Mercy: Chapter 5Splitting off to work their separate duties, Alastair leads his current team of four to the docks, keeping a close eye on Bruce, noticing a slight sign of annoyance in Bruce’s uncovered eyes. Waiting several minutes, the sound of speed boats gliding along the surface of the water snaps the wait, three vehicles making their way towards the docks. Separating to a dock of their own each, five men step out, two in both boats on the sides, one man from the middle, each dressed sleeveless tees, baggy pants, and masks.
“Hola amigos” greets the individual in the middle of the group of five.
“Hola, tienes todo lo que pedimos?” Alastair asks
“Al igual que nuestros jefes acordaron”
“Bueno. Okay, let’s start loading it in boys. The faster we get this done the faster we can get home”
“Wait, Alastair don’t you think we should check the boxes first in case their lying. Your father won’t be too happy if we don’t bring back everything he asked for” states Bruce
“What? Are you saying you don’t trust our friends here Brucie? How rude of you to accuse them of such treachery went they haven’t done anything in the first place to lose our trust.
“Yeah, **** you puta” spits the other man
Alastair laughs “Besides it would be incredibly foolish of them to trick our family like that having some of them witnessed our might against the Cortez familia. So I highly doubt they would try to earn Mark’s wrath, am I right boys?”
“Good then as I said let’s load everything into the van quickly”
Letting out a groan of discontent Bruce walks over to one of the boats and grabs a box carrying it to the vehicle, Ryan and Cody doing the same after him. Having Bruce occupied, unable to search the boxes for whatever Mark most dearly wanted unless wanting to start a potential mini bloodbath, Alastair and the five Guerreros begin unloading the boats. A few minutes later, a little over halfway through with the work, Alastair stops as he watches Bruce walk to the side of the van, leaning over.
“You okay buddy?” Alastair inquires
“Yeah, I’m fine just old is all. Can’t lift those heavy boxes like I use to when I was your age”
“That’s what sucks about getting older, you only grow weaker”
He nods his head. “So you think those Bellicks are coming?”
“I don’t know, if they haven’t showed by now I guess the whole thing just might have been a rumor, or they pussied out”
“You’re probably right. Let me call Shane an…”
“No it’s okay let me do”
“No I insist, we only have a few more…”
“Seriously Bruce I got it, you just take a breather and rest up alright, I’ll call him.”
Forcing back a dirty look Bruce agrees taking a seat on the ground as Alastair walks away, grabbing his phone out of his pocket, faking a call to his older brother.
“Hey Shane, I just want to…” Stopping for a moment Alastair strains his ear, his suspicions confirmed. “Cody get down!” he yells at Cody whose carrying a box near him, tackling him to the ground narrowly avoiding a bullet as it pierces through Ryan’s skull, blood splattering over Alastair, and the pavement all around. “We’re under attack!” he yells at the top of his lungs, scrambling to his feet pulling Cody with him behind some nearby crates.
Peeking over at the direction the bullet came from, Alastair watches about twenty five men begin their assault leaving the empty cargo boxes. Opening fire taking out several men, he gazes across the field as Peter is struck down by bullets while fighting back men of his own, Sidney able to take down a couple while reaching cover. Holding off the men invading from the north, their scouts in the control building proving to be a distinct advantage picking off the attacking Bellicks one by one, several booming shots are heard from the distance a window breaking shortly after, Greg’s lifeless body falling from his perch. Turning back in the direction of the parking lot, an even larger squad of Bellicks march towards the battlefield, Alastair and his men clearly out numbered, as two of the boat drivers are shot dead. Turning his attention towards the new force, Alastair spots tow oil drums in their path, blasting both with quick shots creating a small diverting explosion, killing several men in the process but creating more time for his men. Pulling out a throwing knife he throws it towards another oil drum closer to his men than the rest, oil spilling out, creating a small river. Using the time to his advantage Alastair grabs his radio, calling his brother.
“Shane! Shane you there! We need your help we’re severely outnumbered!...Shane answer!” Alastair yells to only radio static, finally having realized Mark’s plans in leaving Alastair and his force there to die, Bruce there to summon Shane and his men when Alastair has been killed, probably wanting to shoot him himself to earn even bigger graces with Mark but stuck trying to defend his own ***.
With shots ringing in the dark, night air, not a moment of ceased fire occurring, Alastair raises his weapon, ready to foil Mark’s plot. Watching Derek flee behind cover, while Peyton is shot in his arm, collapsing to the ground as the Bellicks advance from the parking lot, Alastair fires a shot at the river of oil, separating half of their pressing force behind a wall of fire, time to go into action.
“Wait here, and just stay covered” demands Alastair speaking to Cody as he closes his eyes, awakening to his preferred slowed world of danger.
Charging out from behind the cover towards the shipping containers he notices multiple bullets come towards him. Ducking and weaving his way through them like a mine field, he guns down a row of men, that squad nearly eliminated. Empting the remainder of his clip, he lets the gun fall to his side, as he spins around several shots, nearing a gunman. Grabbing a second knife from his belt he slashes the man’s throat before back flipping to dodge a few more bullets from another nearby foe, throwing the knife as he lands into the man’s forehead, his limp body collapsing to the cement. Watching the chaos unfold the final remaining enemy makes a run for it, Alastair quick drawing a pistol from his back pocket, lodging a bullet into the back of the man’s skull. Stepping back behind cover from a shipping container he reloads his gun watching the rest of his squad battle in the process, Peyton’s painful battle ended with a barrage of bullets to his chest as he tries to run from one area of cover to another while Sidney having been distracted from watching Alastair is shot down from behind as the men trapped behind the fire wall circle around to the entrance, more men included than before, reinforcements must have being summoned. Preparing to step back out he watches a man in the back of the group throw a grenade up to Jerry’s locations, Alastair not in position to shoot it down in air, a fiery explosion ensuing above as pieces of the torn apart building collapse onto the battlefield, he team barely scrapping by avoiding the mess unlike a few unfortunate souls crushed on the Bellicks side.
With nearly his whole team wiped out, his remaining men forced to nearly back up to his cover spot, Alastair works his magic again regaining a control of his perception of time, running out trying to attack the Bellicks from behind. Striking two down with thrown knives through their throats, he rolls and evades enemy fire now turned on him, shooting down a handful of Bellick’s in the process. With his ears ringing have not caught a sense of any peace and quiet since the war ensued, he ducks behind a few boxes of crates as several more men turn their focus towards him, barely a dent having been scratched into their forces. As several bullets smash through the crate piercing the outermost la
Joining his brother’s assault, he eliminates foe after foe, the remaining survivors trying to scatter and get away, only to be met with an inevitable death. As the smoke finally clears, and the dust settles, Alastair, stands by his brother as they overlook the sea of bodies now flooding the ship yard. Well over fifty men’s lives having ended. Running to rejoin Cody, Bruce and the surviving Guerrero members by the northern most dock, he begins to laugh after the close call with death, owing his brother a huge debt.
“Glad to see you guys are okay” greets Alastair
“As are we” sarcastically barks Bruce “Shane what are you doing here? I thought for a moment you weren’t going to show” he says as Shane walks over to join them, Sean by his side
“Yeah, my radio broke so I didn’t get your guys call but I heard gunshots, and decided it best to check it out in case and luckily I did. Looks like you guys were in a bit of trouble”
“No we were doing fine, thanks to your little brother here” snips Bruce, trying his best to hold back the anger building up inside of him.
“He is a Whelan after all, he could take down an army if ever offered the challenge.” Bruce shakes his head. “So” Shane picks up again. “How much of the supplies did you get loaded already?”
“We’re almost done” Cody answer “Only a little over a quart…”
Suddenly a thundering shot is heard in the distance, blood suddenly spraying into the air from Alastair’s upper left abdomen, taking a step back as a second bullet strikes him below his right lung, until a third and final bullet is planted into the middle of upper chest, a final shot of blood flying into the air as his body topples backwards into the cold, watery bay, dead.
“Alastair!” Shane yells, until being tackled to the ground by Sean as several bullets strike down another Guerrero.
Staring back at the hill, another army of Bellicks begin to proceed down, locked into battle with Shane’s force, slowly overpowering them with their element of surprise.
“****, we’re getting out of here!” screams one of the drivers watching a third comrade fall, both the surviving two Guerrero’s hopping into the respective boats speeding away as quickly as possible as Sean, Bruce, and Cody engage into battle, Shane still on the ground.
“You cowards!” he yells as they speed away before scrambling back to his feet, surveying the situation, his men trying to hold their own.
“We’re in trouble Shane” Bruce states as he goes to reload his weapon, dropping the cartridge out in the open in a mad attempt to restock his weapon. Braving the risk to go out and grab it, he is struck in the leg by a stray bullet, crashing to the ground in pain. “****!” he yells
Just as situations seem dire, blaring sirens are heard approaching the scene, screeching to a halt at the top of the hill, opening up on the Bellicks their force now trapped, Shane watching, smiling.
“Now’s our chance, back to the van, we need to get the hell out of here while we can” Shane orders
“Don’t need to tell me twice” Cody
Sprinting to the back the van Sean hops into the driver’s seat, Shane taking a spot beside him, with Cody hopping into the back, carrying and injured hopping Bruce with him. Slamming the gas, they run over several fleeing Bellicks on their way to the road. Swinging around turning towards the police, falling under gunfire, the back doors swing open, several boxes and Bruce slipping out, Bruce falling unconscious as his face smashes off the ground. Unable to do anything about it, Cody closes the doors right as they speed by the attempted barricade, barely escaping with their lives. Speeding away, taking back roads to remain undetected, Shane looks out his window gloomily.
“Hey Shane, what’s wrong man?” Sean asks noticing Shane’s mood.
“Alastair, I just can’t believe…”
“What you mean that wasn’t an act back there in front of that kid Cody? Those shots weren’t your plan?”
“No, I could never do that to my brother. I only said I was going to kill after the operation to get you guys there so I could rescue him. I couldn’t just sit back like that and listen to my brother take on an army by himself.”
“Wow…I can’t believe you lied to me like that Shane. I’m hurt”
“Shut the **** up Sean. I don’t want to hear it”
“Whoa, calm down there bud. Just be happy that he’s dead just as your father asked. You wouldn’t want to have had to deal with him if you foiled his plan like that”
“I said shut up” he mutters
“Fine, I see how it is”
Continuing the rest of their journey back to the house silent, the thought of Alastair’s death fails to escape the three survivor’s minds.