To say that Spencer was shocked at what he saw would be an understatement. Instead of peeling walls and decrepit furniture like he had expected, he was instead greeted with a gorgeous hallway that seemed more fitting in a five-star hotel. Gold-plated decorations gleamed from all around him while extravagant paintings lined the dark burgundy walls. Despite being briefed on the building's layout and what he could expect, it still took Spencer's breath away. It was definitely not the kind of place he expected to see in a gang's headquarters. Of course, the sight of a lone pistol positioned on one of the small nearby cabinets soon brought Spencer back to reality.
Immediately, he realised just how exposed he currently was, visible to anybody who decided to walk down the hallway. Thus, he decided that he needed to move, and with retreat no longer being an option, Spencer began to make his way forward into the belly of the beast, ready to continue the plan. Quietly, he inched his way through the building. As he did so, it didn't take long before the sound of faint chatter could be heard. Still, he continued forward until he soon reached the end of the hallway and faced a fork, with one path leading left and the other going right.
Had the decision been Spencer's alone, the choice would have been obvious. From where he stood, it was clear that both the music and voices were coming from the right-hand side. Not only that, but just from the number of different voices he could hear, he knew that wherever the right path led, it was no doubt filled to the brim with gang members. Unfortunately, he had a job to do. And so, despite every fibre of his body screaming at him not to, he turned to the right–toward what sounded like a party in full swing—in search of his target.
Cautiously, Spencer peeked his head around the corner, towards the source of all the noise. He did so for only a second before instantly pulling himself back out of sight, afraid of being spotted. Still, it was long enough to glimpse a wide-open room, where no fewer than forty people could be seen drinking and partying like crazy. It was a sight that only seemed to reinforce how insane what he was doing was, and how utterly screwed he would be if he wound up getting caught.
Yet despite this, regardless of how much he didn't want to, he knew he needed to get another look. He needed to know whether his target was present in the room or not. So, after mentally convincing himself that, with how drunk they were, they wouldn't even notice, he stuck his head back into view, this time for far longer than a second.
Without wasting a moment, his eyes quickly began to bounce around the room in search. From the men and women playing pool near the wide, open-view window, to the ones snorting powder in the corner or all but grinding on one another in the centre of the room, he scanned them all. Yet still he saw no sign of his target. At least not until he turned in the direction of a particularly fierce and loud laugh. Only then did Spencer finally spot his target, sitting on a blood red sofa that rested on the left-hand side of the room, between two gorgeous women.
He was a giant. That was all Spencer could think as he laid eyes on Ferdinand Salas in the flesh. It was as if he were the only adult in a sea of children. His bulging muscles, humongous figure, and even his very presence all radiated power. The kind that triggered something primal in Spencer, who, despite the distance between them, felt fear grip his heart as he stared in stunned silence.
However, after a few seconds, once the shock had worn off, such fear was promptly replaced by burning excitement. Spencer had done it; he had found his target. For a second, seeing that Ferdinand sat less than thirty metres away, he could feel his grip subconsciously tighten over the pistol he still held. Yet, just as quickly as the thought appeared, it was promptly dashed. Instead, after taking a long, deep breath and giving one last look towards him, Spencer swiftly turned around.
Having seen all that he needed to, Spencer broke out into a sprint down the left-hand hallway. Soon, the rambunctious sound of voices behind him started to fade into the background until, by the time he came to a stop a minute later, they had disappeared completely. Only then did Spencer allow himself a moment of relief, having escaped unseen. However, such relief was short-lived as he soon turned his attention to the towering, dark oak stairs standing before him.
Without wasting a second, Spencer slowly began to make his way up the steps. With every step that he took, he made sure to listen out for any nearby gang members, knowing just how open and vulnerable he currently was. As he did so, looking up to the second storey, he thought back to the second stage of the plan the kidnapper had described.
"Alright, let's say that somehow, through the grace of god, I manage to enter the building unseen, what then? I'm trapped in a building with who knows how many gangsters, all probably armed to the teeth! How do you expect me to even find Ferdinand, let alone get close enough to take him out without getting torn apart by gunfire before I can even think about escaping?" The longer Spencer thought about it, the more agitated he got as it started to feel less like a plan and more like a suicide mission with zero chance of success.
"Trust me, I don't. Based on everything I've learnt about you, I doubt you could shoot him even if he were only ten feet away." The kidnapper stated, his tone brutally blunt. "That's why, instead of you going to Ferdinand, Ferdinand will come to you."
"What do you mean exactly?" Spencer asked in confusion, not understanding his cryptic response.
"I mean, rather than trying to sneak your way close to Ferdinand, you'll instead sneak your way to his room on the second floor. Once there, you will lie in wait until he arrives, piss drunk from partying all night, and in such a condition even someone like yourself should be able to finish him off."
Hearing this, Spencer felt his eyebrows raise high up his head. "You know, that actually seems possible." He muttered in clear surprise. "I guess all I need to know is where his room is located on the second floor?"
Unfortunately, any confidence he possessed was shattered by the kidnapper's eventual reply. "... You see, that's where we run into a bit of a problem"
"That fucking bastard." Spencer quietly uttered as he reached the top of the stairs and was met with a long, winding corridor that he couldn't see the end of.
As he stared at each of the identical-looking doors that spanned the never-ending corridor on either side, Spencer was left wanting to yell in frustration. It turned out that while the kidnapper had been able to learn a lot about the inside of the building, he hadn't been able to learn exactly which room among the countless before him. This meant that, aside from checking each room individually–an incredibly dangerous and boneheaded idea–he had no way of knowing which room belonged to Ferdinand.
'In the movies, the big boss's room is usually at the end, so I guess I should try there first.' He thought to himself in resignation, unable to come up with a better idea.
And so, Spencer began creeping his way through the twisting corridor. To distract himself from the overwhelming fear he felt at just how exposed he felt, able to be easily spotted by anyone who would happen to walk down the corridor, he took a look at his surroundings. Once again, he was awestruck by the sheer beauty and extravagance displayed before him: the dark grey carpet beneath his feet, the vases and statues along either side, the engraved golden door frames on each of the doors. He chuckled to himself, wondering if maybe they'd hired an interior decorator to design the hallways.
Unfortunately, any other thoughts he had about the ostentatious decorations swiftly disappeared when the sound of a lock turning rang out only two doors ahead. Spencer froze, like a deer in the headlights, unsure of what to do as he looked both in front and behind him in a panic for somewhere or something to hide behind. There was nothing.
Slowly, the door began to open, and a male and female voice drifted through the gap. Seeing that he was running out of time and unable to think of any other idea, Spencer did the only thing he could think of. Letting loose a silent prayer in his mind, he rushed towards the closest door to his left, placing his hand upon the handle before pushing down in panic.
As he felt the door click open beneath his grasp, he let out a small sigh of relief before immediately wrenching it open and all but hurling himself inside. No sooner had he slammed the door shut behind him than Spencer swept his gaze around the room in panic. Only after confirming it was empty and hearing the male and female voices outside begin to recede in the distance, did he allow himself to relax.
Finally, having found a space with a modicum of privacy and safety, and needing a moment to calm down his pounding heart, Spencer decided to take a short break. Curious about the room he now found himself in, he began to look around, hoping to uncover something useful. This quickly proved fruitful; within minutes, he uncovered a roll of cash totalling $1,000 in one of the bedside cabinets, which he swiftly pocketed before continuing his search.
While the money was a pleasant surprise, the main target of his search was to try and find something that would reveal which room belonged to Ferdinand Salas. Alas, aside from the wide assortment of trash, weapons and drugs strewn throughout the room, of which he wanted nothing to do with, he found nothing. And so, realising he wasn't going to find what he was looking for here, and with his adrenaline back under control, Spencer knew it was time to press on with the mission.
Cracking open the door just enough to peek his head out, he checked that the coast was still clear. Only then did Spencer slip back into the hallway and continue his way forward. As he moved, his nerves once again flared in unease, his eyes darting across the dim corridor, wary of another sudden surprise like before. Thankfully, despite his worry, as Spencer made his way down the long and winding hallway, no such surprise appeared, and he soon found himself reaching the end of the hallway without issue. The moment he did so, a small smile tugged at Spencer's lips.
Standing before him, a single dark oak door could be seen, one that would have looked just like any of the other numerous doors he had passed, if not for one distinguishing feature. In the very centre of the door sat a large gold plaque, a plaque with the word 'Boss' etched into it in bold letters. It was that plaque that confirmed Spencer's prior assumption: behind the door lay Ferdinand Salas's room.
Unable to contain both his excitement and nervousness, Spencer hurried to the door, his palms slick with sweat as he grasped the door handle tightly. It was then, as the click of the latch echoed down the hallway and the door creaked open, that a wide, cheshire-like grin spread across his face. He had done it. Against all odds, he'd managed to sneak through the entirety of the Ferrymen's base and reach Ferdinand's room. And with a surge of pride–as well as a belief that he could actually succeed, something he hadn't felt all night–he stepped inside and closed the door behind him.
The instant he did so, as he turned his focus to the darkened room he now found himself in, Spencer was struck speechless. Never before, in all his life, had he seen such a bizarre-looking room. It was as if someone had decided to merge the room of a gangster with that of a medieval king. Every object in the room appeared to be coated in gold, polished to such a gleam that it cast a soft yellow glow across the space. Yet amidst such lavish decor, just like the room he'd seen earlier, pistols, assault rifles, and clear plastic bags filled with white powder littered both the king-sized bed and the plush maroon sofa in the corner.
Overall, it was a sight so surreal that it took Spencer several seconds to process before he managed to break out of his stunned trance. However, once he had, he immediately dismissed the strange aesthetic and instead focused on trying to find a place he could hide and wait for Ferdinand to arrive. Eventually, he decided to hide underneath the humongous canopy-style bed at the end of the room, believing it to be spacious enough for him to hide unseen.
With his decision made, Spencer quickly dropped to the floor as he fully crawled under the bed, soon disappearing completely from sight. Not long after he had done so, as he lay unmoving beneath the bed, he soon found himself beginning to relax. No longer did he have to stay on constant alert and worry about the possibility of being spotted at any moment. Because of this, as his eyes slowly began to acclimate to the darkness all around him, his mind began to drift. Specifically, he found himself forced to think about just what it was he was planning to do, something he still hadn't come to grips with, and he had done his best to ignore until now. He was going to kill another human being. It was a concept so foreign and jarring to Spencer's mind that he struggled to accept that it was his reality. But it was, no matter how much he wished to deny it.
To try and distract himself, as his eyes began to acclimate to the darkness of the room, he focused on the pistol still gripped tightly in his hand. He looked it over, checking that everything appeared in working order, even though he doubted he'd notice if it wasn't. His eyes lingered on the large black attachment at the end, the part he'd been told was a silencer, a crucial piece of equipment if he wanted to escape unheard and unseen.
However, no matter how hard he tried, he was only able to occupy his mind for so long. Soon, dread and panic took hold of Spencer, his chest rising and falling in sharp bursts, leaving him gasping for breath as his thoughts snapped back to what he was about to do. He wished he could just disappear, to run away and be as far away from this entire situation. Yet he couldn't, not when his daughter's safety rested solely within his hands.
"I've got to do this! For my daughter!' Spencer thought to himself, trying to muster some kind of resolve. 'This guy's a piece of shit; he deserves to die. If anything, I'm doing the world a favour.'
Such words repeated endlessly within his mind. Yet, regardless of how many times he tried to convince himself of such a fact, it did little to dispel the apprehension and fear that clung to him. That was how the next few hours came to pass, with Spencer hidden beneath the bed in complete silence, tormented by the relentless churn of his thoughts. All the while, he waited anxiously for the click of the door and the final chapter of his mission.