Page 104 of Semblance

Once I had controls of the cameras, I zoomed in on both Shadow and Lincoln, who were hiding in different sections of the main floor—Lincoln behind the couch that faced the door and Shadow still hidden away behind the island kitchen counter top—both waiting for the attackers to enter.

I watched as the entrance’s door pushed open and one-by-one men, dressed in black armor and ski masks, filed into the condo, fingers on the trigger of their automatic weapons.

For now, both Shadow and Lincoln seemed well concealed in their hiding spots. However they had underestimated the enemy’s numbers.

I counted eight armored assholes that filed into the room and estimated that the most Shadow and Lincoln could take out on their own were two, maybe three before the rest turned their guns and annihilated them.

I had to do something.

I positioned the microphone in front of my mouth and spoke into it confidently.

“Hey assholes,” I shouted. “You have until the count of three to drop your guns and get the fuck out of my space.”

I watched as the assailants raised their heads, searching for the origins of my voice.

“One…two…” I began counting. However before I could get to three, Lincoln peaked out of his hiding space, lying on his side, and fired two shots that blew apart the knee caps of one of the attackers. Before the fucker dropped to the ground, a third bullet tore through his skull, ending his life abruptly.

With his position now given away, gunfire was immediately returned and tiny explosions erupted from the assassins’ automatics, a hail of bullets tearing into the couch.

I thought Lincoln was finished.

Shadow popped up from behind the island countertop and took down another one of the bastards with a precise bullet to the head.

Six remaining, but Shadow and Lincoln were still outmatched. With their positions given away, it was only a matter of time before lady luck ran out on them.

“Hey fuckers, behind you,” I shouted through the speaker system. Sure enough, by instinct, two attackers turned around which allowed Shadow to take one of them down with another shot through the throat. Two shots and two dead; Shadow had an uncanny accuracy.

While the other assailants were distracted by the death of yet another one of their own, Lincoln took the opportunity and bolted from his hiding spot, rushing down the hallway and up the winding staircase.

The attackers regained their focus and began firing at him. I held my breath as I watched the bullets ricochet all around him, missing him by inches. It was an act of God that he was still standing.

“Christ,” I heard him mutter through the control panel’s speakers.

One of the assassins took charge, organizing his men that were still standing. “Hardball, stay with me. The rest of you go and find him.”

Three men peeled off from the main group and made their way cautiously up the staircase, stalking Lincoln like savage predators. Meanwhile the other two who remained on the ground floor converged on the island where Shadow was hiding.

From their formation they were planning to take him from both sides. With only one gun, there was no way Shadow could take them both.

“Control panel, flash twenty-one,” I heard Shadow shout, well aware of his situation. Was he talking to me?

“Aria, flash twenty-one, now!”

Yes he was. What the heck was flash twenty-one? I scanned the Control Panel and sure enough, discovered a button labeled F21. I pushed it and all of a sudden, the entire screen lit up in a blinding bright, white light.

“Fucking hell! I can’t fucking see,” one of the men cried out, dropping his gun to the floor, covering his face with his hands.

The other one had dropped to his knees in agony, rubbing his eyes. “I think I’m blind,” he moaned.

Shadow emerged from behind the counter and pulled the trigger twice, putting an end to both of them with a single bullet each.

I had gone from an innocent aspiring concert pianist to an accessory of murder. While I was flooded with relief that Shadow and Lincoln continued to survive, my hands were trembling and I suddenly found it hard to breathe.

I was beginning to understand what being a member of the Midnight Society entailed: Shiny things, hot sex, and dead bodies.

Meanwhile, on the second floor, the three men split up, searching for Lincoln. It was an incredibly stupid move.

One of the assassins entered into the guest bedroom, his footsteps as light as feathers. Little did he know that I was watching him and no amount of pussy footing was going to save this asshole. All I could think of was satisfying revenge for the people responsible for Abraham’s death.

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