Death Hotel (Fan Fiction By DC)

[Dumb_Commander]

1335

 

It was late lunch in Boston, a nice day but the sun had just disappeared behind some rather ominous looking clouds and the security guard at The Crowne Hotel was glad his shift was nearly over...

 

Half past one, they were running late but they could still make it. The security watch didn’t change until two, that was how long they had. The four men walked with a clear purpose, quite intimidating characters in both appearance and stance. People moved for them...

 

They entered the hotel where security was continuing to clock watch and the group moved to the reception desk. One man shifted his hand, from his trouser pocket to under his jacket. It was a smooth move, very casual... But the glint of metal was unmistakable.

 

As the man’s hand settled on the butt of a pistol, the security guard lunged out of his seat and took the best firing position he could in the wide open lobby.

 

“Put your hands where I can see them right now!” the guard yelled cocking his own sidearm. The man froze and turned to the guard slowly, withdrawing his weapon by the butt with two fingers and a thumb.

 

The hotel manager emerged from his office and took in the scene in front of him.

 

“What is the meaning of this?” he asked the guard cautiously.

 

“We have a possible incident, these four just came in off the street, this one’s armed.”

 

“I’ll call the police,” said the manager turning quickly to enter his office. As soon as his back was turned he heard a gun shot. By the time he’d turned again the guard was already down.

 

A smoking barrel hovered next to the first man’s head and a bleached blonde head appeared next to it. He was grinning cruelly, exaggerated by he scar that ran from his mouth to his temple.

 

“Actually,” he said in a dirty Scouse accent, “we all have guns…”

 

1352

 

The police had received a panic alarm from the hotel less than ten minutes ago and now they arrived, one cars, two men...

 

The two officers were locals, John and Trask had both visited the Crowne at some point during their time in Boston. It had always been a cheap and cheerful atmosphere but it was a break nonetheless and the service was actually quite exceptional with many wealthy regulars frequenting the homely establishment.

 

The two men had no idea what to expect when they began to climb the steps to the building. They were laughing together, recalling some of their stays here and some of the false alarms that the Boston hotels were famous for. They weren’t ready for the shooting…

 

A burst of fire from an AK-47 knocked John back out of the door before he was even through it. Trask had just enough time to see one shooter and the dead security guard before a near miss from a hand gun snapped him out of it. He threw himself away from the doors and down the steps, landing heavily on his side at the bottom.

 

Trask clutched his arm and looked over to where John had fallen. He called to him, but blood was already pooling in the steps he’d landed on, he was dead. Thinking himself lucky to survive rather than John unlucky to die, Trask pulled himself to his feet and hid himself around the corner from the hotel.

 

He picked up his radio and called into his station. “Sir,” he said wearily, “we have a situation, and I think John is dead..."

 

1423

 

After what seemed like an eternity just staring at John’s body, Trask’s backup arrived. A car stopped near the hotel and another local policeman stepped out.

 

“Okay, what did you se Trask?” he asked his colleague kneeling by him in what little cover there was.

 

Trask replied, while trying not to scream. “I only saw one guy in there with an AK, he got John... There’s at least one more hostile with a sidearm in there though and maybe a few more. There was a dead security guard lying on the carpet...”

 

Trask paused for a moment and looked at the ground. “They killed John, Sarge... What am I supposed to tell his wife and kids?” A small tear rolled down his cheek.

 

The sergeant placed a consoling hand on his shoulder and replied “You let us worry about that. Just go home, we’ll take it from here!” The sergeant turned around and saw that the rest of the backup had arrived.

 

Within a matter of minutes the building was surrounded and a small unit of S.W.A.T had arrived in case things turned hairy... The Sergeant was confident the gunmen weren’t going anywhere so now it was his move...

 

1430

 

The four gunmen had set themselves up in the hotel lobby, some furniture had been brought in to reinforce their position slightly and a head count had been done on those still in the building. Several of the guests had heard the commotion and wisely fled the building via various exits but the remaining 24 guests and workers were now being held in the managers office, small though it was...

 

As the men stood, sat, knelt and smoked the reception phone rang. A gunman snatched it up and growled a response down it, so tired already he was of explaining to people why they couldn’t make a reservation.

 

The sergeant introduced himself, omitting the unnecessary pleasantries and got straight down to business. “Who are you people and what do you want?”

 

“Okay,” answered the Brit. “I aint got time for you so I’ll make this quick. Get a car behind the hotel, put five hundred grand inside it in a bag. No bugs and no tracking devices or some of these lovely people are gonna start. You’ve got 90 minutes to make it happen, and if it aint done by then... Well, you know what happens if it aint done by then. Don’t ya sarge?”

 

The boss put down the phone and turned back to his men, grinning an evil grin. Then he turned to the receptionist and ran his pistol up the side of her face. “I think if we don’t get it, you can go first darlin... I’ll be doing you a favour,” he said losing his smile and turning away, “your job’s shite...”

 

1457

 

The hotel phone rang again, the same man answered... “Well?” he demanded.

 

“You have a deal,” replied the sergeant grudgingly. “But before….”

 

The prep interrupted. “No buts Sarge. Get the car and the money behind the hotel, then you’ll get your precious hostages. And one more thing, no helicopters and no snipers or you know the score...”

 

The sergeant sighed. “Alright... You got a deal.”

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|TO BE CONTINUED|

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[Dumb_Commander]

RESERVED