four hundred thousand on her – exclusive contract. wick presses the cool metal stock of his full sized rifle against him, nestled in the nook formed by his arm & shoulder. one eye closes, the other draws close to the scope & he finds his target there in the apartment complex, standing near the window. with no deliberation required, he takes aim & squeezes the trigger.
maybe it’s just because he doesn’t like being told what to do, but vasiliy goes right ahead and touches the car all the same. vasiliy leaves behind four big fingerprints, which leave him feeling very satisfied, thank you, before he steps back.
when he smiles, it’s that sort of fuck you smile he wears so well. and so often.
‘ needs a wash, man. ’
expression unchanging, john cants his head & directs his unyielding, steel gaze at the other. that glowering stare follows the other man as he walks, & the unleashed pit bull sitting next to john is keeping a low, steady growl. but it’ll take more than that to tap into the vast wells of rage & dismay that’s nestled in his darkened soul. he can’t fly off the handle every time an idiot does something an idiot would do. but he’s imagining it, examining the grimy smudge that’s been applied to his car.
wick pulls open the door of his otherwise pristine muscle car, letting the dog jump in before putting a foot in. but before he climbs in all the way, he addresses the other man once more, recognizing him now.
“ volkov, isn’t it?
Болтуна язык до добра не доведёт. “
her hands are placed firmly on her hips, not willing to move. she’s not invurable to bullets, she knows. but she can create a barrier between him and herand the civilians behind them.
“ i can’t. you know what heroes do after all.” she purses her lips. “there are innocent people here.”
unfortunately for people like her, john is a man of exceptional will & conviction. he makes a decision while she’s giving her witty little speech & acts on it without hesitation.
wick shifts & fires three shots into the crowd, & re-centers on the hero. the same number of civilians collapse to the ground, wailing in agony. but since his intentions are to both make a point & provide pressure, all shots are through & through. if he wanted them dead, though, they would be.
“If we pull this off it would make us rich enough to retire. Mr. Wick, I urge you to reconsider.”
there he is, dressed like a million bucks & john is in a plain white shirt with a pair of striped boxers on, standing in his doorway. wick purposefully makes a bit of room as he glances back into his impressive home, which is now one person lighter since his wife is in the hospital again. he turns back to james, answering quiet & coarse.
“ … i am retired, jimmy. someone else can do the job. i could give you a recommendation. “
“ is this the part where i’m suppose to say ‘die’? “ she puts on a show, but eliza is keeping her distance. or, lazer girl is.
precisely what he means to say. he’s glad she’s saved him the effort of explaining. “ yeah. ” john replies, aiming down the holographic sights of his assault rifle.
“ now, i know you’ve succeeded against people like me before. but stay out of this. because if you interfere, you won’t walk away. not from me. ”
