding him had a firm grip. But he already knew that brute strength alone would not save his life.

He was not Superman. He did not have superpowers. However, he had other skills that he could use to get out of this tight situation.

"Aren't you even an itsy-bitsy curious about who is aiding me?" Of course, talking about a traitor usually triggers an intense urge to find out the truth.

"And most importantly, what he had on you?" He added with a wicked smile before spitting the blood that pooled in his mouth from his gum and broken lips.

And his foe's eyes just turned black, throwing daggers in his direction. Now, he knew he had gotten his full attention.

But he could see that Mike was also fully alert, probably trying to look for his cue on what he was supposed to do.

His friend still held the gun that Don wanted him to use to kill him, but he doubted that Don would have him executed on the lobby floors.

"Ok, Gerald. I will let you sing." Don philosophically replied to his taunting. "I will even let you sing your heart out." He enunciated every word to make his point.

"Let's go." He ordered the group to join him. "We are about to watch him do a concerto." Mockingly announcing to everyone as they all started laughing.

Then, Don stood before him, putting his well-manicured hand on his jaw. "But if we don't like your tone, it will be my pleasure to cut your tongue myself."

Don motioned everyone to exit the building. Gerald believed that he planned to take his execution elsewhere.

He knew this was the opportunity he was waiting for. It was now or never. If he did not get out of this now, he never would.

"I assure you that you will fall asleep at the tone of my voice." He scoffed at the man that had betrayed him in the first place.

He counted the man that surrounded him, taking note of their weapons. Only one had his gun out, and that was Mike. The rest was still strapped in their bodies, concealed by their coats.

Then, he checked the street outside the glass partitions. It was dark, but he could still see a few passing cars.

But no pedestrians were walking on the street. He could only guess that a few guards must be roaming outside.

"We will see about that." Don signaled his men to drag him outside. But, of course, he willingly went along with them, waiting for his perfect timing.

He only hoped that Mike was aware of his plans. His friend would have to follow his lead. It was not as if he could explain to his friend what he had in mind.

First, he had to find the weakest link. So far, he believed he was standing on his left. Once he stepped outside the front door, he bumped into him hard, sending him to the floor.

Then, chaos broke loose.

Automatically, he grabbed the gun on the waistline of the man in front of him. But, of course, he anticipated his plan.

Therefore, they had to fight for it, but he was quicker than him. He eventually won the struggle, giving him the upper hand.

Still, he knew that was not the end as he aimed the loaded and armed gun at the leader of this notorious gang. That should stop everyone from moving and retaliating.

"Put away your guns, or I will plant this bullet into his brain." He threateningly shouted at the armed man surrounding him.

He quickly stood behind Don, rendering him immobile and his hostage. He shoved his gun into his opponent's temple, threatening to shoot him if they disobeyed his order.

Mike lowered his gun, pretending to surrender like everyone else. But he knew Mike could effortlessly disarm or kill him if he wanted to. Luckily, he was on his side.

"I said put all your guns on the ground." He shouted again, pinning the gun harder on his temples to make his point. "If I am going to die today, I will guarantee to take this man with me."

And that was not a threat.

"Throw your guns," Don shouted with a slightly shaky breath. "I said throw your guns." He repeated when one man still had his gun pointed at them.

Maybe his old buddy sensed that he was not joking around. Don knew he could be ruthless, just like him, if he had to be.

"You know you will not get away from this." Don attempted to intimidate him, but it would not work on him.

He knew Don was a scary cat who hid behind his money and power. He was nothing if not for his paid mercenaries.

He was a back-stabbing scumbag who could not fight his battles. He knew he could easily beat him to death with his bare hands. But not yet.

"You," He pointed to one of Don's assistants. "The skinny one." He seemed he was ready to faint.

He must be the new accountant handling the books. From his physical features, he doubted he had ever held a gun in his entire life.

"Go get the keys and start the car." He knew he had to get away.

It would be easier to use Mike alone, but that would blow his cover. He needed Mike to save Don from him. But how to convey that message was the tricky part.

"You are going to die a painful death for this." Don hissed angrily at him, but he knew he was all bark but no bite.

"Watch me." He said as he ordered the skinny one to hurry. But as he had suspected, the man was clumsy and was trembling in fear.

"Let go of him, Gerald. You know you will not get away with this." Mike finally spoke menacingly, threatening him as if he had a plan.

But silently, he hoped he understood what his eyes were saying. But sadly, he also did not have telepathic powers.

However, he and his friend did have instincts that had served them well throughout these years. He was counting on that tonight.

"I will. Once I am far enough." He promised with a vicious smile.

Honestly, a big part of him wanted to exact his revenge on the man who had betrayed him, ordered his death, and put the people he loved in jeopardy.

But he still needed him alive. He did not mind hurt but still breathing for his other plans to work. Therefore, he could not yet put a bullet in his head.

"Don't do anything stupid," Mike added, which seemed to warn him of some sort. Or was he saying something to him?

He stared at him for a few seconds as he tried to decipher his coded message. But being in the middle of this rush and volatile situation, the task was not easy.

Then, he heard the car come to life. Slowly, he dragged Don's body with him, pulling him into the car for his quick getaway.

He opened the back seat, believing he had better leverage on the driver from the back. He entered first. Then, he pulled Don with him, but he ensured Mike followed closely.

So far, so good. Now for the hard part.

He pretended to have difficulty as he pulled him deeper into the car. Then, he felt the struggle as Don attempted to wiggle himself off him.

Then, Mike probably saw his cue as he stared at him. Quickly, he dived into the car, pulling Don from his hand.

"Ahhh!" He could hear them fighting over control until all hell broke loose.

"Drive, he shouted to the man behind the wheel." But they were still pulling each other, fighting for dominance, until he aimed his gun at Mike, firing his first shot.

Then, another shot exploded from his gun. But this time, he aimed at Don as he let him go. Then, both of them rushed outside.

He turned to his driver and pointed the gun at him. "Drive or the next bullet goes to your head." The trembling man pushed his feet on the pedal, rushing them in the light traffic. Explore more stories with mvl

He knew it would take time before they followed him because they would all rush to save their leader. But he still looked behind them, assuring himself that all was clear.

"Stop the car." He tapped the gun's barrel on the guy's arm, jerking him in his seat.

When he finally complied, he exited the car and asked the man to run. He did not need him anymore. He was better off without a hostage.

He drove the car until he was sure he was safe. Then, he dumped the car. It was not a clean getaway, but he had accomplished his mission.

He just hoped that Mike was going to be ok. He had ensured that it was just a flesh wound. And Mike would not end up as collateral damage.

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