Contract Number 5678 – Timur Makarovich

A Story by Adatiel

First of a Short Stories Collection: "Old Contracts"

It was a rainy night and the dirty streets of the city were awfully crowded. The buildings in the area were either tall, clean workplaces or still under construction. A man in a brown leather coat and a brown hat seemed to be in a hurry as he squeezed his way through the masses. He started to slow down as he arrived in front of one of the unfinished towers. He turned right onto a quieter street, where two tall, muscular men were waiting in front of the entrance to what seemed to be an abandoned construction site.

“босс ждет, И™ан. (The boss is waiting, Ivan),” said one of the guards in Russian.

“Прости, Прости. (Sorry, sorry),” responded Ivan.

The two strong men let the man pass through and followed him into the building. As he entered Ivan took off his hat and opened his coat to dry it off. He went up the stairs, two floors up. There, a rather old man was sitting in a chair surrounded by four Goliath-like men.

“Ivan! What took you so long?” exclaimed the man in the chair in Russian.

“I’m so sorry boss, but the cops were after me,” replied Ivan with a stressed voice.

“Did they follow you?”

“I don’t think so, but I think that they are close to find out where we’ve been hiding.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of them,” he lit up a cigarette, inhaled strongly and puffed

out rings of smoke “What intel do you have on that assassin my dumb brother hired to kill me?” he asked.

“Well I just got the name, Adatiel I think,” answered Ivan.

As he said the name, the old man in the chair choked on the cig.

“'лядь!” swore the old man at his bodyguards, “Secure the area! Hurry!”

The henchmen looked at him confused.

“Are you all deaf?! Get ready to fight!”

Immediately after, the sound of footsteps could be heard coming from the stairs. Two of the bodyguards ran towards the edge of the room and took their guns out of their coats. Two others seized their Uzi-guns and aimed at the stairs. One of the front door guards and Ivan got close to the old man, grabbed their handguns and pointed them in the direction of the noise. The remaining guard moved slowly toward the stairs. He stopped. They all waited in the dead of the night. Only the footsteps could be heard. Even the rain seemed to have ceased. The noise was getting closer and closer.

“Boris, get him,” said Ivan quietly.

Boris started to walk again slowly in the direction of the stairs one step at a time. As he got to the top he froze. A gunshot was fired. Blood leaked from the top of his head mixing into with his short hair and dripping down his skull to his shoulders.

“Boris?” Ivan asked nervously

Boris fell down the staircase.

“Boris!!”

“hold your positions!!” the old man ordered.

A silhouette gradually appeared and with a calm voice, it said, “Timur Makarovich, boss

of the Russian mob, I’m here to kill you.”

“And you must be the infamous Adatiel,” reacted Timur in English with a rather strong

Russian accent.

“Indeed I am.”

Adatiel was a young light blue eyed man with short black hair. He was wearing a long black coat, ranger boots and fingerless gloves. Around his waist he had an old time combat knife attached to his belt. When he was 3 meters away from the staircase he stopped walking.

“Why?” Asked Makarovich.

“I have nothing against you personally. I have been paid by Alexei Makarovich to dispose

of you,” Replied Adatiel.

“Alexei that b*****d. I knew he didn’t have the balls to kill me himself,” laughed the old

man still smoking his cigarette.

“I don’t care about your measuring contest. I’m here to do my job.”

“Well then proceed,” Said Timur calmly “OPEN FIRE!”

All the protectors of the mob boss pulled the triggers of their respective guns. Adatiel didn’t react to the rain of bullets heading his way. Some went through his shoulder, others right into his chest, then several to the head. With each shot taken explosions of blood occurred. The squad emptied their magazines at the same time. They waited a few seconds for the smoke to disappear.

“Well that was easy, wasn’t it?” said Ivan.

“Too easy,” thought Timur.

As the smoke vanished, a standing human figure was visible. Adatiel was still there unharmed. His clothes were torn due to the deadly rainstorm he just took. When they realized that he was fine, all the men gasped in surprise.

“That’s impossible!” cried Makarovich.

Adatiel cracked his neck and replied, “My turn now.”

Suddenly thunder stroke, reminding them that it was in fact raining outside.

“Well, that is a dramatic coincidence,” Adatiel commented.

The giants near the windows ran towards the man in the long coat who drew his knife. As he pointed it at his assailants, the knife morphed into a golden gun.

“What the…!” yelled Ivan.

Adatiel fired two shots at the man on his left. Both hit the head flawlessly. The man fell down to the ground. His fall made the fragile floor shake. Adatiel then pointed the gun at the one on the right who was closer than he thought. He sniped his right leg. The man fell to his knees in pain as blood spattered out of his leg.

Ivan reached for a new magazine in his pocket and reloaded his pistol, while his comrade headed for Adatiel with a knife in his hand hoping to stab him. The young bounty hunter saw him coming and morphed his golden gun back into the knife it used to be. The attacker jumped and tried to stab Adatiel who was unfortunately too quick. Adatiel ducked and plunged his blade into the throat of his assailant.

The bodyguard with the wounded leg attempted to attack Adatiel. He got up using his good leg as his main support. Even then the pain was almost unbearable. Nevertheless he tried to grab him from behind and choke him. When Adatiel was grabbed he immediately reacted by kicking the leg that held all the weight of the man’s body right in the knee. The man let tears run down his cheek because of the pain.

Once Ivan reloaded his gun he shot twice in Adatiel’s direction. Adatiel heard the gunshots fired and using the big man’s force and threw him in the line of fire. The two bullets shot the guard in the back. He gasped in pain and rolled his eyes at the back of his skull.

Meanwhile Timur ran to the stairs on the opposite direction of the fight and went all the way to the top of the building.

“Really,” said Adatiel irritated as he saw Timur escape.

Adatiel walked to the stairs where Makarovich ran to. Ivan shot Adatiel again but this time the bullet hit the side of his head. Adatiel’s head moved because of the impact and blood sprang out of the place where his got shot. He then turned to Ivan and looked at him angrily with blood running down his head.

“I’m sorry, sorry, so sorry, please sorry,” begged Ivan with tears starting to appear in his

eyes.

As he arrived next to him he crouched next to him.

“Why do you beg?”, He asked. “You know that I am going to kill you.”

“But, I’m sorry,” implored Ivan again.

Adatiel smiled and his eyes became fully red as he looked right into Ivan’s.

“There is no forgiveness for sinners, trust me,” spoke Adatiel with an extremely strong

monster like voice.

“AAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!!!” yelled Ivan at the top of his lungs.

On the roof the rain was stronger than ever and Timur struggled to fight against the wind. He turned his head when he heard Ivan’s terrified scream. He then took out his phone dialed a number. A few minutes later a helicopter appeared out of the rain and got ready to land.

“Hurry up!” shouted Makarovich

As the helicopter landed a rocket flew right next to Timur’s face and hit the machine. It exploded projecting the Russian man a couple of meters into the air. He turned around and saw Adatiel with a rocket launcher in his right hand that turned into a katana.

“Who the hell are you?” asked Timur.

Adatiel ignored him and advanced.

“Please, please no!” cried the old man.

Adatiel stopped, looked at him thoughtfully and transformed his katana into the golden gun.

“You don’t deserve to be executed with such a noble weapon,” said Adatiel in a

condescending way.

Timur got up and ran in the direction of the hedge of the building. He turned to see

Adatiel’s all red eyes and screams so loud even the heavy rain couldn’t cover his screech.

“What are you?!!!!!!” he yelled crying in fear.

Adatiel aimed for him and shot right between his eyes. Timur fell off the construction and splattered at the bottom. The police sirens approaching could hardly be perceived as Adatiel’s gun turned back into his knife. He hooked it back onto his belt and walked away.

At noon the bar called the “Dead Mouse,” was full house as it usually was the case at that time of the day. Inside drunks sang loud songs while some lovers laughed looking at this funny spectacle. Yet at the back table two bodyguards were around an advanced aged man facing Adatiel. The old man asked in a light Russian accent:

“Is the job done?”

“Yes, your brother Timur Makarovich is dead,” answered Adatiel.

The man smiled and made a hand sign to one of his guards who then put a case on the table.

“Well Adatiel your reputation precedes you,” he added.

The guard opened the suitcase.

“One hundred and fifty thousand dollars in cash for you.”

Adatiel first looked at the case then at the man.

“Mister Alexei we agreed on two hundred thousand dollars,” he said irritated

“Well you see…”

“It wouldn’t bother me to kill another Makarovich,” he insisted.

Alexei gasped.

“Sure, sure, sorry,” he said as he signaled his guard that took another case and put it on the table