Chapter 3

Infiltrating the house had gone very smoothly. ‘Far too smooth’ Dominique thought as he checked the passageways for any sign of life. The house was shrouded in silence; only the ticking of a clock could be heard dimly echoing through the corridors. He signalled for the men to follow as he made his way down the corridor which, he knew, led to the main entrance. From his end he would be able to see his men come in from both sides. He nodded to one of his men to send the signal, waited, then nodded when the man signalled that they were entering.

He waited, listening for any sound, his eyes straining through the darkness of the hall. He saw the shadows of his team members emerge. Another signal and they were out in the hall, silently making their way to the staircase.

Suddenly he heard the sound, unmistakable as a gun being cocked, ready to fire. He looked up, and there they stood. The 6 members of VIXX

Dominique groaned as he opened his eyes and tried to look at his surroundings, fighting through the blurriness. His body screamed in pain when he moved just ever so slightly. He realised that his wrists were bound, as were his legs. He tried to remember what happened. Moving through the haze in his mind he tried to remember where it all went wrong. And like ghosts rising through fog, his memories filtered through. The members of VIXX at the top of the stairs, their men poised, ready to shoot, the resounding sound of gunshots as they ran for cover and tried to shoot them, seeing his men being captured and killed in front of him. The two large bulky men with canes approaching, hitting him till he fell unconscious.  

Dominique groaned in horror. His men had been killed. Had any of them been able to escape? What about the men outside? Did they make it? Questions ran through his mind, one after another at a dizzying speed till a loan moan took him out of his racing thoughts. There was someone else here. Perhaps it was one of his men? He looked around trying to see. In the far corner of the room was a man bound, beaten and bloody like him.

“Who’s there?” He croaked out. The figure in the corner mumbled unintelligibly. From his peripheral vision Dominique could make out another figure, standing when he turned his head to see who it was the figure stepped forward. Dominique’s eyes widened, “N...”

The man smiled and crouched down near him.

“I see you’re awake.” He said with a smile on his face, “I was beginning to think the lads had too much fun beating you up. Would have been a shame...” His eyes hardened as he spoke and swiftly he grabbed a hold of Dominique’s hair to drag him up. Anger was burning in his narrow slanted eyes.

“Did you think, inspector that you could get away with barging into my land and killing my men?” His voice, low and dangerous, “We will just have to make sure to punish you properly.” He turned back to speak to someone, “Bring the snitch over here. Let’s show our inspector friend here how we deal with people who displease us.”

Another tall figure walked past him, picked up the other man from the ground and dragged, one handed, to N who stood up, a look of disgust evident on his face as he used his booted foot to tap at the man’s face.

“Wake up, come on.” He ordered. The man did not open his eyes. He looked at a figure near the door. “Get some water.” The other figure nodded and went away returning only moments later with a glass of water. Silently he handed it to N who took one gulp and then proceeded to splash the rest of it over the semi-conscious man. Immediately the man groaned and was roused from his state. N smirked and dragged him up by the hair. The man screamed out in panic when he realised who he was facing, colour draining from his face so the blood, dirt and bruises looked more sickeningly defined.

“Please forgive me, sir.” He whimpered, visibly shaking. N chuckled as he looked at the man.

“Ah my dear Emile,” He crooned, “What a waste, what a tragic waste.” He shook his head slowly as anger reduced his eyes to slits. He relinquished his hold on the man and walked to the door. “I don’t forgive Emile.” He whispered as he stared at the man snivelling before him, “I don’t forgive and I don’t forget. You will pay for betraying me.”

N looked toward Dominique. “Enjoy the show inspector.” He said. With a final nod at the silent figure next to him, N walked away, the clicking of his heels fading away to silence.

The figure walked towards Emile, his face hidden by a scarf tied around bandit style, and immediately two burly men came in and dragged him to his feet. “Where do you want him sir?” Asked the man on Emile’s right. The figure nodded towards Dominique and the men looked over towards him. “Near him?” Another nod and Emile was dragged towards Dominique. The figure ambled towards them. The men had dropped Emile to his knees and stepped away, gleeful looks on their faces. The figure took out a small pistol from his back, a Browning Model M1903, FN Mle 1903 Semi-Automatic Pistol Dominique noted, recognising the make and model easily.

Emile was sobbing, begging for his life as the gun was pressed his forehead. One shot from a far range would have been instant death and at such close range it would ensure that it would blow off the back of his head pulverising the brain to useless chunks of matter. Dominique wanted to close his eyes, did not want to witness the shot barrelling through the man, but his eyes remained open, watching as the figure slowly pulled the trigger. He heard the blast and felt blood splatter over him. Emile slumped to the floor and Dominique watched the light rapidly leave his eyes, leaving them empty. Dead...