Chapter 3
"You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style."
--Vladimir Nabokov (1899-1977)
Hotel 7
Tacoma, Seattle
March 17, 2059
3:00 am
The dry rasp at the door jerked Weezer in consciousness. Loud knocking that followed nearly gave him a heart attack. His bodyguards were watching a cheap movie on the trid. They had started to move back into their positions. Weezer motioned at them as they did so while brushing the crumbs off his shirt.
"Open the door." He commanded as his bodyguard next to the door unlocked it.
Smiley stood on the other side. He had a idiotic smile on his face and a deep tear in his pants leg. Under his arm there was also a ice bucket that looked like it had seen better days. It was cracked around the top and was leaking something.
"About time you dragged your carcass back here, Smiley. I been waiting for hours, how hard is it to kill one fragger?" Weezer complained as Smiley stepped inside. Weezer's bodyguard closed the door as he entered. "So, where's the pictures?"
Smiley shook his head. "Didn't have a camera."
"Didn't have a camera?!" Weezer blurted. "I told you to bring back proof!"
"Oh, I did that." He replied, Weezer quieted himself, wondering what he meant. Smiley held up the ice bucket. Weezer only stared at it. Then Smiley picked the top off and tossed it over his shoulder. His hand he grabbed a fistful of hair and lifted the decapitated head of David Gill in the air. "This the fucker? He looks pretty dead to me." Weezer was at a loss for words. Smiley tossed the appendage to the fat man. The head bounced against the bed and landed near Weezer's lap.
"Er...yeah.." Weezer stuttered. "That counts as proof."
"Excellent." Smiley grinned. "My fee."
Weezer glanced at his bodyguards. He didn't really want to give over the money to this walking moron. In fact, this was one of the biggest jobs that he had ever had a chance to work with. The idea of giving most all of the money away ate at him like a tapeworm. His greed and jealousy would always get the better of him Yet the way that Smiley delivered his proof proved the stability of his mind. He began to have second thoughts about crossing him.
"Ahem." Smiley cleared his throat. "I got other things to do."
Weezer looked at him with a glutton's smile. "Sorry there, chum." He snorted. "But there's been a change in plans. You see, I've decided that you don't deserve payment, you mutilated the body and all. Be hard for anyone to figure out who the rest of him belongs to."
"They can run a DNA scan, pisser."
"Yes, well, I'm not to happy with it. You just forfeited your reward. And, in the small print, I get the proceeds for you incompetence."
Smiley's eyes narrowed, piecing a gaze directly into the pudgy man. The bodyguards made small moves, but they didn't want to push anything. They too were unnerved at Smiley's actions.
"I'm sure you understand." Weezer added.
"Oh, I understand." Smiley grinned. "I understand that in less than ten seconds I'm going to be throwing your fat ass over the balcony and flushing your babysitters down the toliet. Then I'm going to walk all the way downstairs to where your fat ass went splat, cut off your head, and stick it on the front of my car as a hood ornament. Unless you give me what's mine."
The bodyguards tensed up, Smiley watched both of them. The one by the door was closet while the other by the bathroom slowly moved his hand toward the inside of his coat.
"What's it going to be, fat man?" Smiley grinned sinisterly.
Weezer's forehead broke out in a cold sweat. "Sorry, chum, but you lose." He said, just as the guard by the bathroom went for his gun.
Smiley's wires kicked in, boosting his speed far above the low-grade help that Weezer had hired. He spun his backhand around, snapping his spurs out. The bodyguard was better as he looked as he arced his neck away from the spinning razors, but he wasn't fast enough for Smiley to finish his spin and snatch the man by the collar while smashing his forearm into his chin. He tried to fight back by kneeing the incredibly quick sammy.
Smiley hardly noticed the blow, but he did try to duck when the bodyguard next to the bathroom pulled an Ingram Smartgun and let loose a short burst in his direction. Again the crazed samurai ignored as the rounds clipped at his shoulder. At least one of them found a way through his armor and into flesh.
Weezer waddled to the floor and scampered for the bathroom while trying to get a large revolver free from his holster inside his shirt.
"Kill him!" He squealed. "Kill the fool!"
Smiley doubled drawed both his Predator's with the speed of lightening. He swung around the guard he had just decked and put him between himself and the one by the bathroom door. The one he was holding tried to resist, but Smiley blocked his punch with his forearm.
"Time to meet the toliet." Smiley shrieked as he shot down the bodyguard by the bathroom. The human male toppled onto Weezer who was trying to scamper his way into the bathroom.
"Get off!" Weezer screamed as he attempted to push the corpse away.
Smiley pushed the guard that he had been using as a human shield away from him. He brought up both pistols centered on his chest and fired them both into him. The guard doubled over and dropped to the floor, coughing profusely.
"You just got on my bad side, pisser." Smiley warned as he stalked to Weezer, prepared to finish off the bodyguard that he had just injured.
"Fuck you." The guard mumbled as he struggled to pull his smartgun out from his coat and stumble to his feet.
"Too slow, drek for brains." Smiley cursed as he leveled his pistol at him and put an explosive round into his soon to be cold corpse. The body crashed to the ground only a few feet from Weezer.
"You crazy motherfragger!" Weezer cursed, finally getting his revolver out and aiming toward's Smiley. "I hope you burn in hell!" He screamed, pulling the trigger.
Weezer fired at almost the same time as Smiley dived out of the fat man's line of fire. Smiley felt a hard thunk against his ribs as a bullet was stopped by his armor. He ignored the impact and snapped a round into Weezer's kneecap.
"Gahhh!" He screamed. "You son of a bitch! I'll kill you!"
Smiley rushed up and stripped the revolver from the fat man's hand. "Not today, pisser." He cursed, putting his pistols away and hauling Weezer to his feet. The man screamed as he applied pressure to his bleeding knee. "I want my money."
"Sure, chum." Weezer said in a weak voice. He dug into his pocket and held out a credstick. "Here you go."
"Thanks." Smiley grinned as he took it. "Now, remember what I said about you fat ass going splat?"
Weezer stared at Smiley in cold fear. The wild look in the samurai's eyes told him that he wasn't kidding. "No! Damn you!"
Smiley dragged the fat pig to the window, Weezer struggling and sprouting curses all the way. Smiley set him up in a hip toss and threw the pig out the window. Weezer's bulk caused him to knock off the guardrail and plummet to the ground. He hit the ground with all the sound of his flab coming to a sudden stop. He breathed very shallowly, estimating that the fall had probably borken his hips. Smiley came out of the room and peered down at him.
Hmm, Smiley thought, that's going to be one ugly fucking hood ornament.......
That's it for this story. Try going back to the Fiction Index and find something else. Thoughts, rants, comments? Email me and tell what you thought about it.