William approached the door where the last man was hiding and shot the lock several times, breaking it. Standing to the side, he pushed the door open and extended his gun-holding left hand into the room, firing repeatedly at the person hiding behind the table based on his sensing abilities.
William was very cunning; he didn't expose any part of his body, instead shooting from behind the wall. This is where the Glock 17's advantage came in handy. After exchanging seven or eight shots with William, the man inside ran out of bullets, the sound of empty clicks filling the room as he ducked under the table to reload. William seized this opportunity, stepping into the room and firing through the table, hitting the man underneath. Despite the bullets being partially deflected by the wooden table, the man was hit multiple times but didn't die immediately. William approached and fired a few more shots, finally ending the man's life.
In the dead of night, the gunshots would surely have alerted nearby residents. William didn't hesitate, heading straight to the third floor, searching room by room. Unfortunately, he only found Amanda.
Wasting no time, William wrapped Amanda in a blanket and carried her down to the second floor, dragging the unconscious man along, quickly heading to his car. He first threw the unconscious man to the ground, then placed Amanda in the back seat, tying up the man's hands and feet with zip ties and gagging him before speeding away from the area. Once on the main street, William slowed down to avoid attracting police attention.
He called Brian on his phone. "Beep, beep. Hello, William, any news?" Brian's anxious voice came through.
"Sorry, Brian, I haven't found Ginny yet, but I did find Amanda. I captured an Albanian alive, and I need a place to interrogate him," William said, glancing at Amanda. "Also, Amanda has been injected with white powder. She's in a bad state, going through withdrawal. Brian, do you have a safe doctor? I need to get Amanda treated before interrogating the captive."
"Where are you now, William?" Brian shouted, "Sam, the map! William needs guidance to our safe house."
"I'm just out of Paradise Street, on Baker Street," William replied.
"Three blocks from Baker Street, on Bay Street, we have a safe house there. Giles runs a small hotel there; he's a skilled doctor. You can take Amanda there," Sam shouted.
"Got it, I'm on my way. Also, I need the safe house to interrogate the captive," William said.
"Alright, we'll arrange the safe house for you," Brian said hastily.
William drove for fifteen minutes to Giles' hotel, carrying Amanda inside. Fortunately, it was already late at night, and there were no guests. Giles took Amanda and said to William, "You'd better switch cars. Can you pick locks?"
William nodded and left without further conversation, not wanting to risk exposing his identity to someone unfamiliar. He sensed Giles was a retired special agent with a family, preferring to be cautious.
William drove a few blocks away and stole a regular SUV from a dark spot, transferring the still unconscious man to the new car. He parked his rented Land Rover and even paid for the parking meter.
Back in the stolen car, William called Brian, giving him the location of the rented Land Rover. He didn't have time to handle the car himself. The simplest way would be to drive it to a remote area and burn it, then report it stolen and pay the rental company.
Brian reassured him, saying, "No problem, William. I'll take care of the car. By the way, did you know about the cleaner's service? I thought you did."
William was confused. "What are the cleaners?"
Sam laughed over the phone. "Cleaners are a group of people who help clean up problems like yours. They only handle disposing of bodies, erasing evidence, and cleaning up messes. They're forensic experts and don't get involved in fights. They're evidence removal specialists."
"What? There's actually a group that specializes in this?" William was stunned.
Brian confirmed, "Yes, in both Europe and the USA. Many of them are forensic science graduates. This organization is very old. They even promoted forensic science in Europe to grow their business, making them highly proficient in their field."
William was amazed. They promoted forensic science to grow their business, playing both sides. Impressive.
Curious, William asked, "How much do they charge?"
Brian anticipated William's interest. "They don't take cash, only gold coins. One coin per body. They leave no trace of evidence. These coins are issued by the Continental Hotel, rumored to be worth anywhere from $10,000 to $100,000 each. You can't buy them, only earn them by completing missions for the hotel. But if you're willing to pay $100,000, someone might sell you one. For now, focus on finding Ginny. I'll handle the car."
"Alright." William hung up, thinking about what Brian had said. Continental Hotel? John Wick? That retired guy? No, John Wick should still be active, working for a Russian gang.
Brian must have taken missions from the Continental Hotel, given his familiarity.
William followed Brian's directions to the safe house, circling the area a few times to ensure it was safe before driving into a small yard. He punched the now-awake captive, knocking him out again, and dragged him into the house. He then found something to eat and drink. Having only had a small meal at noon, he was starving. He decided to eat first before dealing with the captive on the ground.
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