Unexpected Skill

 Felix knew he was skilled. Some people might think this was overconfidence, and he had been told on several separate occasions that he would be killed with this attitude. But to him, it was a simple fact. He was good at his job, and did his duty well. Without skill, he wouldn’t  be standing in this cold, damp warehouse.

He certainly wouldn’t be working for Pedro Carmine, the man who controlled all the human trafficking in Downtown, if he wasn’t skilled. He’d probably be lying dead in some lonely ditch, killed by Carmine’s men. But he’d survived, and convinced the man that his talent at fighting was worth more than repaying his mother’s gambling debts.

This was all to say, he was aware of what it took to be a skilled fighter, and a good bodyguard. He had been doing it for many years now, after all. This also meant that when he saw that Margaret Hawke, the queen of the city’s drugs, walked in with a bodyguard who looked like he was still going through puberty, he had many doubts.

The boy was currently standing behind where she was seated at the table, not paying much attention to the meeting. Felix knew through experience that the men and women in the warehouse at the moment were some of New York’s most dangerous criminals and gang leaders. Only a fool, or a particularly naive boy, would take their eyes off of the people in the room.

He felt a moment of pity for the boy. Felix had no clue why he was there, and he definitely didn’t have the skill to protect a mobster like Hawke, but it was never worth getting involved in criminal dealings, and especially at such a young age. He should be in school, not watching underworld negotiations take place.

At the very least, there was little chance of the kid getting hurt. After all, nobody would dare to attack a gathering consisting of these many people willing to take revenge. It would be foolish.

But of course, foolish people did exist. It was with this thought that Felix heard glass shatter. The quiet murmurs at the table halted, and everyone stared in the direction of the racket. 

On the second floor of the warehouse was a balcony wrapping around the inside of the building, overlooking the ground floor. Several men dressed in black were stood above, rifles in hand, faces covered, and looking menacing.

Before they could do anything, Felix had already dived for his principal, and had yanked Carmine by the arm to pull him under the large table. It wasn’t a perfect cover, but the rest of the room was empty save for a few crates resting against the eastern wall.

It was immediately clear that several of his fellow bodyguards had had the same idea. They glanced at each other commiseratingly from under the table, employers in hand. About five of the gang leaders present, including Carmine, had made it under the table with their bodyguards before the sound of gunshots rang out loudly in the echoing warehouse.

The noise was deafening, and it was clear the flimsy wooden table wouldn’t hold up for much longer. Something had to be done, and fast. In between these thoughts, Felix felt a pang of sorrow in his heart for the boy with Hawke, who hadn’t made it under the cover.

They hadn’t even begun to come up with a plan when the hail of fire stopped abruptly. Felix knew better than to peek out and survey the situation. Most likely, all the other people in the room were dead, and the gunmen were trying to bait the survivors out into the open.

He began to check what he had on his person, which unfortunately wasn’t much for this situation. If he’d known what was going to happen, he would’ve made sure to have a backup squad outside. But hindsight is twenty-twenty as they say.

All he had on him was his pistol, some ammunition, a few knives, and a taser. Enough to take down two or three people, but not as many as what he’d seen up there before the gunfire began.

Felix was about to open his mouth to ask the other men what they had, when a voice from outside rang out clearly from behind him. “You guys can come out now. You’re safe.”

The voice sounded young, very young. He turned around to see an unexpected face peering down from outside where they were sitting, grinning cheekily. 

The boy from earlier wasn’t dead, and was completely unharmed. How? From the sound of the guns earlier, there was no way he could have stayed alive. There was no other place in the warehouse to hide. But if he was still alive and in the open, and nobody was shooting at him..

Felix decided to bite the bullet, he crawled out from under the massive table, gesturing for the whimpering Carmine to remain where he was. Standing up, he noticed what he’d expected to see. The remaining mobsters lay dead, bleeding out on the floor, their bodyguards similarly still beside them.

But he noticed two things that shocked him.

One, that Margaret Hawke stood calmly behind the boy, unruffled as always, even after being shot at. She didn’t have a single scratch on her, not even a speck of dirt on the Prada purse she carried with her almost religiously.

And secondly, that the second floor of the warehouse was littered with still bodies, either dead or unconscious. Felix couldn’t figure out which from a distance. Either way, it looked like someone had managed to get them by surprise, and had taken them all down with brutal efficiency. Not one of them remained standing.

Noticing his awed stare at the still forms of the attackers, Hawke gave a rather bloodthirsty grin, causing cold shivers to run down his spine.

“Alex is rather talented, isn’t he?” She cooed, bringing one hand with perfectly manicured nails up to ruffle the boy, Alex’s hair. He winced indignantly but didn’t say a word.

Felix took it back. The boy definitely had skill.