The Exile: Episode 51

Seated at his desk, leaning back in the leather chair, Colin Summers laced his fingers behind his head. Slowly closing his eyes, he got lost in the rich, vibrant opera music. As each diminuendo slowed his heart rate, Summers couldn’t help but smile. The day had gone well, and in a few hours, he would clock out and head home. A peaceful ending to a peaceful day. Some days were troublesome when his stomach ached and he ate antacid tablets like candy. This morning, a child had jerked free of her mother’s hand and run around the lobby, screaming at the top of her lungs in displeasure at not having ice cream. Thankfully, one of his associates took care of the child’s tantrum while he slipped away to hide in his office. But he decided that one unruly child would not ruin his day.

Just then there was a knock at the door.

“Enter,” Summers called, turning down the music and sitting upright in the chair.

Dexter Owens, one of his associates, opened the door and stepped in.

“Sir, the couple staying in 804 called the front desk complaining about noises, and now they’re demanding to see you.”

Summers grumbled, “Can’t someone else handle this?”

“They tried, sir, but these people insist that they speak to you,” Owens answered.

With a heavy sigh, Summers yielded, “Very well. Get Dominic and we’ll go up to see what the problem is.”

Dexter Owens and his brother Dominic were twins who worked for the company that had put Summers in his position. They had been assigned to guard Summers at all costs.

Summers and Dexter met Dominic at the elevator and punched the button. In the elevator, Dexter pushed the button for the eighth floor, and the three men rode up in silence. When the doors opened at the eighth floor, they exited and made their way to room 804.

Upon reaching the room, Dexter knocked on the door and waited for a response. After a second knock and no answer, he slipped his key in the lock and opened the door. The hotel room was in shambles with overturned furniture and broken glass. Clearly some sort of struggle had taken place here. There was no sign of the tenants.

“Hello?” Summers called out.

After a few moments, a tall rail thin man walked out of the bedroom. His arms were covered in tattoos and he wore a piercing in his nose. He bobbed his head of black, spiked hair and smiled at Summers with piercing green eyes.

“Hi there.”

When Summers saw who it was, he almost choked. The higher ups had warned him about Ferris Cazonetti. They said he was called the Coyote. Summers scrambled past Dexter and Dominic Owens and fled toward the elevators. Seeing that one was marked Out of Order, he hit the call button and when the door of the other elevator opened, he scrambled in. Frantically pressing the button for the lobby, Summers felt relief wash over him as the elevator door closed and he started to move down. Just then the service hatch above his head opened and a smoke grenade fell into the car. When Summers saw the grenade hit the floor and smoke begin to pour out, he quickly covered his mouth and nose with his suit coat and beat on the elevator button for the nearest floor. Gas filled the elevator as Summers struggled to keep his eyes open. Just before he passed out, the door opened and he saw a man with a flannel shirt and baseball cap standing with his arms crossed, waiting.


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