Chapter 18

"Ree," Kedra whispered with a note of horror in her voice as she still lay huddled on the floor of the elevator with the Foole, "you giggled while blowing away those four men outside the elevator doors and actually laughed when you cleared the hallways on each side! Then you laughed some more while shooting the wounded, blowing their entire faces off with that shotgun! It's just not natural ... not human!"

The look Kedra gave me strongly suggested that she was staring into the face of some inhuman monster or wild animal caught in the midst of a murderous rampage, and I could respect that opinion. I couldn't see the Foole's face but certainly he quite understood our need to clear a path for ourselves, by whatever brutally violent means necessary, so that we could all reach safety. Kedra knew that rage and virtually uncontrolled anger had ruled my life, but she'd only rarely seen hints as to just how deeply my fury burned. Now my wrath was fully unleashed, my flames of furious ire had now breached every containment or restraint that I had, and I not only wanted to blast my way out of this evil estate home but I needed to!

I wasn't quite screaming out 'Blood and souls for Lord Arioch', but my mental capacity for so-called reason was gone ... as least as long as I had enemies before me, a gun in my hand and additional ammo still in my pockets. Leaving this place with even a single un-fired round would be one too many. My rage burned ... and required still yet more blood to assuage and quench its fury!

True, if Kedra thought I'd quite lost my sanity as I rapidly cleared our path of the waiting Watters guards up here on the second floor of his mansion, then the way I started mowing down the horde of reinforcements that tried surging up the long circular grand staircase from the main landing below would have solidified her opinion that I'd gone utterly and murderously insane. And she'd be probably be quite right ... the unholy cackling laugh that I made while emptying the riot-gun, filling the staircase and ground floor below with a hailstorm of .33 inch buckshot pellets had been maniacal, and more than a bit disturbing, even to me.

Ducking under the banister railing repeatedly to reload shells, I kept unleashing typoons of flying lead at anything and everything that moved downstairs, and from my upper perch near the top of the staircase I could command a killing zone that stopped dead cold three separate determined charges by Watters guards to reach the top of the grand staircase. None even made it a third of the way up.

They were shooting back at me of course but I had a better angle of fire on them and some partial concealment and while plenty of incoming hot lead struck the banister and railing in front and peppered the wall behind me, I was too lost in the moment to note any particularly near misses or even the two slight grazing wounds on the sides of my left arm. I was in the zone, focused gleefully upon cutting down my enemies as if they were wading through mud, moving as slow as turtles while my rain of scattered murderous buckshot crashed into them like storm waters against tiny boats, breaking them apart in similarly scattered small (and not-so) pieces.

The white and orange-brown swirled marble floor of the landing and hallway below was now a flood of wet crimson gore and it was soon scarcely possible to cross the floor at all without the necessity of physically stepping upon the throngs of the dead and dying, who quite covered the rich stone flooring as if they were bright red Persian rugs, rather than heaps of torn and mangled flesh. The fancy crystal chandelier above us (possibly an antique Imperial-era Baccarat) now shown its bright antique light upon an abattoir, a charnel house of carnage and butchery and delighted at the slaughter I'd created I just couldn't stop laughing.

It was an awful cackling and undulating laugh, truly maniacal and perhaps even psychopathic. The voice of a demoness loose from hell, crying for yet more bloodshed to sate her fell and unspeakable desires.

I'd never felt so free and happy in my entire life!

With the staircase secure, it was now time to clear the remainder of the top floor of the mansion but both the Foole and Kedra would still be more of a hindrance to my efforts than help, at least for the moment. Here on the second floor hallway, the elevator controls were concealed, the lift doors blending to match the luxurious wood side paneling. With the doors closed, the lift entrance would be well camouflaged to any casual inspectors, keeping the sole access to the sub-basement vault private and well-hidden. I would have almost certainly been unable to find this, had I forced my way here through the Watters grounds above ground!

For now, still inside the secret private elevator, the Foole and Kedra were both safe, but I needed to clear a direct path out of here!

"Stay here inside where they can't get to you!" I sharply whispered, handing Kedra the shotgun. "Use this to clear the upper staircase if you see anyone trying that route again, and keep any eye down that left side hallway too, but there's only six shells left so if you're pressured, take the elevator back down to the vault level again where you'll be safer. I've got to clear this top floor and find a safer way downstairs ... there has to be a public elevator somewhere for Edward's wheelchair. No way they rolled him up and down this grand staircase!"

I left Edward with them in the elevator as well. Up here he might provide me with some screening cover but the delay of wheeling the semi-vegetable around with me would take too much time and effort. Not to mention keeping my hands on the chair, pushing, rather than holding weapons and being completely ready to use them. cx

With that I checked my MP-5 to make sure that I had a full magazine loaded and rechecked the five full extras that I'd just hand-loaded with the last of the loose ammunition. Looking both ways down this open hallway, decided to clear out the right hand wing first. From my quick glances while mowing down the attackers on the stairway, I had a pretty good idea that part of the second floor was the family residence with their private bedrooms and this was a pretty good place to start. Probably not a whole lot of guards that way and since I was collecting members of the Watters family for permanent garbage disposal, I figured this would be a pretty good place to find Lawrence, Chesty's father and the only son of Edward.

Working my way down the hall, I kicked in a few doors and wasn't finding anything worth shooting (I did almost shoot a housemaid by mistake) and all of these rooms did seem to be family bedrooms, much as I'd assumed - but no one was home so far. Nice big rooms larger than my entire living area in my old house at Key Largo even! The crime family was definitely living large and wasn't scrimping on luxuries but I resisted the urge to just start smashing things. I wasn't opposed to the idea of picking up the odd bit of loot while I was here, but frankly everything remotely portable was so obviously gaudy that I felt dirty just looking at it and didn't covet anything whatsoever.

Picking out Chesty's former bedroom, the second door on the right from the end, wasn't particularly hard. It looked much like your typical college aged kid's dorm room and after making sure that I had no one hot on my trail I risked a full two minutes that I really couldn't spare to quickly toss the place. In a locked drawer I found his laptop, a top-end Apple (hate those!) and under his bed was a box about half full of previously worn panties. I thought I saw some old brown bloodstains on a few of them, so maybe these were from his play sessions with Wally-boy and Steve ... or just innocent acquisitions from old girlfriends. I didn't care ... and didn't have time to make the time to care either! I ran back down the hall and passed over the laptop into the hands of the Foole. Maybe it had lots of incriminating material or more names, dates and places (and perhaps account numbers) concerning the family criminal enterprises. Fun for later, assuming any of us had a later.

Reaching the final room at the end of the hall, I assumed that this was the main master suite, the bedroom of Edward and his equally malevolent wife. I was just thinking to myself that this was perhaps where the 'good stuff' was stashed, when Lawrence and I nearly crashed into each other each. With a big suitcase in each hand, Chesty's father was trying to make a dash for it with all of the portable family loot that he could carry. Probably the good stuff, nice light and ultra valuable, quickly snatched and convenient for porting off on sudden overseas trips to friendly countries that didn't possess an extradition treaty with the US. Since it had been quiet with no shooting for several minutes upstairs he had judged that it was safe now to skedaddle, opening the suite door just at about the moment I was about to kick the door in.

We were both caught flatfooted and by surprise and he dropped both heavy bags right in the doorway and reached for his own gun while ducking back around the side of the open door. Since I didn't like my odds of staying relatively healthy by leaping inside after him, where he'd have the first shot at me, I settled for loudly bitching at myself in anger and ducking back for cover up against the side of the outside hallway wall. Down at the end by the stairs, I could hear Kedra firing off the shotgun twice and a couple of screams that hinted that her rounds of buckshot had done some good, since no one appeared at the top of the landing or looked down the hallway in my direction.

Lawrence might not have been the brilliantly psychopathic crime lord-in-training that his son was, the former heir-apparent of the Watters criminal empire, but he wasn't entirely useless with a gun. His preferred choice of weapon, a Kel-Tec P-11 was a surprising one, a fairly cheap, small sized and relatively low performing handgun that was only nominally suited for its created role of concealed carry. Well, it had been concealed alright. He proved this quite adequately by wildly firing all ten rounds of his magazine right through the wood panel and sheetrock wall in-between us, mostly just blowing harmless ventilation holes through the wall ... except for the two lucky rounds that passed right through my left side and then also my right upper arm right as I was dropping myself to the ground, a bit too late.

FUCK! The side wound seemed to be the worst, a through-and-through that luckily probably missed everything of any particularly importance on its way in-and-out of me. The upper arm wound hurt worse, enough so that I moved the MP-5 into my left hand. That bullet had struck center mass in the middle of my arm and from the feel of things had probably cracked my humerus bone. Fuck ... I was going to be a mess after this mission was over! That made for six bullet wounds now, albeit all mostly minor ones, except for these last two.

Worse, this meant that I was leaving even more blood trace now everywhere in my path. My DNA markers would be in the Army, and now regular government databases and any law enforcement gather up the massive evidence in my wake could pull my name out of the computer in less than no time. Sure, I hadn't actually expected to survive this insanely suicidal mission to rescue Kedra and kill the Watters, but now that I actually stood a faint chance of getting out of here with most of my body parts still attached, I had some sudden new concerns for my survival in the future. But, if I didn't take care of Lawrence soon, I wouldn't have to worry at all about having any future!

I could hear him fumbling on the other side of the wall, trying to find another magazine for his pistol and I decided that I didn't need to give him the chance to shoot up the wall in-between us again. From a bullet hole in the wall, I could see where Lawrence was crouching and I just decided to repay the experience by spraying a full clip of the MP-5 in something of a spiral circle right where I was pretty sure he was ... and even shooting from my off-hand I was sure that I'd nailed him! At least six of the fifteen rounds struck home, four of them being either head or chest shots. The last of the direct Watters family members had cashed in his chips for good!

Checking over Lawrence, I was thankful that no insurance rounds were necessary, but I did relieve him of his two big heavy bags, both gratifyingly filled with portable loot. A quick look revealed bundles of my favorite dead non-president, Ben Franklin, stacks of bearer bonds, plastic tubes filled with gold and silver coins, and probably even some smaller bullion at the bottlm. Nice, but this wasn't the time or the place to count inventory.

Trailing a slow but steady stream of dark blood down the hallway from my side wound, I tossed the bags towards my friends for them to handle and spared a moment to spray another full magazine over the railing towards hiding and lurking guards contemplating yet another mass-charge up the stairs. The few I saw remaining down there didn't appear to be particularly motivated or overly courageous and I was now feeling slightly more charitable about the notion of allowing some possible survivors. Fun was fun ... but I was bleeding steadily and my right arm and both legs were hurting like crazy. It was time to find a way out of here!

The bedroom wing search completed, this left the left wing as the only other possible escape option. This area seemed to be a mixture of unused guest rooms and a few private study and office areas. I shuffled along with my submachine gun in my remaining good hand and used it to clear out three gunsels in a good sized and rather luxurious office that was right across the hallway from a normal public elevator! This room was probably where the crime family managed their business accounts but I didn't have time to linger, let alone conduct a search for criminal evidence. Besides, I'd already conducted my own private trial, finding the Watters family all guilty ... and conducted the sentence of death myself as well!

Beckoning down the hallway towards Kedra, who was watching my progress from the opening of the secret, hidden elevator, I gestured for her to bring everyone along – it was time to blow this joint! Maybe literally!

"Ree, you look like shit ... and that's a bad bleeder on your side." The Foole commented, wheeling the stroke-paralyzed crime boss in his wheelchair into this new elevator to join me. Hello Mr. Obvious! With all of the other pain and my remaining blood filled with endorphins and adrenaline, I hadn't noticed that one of Lawrence's stray rounds had also just grazed the side of my forehead creating a gush of blood flow over the entire right side of my face. I must have really looked like a ghoul from hell, as Kedra wouldn't look at me at all now!

"Yeah, but I'm ok for a few more minutes ... enough anyway to clear the rest of the way out of here and do one last thing that needs to be done before we go. Foole, I've got two small plastic bombs in that bag next to you. What do you have in your pack that can use toast this place up behind us? I've left way more DNA behind here than I'd planned."

"Here and now? Not much. I did have a few smaller explosives too, but I inadvertently left them downstairs attached to a natural gas line leading to the pool heater, attached to a timer that will go off in about another twenty minutes. How absent minded and foolish of me! The real fun stuff is outside in the car with Pete. Get us to the main driveway and I can call him in. The guards out in front will be expecting him actually. Then I can maybe prepare a farewell gift or two to make a more complete ruin of things in our wake!"

The Foole wasn't a gunman ... but his explosive skills, already proven twice over now, were quite exceptional! Whoever had taught him his craft had probably been a military explosives expert, and a damned good one at that!

Clearing the downstairs, which I frankly expected to be another bloody slaughter, rich and ripe with additional bullet holes imbedded into the good guys and gals, turned out to be rather anti-climactic. I sprayed another pair of full clips at small groups of gunsels lurking down the main hallway towards both the grand foyer to our left and the grand entrance ... our escape destination, to the right, and we claimed the entire downstairs for ourselves. The guards that didn't drop, instead dropped their weapons for the most part and legged it.

They'd seen that we had their boss and nearly to a man they decided that the odds of getting another payday weren't promising, so they beat feet out of there. The more stupid ones tried a last ditch charge at us at the main entrance, screaming, shooting and charging. I gunned them all down and it was eerie the way my laughter echoed throughout the marble walls and floors. For the moment, the coast was now clear and everything was silent except for the moans and cries of the dying.

I eased my weapon down as I loaded my last magazine of ammo, then I looked upon the carnage and found it pleasant to my eyes and I smiled.

"Close enough, the Foole commented while pulling out his cell phone to call for Pete to drive up to the estate and come get us. He spared an extra long glance at the ghastly pool of blood in and around the foyer by the main entrance, and also behind us at the grand staircase but his face didn't betray any emotions that he might have been feeling.

As for myself, I had one last bit of business left to perform and I had a vague idea of where to go to perform it. Wheeling Edward Watters right though the center of the slaughterhouse floor was a bit tricky but I hoped that it provided his scarcely blinking eyes with something for his still active mind to contemplate for his last few moments in this world. I did soon find my intended destination, a large pair of swinging French doors opened onto the pool room, which was partially enclosed with walls and a roof over about half of its length, providing shelter from the brutal South Florida summer sun.

No guards were present here and I didn't waste a moment to either cackle with glee or taunt my doomed enemy. Without word, fuss or the slightest hesitation, I wheeled Edward Watters right up to the edge of the pool and unceremoniously just pitched him forward out of his chair right into the water. It was only about five feet deep here, but with his limbs paralyzed by the stroke his hands and legs were helpless to save him. His body went straight down to the bottom and while I thought I could see his eyes bulge out with fear and panicked terror, he was indeed helpless and for the most part motionless.

"You should have joined your grandson, to become a crab buffet at the Golden Grotto as well, but in a pinch this will do. Join the rest of your family in hell, you old bastard!"

Slowly counting, I had reached about three hundred and something, well over five minutes of watching Watters helplessly drowning underwater when I collapsed and fell to the tile on the edge of the pool deck, barely able to move myself. The blood loss, which hadn't particularly slowed down much, if at all, had finally disabled me.

Barely a moment later, I felt the Foole's hands grasping me and placing me into Edward Watters now empty wheelchair. He must have been behind me in the doorway, quiet and just observing my vigil of watching Edward's demise and been right there by my side when I'd at last collapsed. As he turned me around to take me away, I was able to look down one last final time into my nemesis's now unblinking and lifeless eyes as he wheeled me away. The last of the Watters crime family had been dealt with and the entire criminal organization had been extensively beheaded of its entire leadership.

"Enough..." I whispered, still cradling my submachine gun as if it were a baby as the Foole placed a large blanket over me that covered everything from my neck downwards. With my face completely matted with blood, both fresh and dried, my features were quite indistinguishable.

The world had gone entirely queer and strange on me somehow and I thought to myself that I must now be quite faint with blood loss, perhaps even dangerously so. I even began to think that I was quite hallucinating, seeing the Foole now wearing a medical coat with a stethoscope fussing over me as a pair of Watters guards helped to load me into an ambulance complete with flashing lights. Already inside this meat wagon were Kedra and Pete, dressed in uniform as a matching pair of EMS workers who quickly hauled my blanket covered bleeding and helpless form inside.

"We'll get Mrs. Watters to Coral Gables Hospital immediately and take her straight into surgery but her prognosis is good." I heard the Foole's voice say as he climbed inside to join us and closed the back door of the ambulance shut. With a wail of sirens we then sped away and if there wasn't even the slightest delay passing security at the main gates I didn't notice any as I slowly fell into utter unconsciousness.