Bobbie and Emil race down the hallways of Blue Lake, hoping they can make it to Ellis’s room in time. Bobbie had time-shedded in a short time before, found Chargin’ Charlie and quite a few of the others, and just laid it on ‘em. It hadn’t gone over too well at first, but with persistence Bobbie had convinced them that, yes, the Trifecta was indeed in full swing. After that a quick explanation of what was to come followed, and then Bobbie said he needed one good man. Emil had stepped forward, that ever-present tobacco pipe of his wedged firmly between his teeth and puffing away. Bobbie had nodded, and now both were racing down the hallways, trying to save the Dutchman.
And then they were there, at his door.
“This is it… you ready?” Bobbie asks Emil.
The lieutenant colonel nods and puffs away on that pipe of his while bringing up his Heckler & Koch HK MP5 submachine gun. “The big dog’s
Bobbie nods. “Then let’s do this.”
Inside Ellis’s room, Carl begins to chuckle, and then laugh. “Oh, Ellis…
Ellis’s eyes narrow and his brow furrows. His heart begins to race and pump adrenaline into his system, and as the flight-or-flight response kicks in, Ellis wonders what he’s gotten himself into, and how. Before he can get another question in, however, Carl is reaching into his pants pocket. Ellis’s eyes go wide as his friend pulls out a flash gun.
“I’m sorry, Ellis,” Carl says as he points the weapon at the Dutchman, “you were always a good friend to me.”
Ellis puts his hands up in a ‘wait’ kind of gesture. “Carl, you don’t have to—”
BANG!
Ellis’s eyes jerk to the door as it bangs open, kicked open most likely.
“Bobbie… Emil!”
“Good to see you too, sir,” Emil says as he comes in, his machine gun leading the way. On the floor before him is Carl, moaning slightly but starting to get up. Emil lowers his machine gun’s muzzle down to the back of Carl’s head.
“No!” Bobbie says loudly, nearly shouting. “We can’t kill him — he’s got to be alive to get killed
“Oh,
“Rescue Mark?” Ellis says, looking at Bobbie with confusion written all over his face.
Bobbie rolls his eyes. “We don’t have time to explain now,” he says, grabbing Ellis by the arm and heading toward the door, “let’s just say that after Carl killed you — which he did back there, by the way — then he tries to pin the murder on Mark.”
“Pin the murder…?” Ellis begins, trailing-off as Bobbie gets to the door and lets go of him, the better to stick his head out and look both ways down the long hallway.
“Heavy, right?” Emil says from behind Ellis, putting a hand on his back to nudge him forward a bit. “I don’t understand the half of it, myself, but you gotta admit that Carl back there… well…”
“Well what?” Bobbie says from the doorway, looking back in. “Carl was gonna kill you and you know it. Now let’s go while the coast is clear and—”
Bobbie never finishes the sentence. He’s halfway through it — and halfway through the door — when a loud ‘blast’ sounds and from further down the hall. Both Ellis and Emil watch in shocked horror as Bobbie is ripped apart, almost like a sawed-off shotgun hit him and blew most of his chest and throat and even some of his face away.
“Get back!” Ellis shouts without hesitation, putting his arms up backing up.
“Outta the way, sir!” Emil says from behind him, and instead of being shoved out of the way he moves around Ellis and forward, bringing up his machine gun all the while. He glances over his shoulder as he’s past, blowing out a puff of smoke as he does so. “No offense, sir, but I’ve got this,” — he holds up the machine gun — “and you ain’t got diddly-squat!”
Ellis can’t argue with that so he shrugs and cocks his head to one side. Ahead of him Emil nods and turns back to the door, and the mess that remains of Bobbie that’s still visible out in the hallway. He’s halfway there when a figure jumps out, right into the doorway, and with his flash gun aimed right at Emil.
BOOM!