Three hundred thousand dollars.
Enough to make anyone pull the trigger.
The target was a nobody.
The choice was obvious.
The bounty hit the underworld like a bomb.
Everyone in the city went crazy.
Outsiders were already rushing in.
“Where is he?” Old Cowboy stared at the empty clinic.
The doctor shrugged.
“He came for medicine.
Left after that.
I don’t know where.” Old Cowboy studied her face.
No lies.
He left without another word.
The doctor sat back down.
She’d bought William some time.
Less than she’d hoped.
William hadn’t gone far.
He realized the problem quickly.
He had nowhere to go.
Running blind meant running into a trap.
His best option was to hole up somewhere defensible and wait.
Wait for what?
You just need to start a fight.
Someone else will finish it.
He retrieved his belongings from the storage center first.
Plans had changed.
On his way back, he spotted eyes on him.
Spotters.
Whose, he didn’t know.
He rented a motel room.
Set up.
Then snuck back to the clinic under cover of darkness.
He wanted to be the ambusher.
The bounty hunters were sloppy.
He found a sniper’s nest, silenced the occupant, and claimed it.
Pain throbbed in waves.
His arm screamed with every movement.
He popped two pills and settled in.
Old Cowboy walked in with his team.
William watched from the window.
Grateful for the head start.
Angry at the man who’d shot him.
I’ll repay that.
He checked his gear.
Two extra guns.
A set of keys.
More options for escape.
He looted two more rooms for supplies.
Left a surprise for the next visitors.
His bounty kept climbing.
The numbers were insane.
Too bad I can’t collect it myself.
Eight hours in.
William moved with the crowd, looking like a backpacker.
Mask.
Sunglasses.
Camera around his neck.
No one gave him a second look.
Hotel’s reaction.
William touched the card in his pocket.
If this doesn’t work, why did I even get it?
The Manager in this city wasn’t aligned with The Harbinger.
If he had been, William wouldn’t have been sent here.
The Hotel’s own channels were safer.
The Harbinger hadn’t left the city yet.
The news reached him quickly.
His subordinate, a sharp-faced woman with a buzzed head, sat across from the city’s Manager.
She asked three questions.
“He sold information to a local gang?” “He built enough trust in three days to orchestrate a major operation?” “After helping that gang and connecting them to the George line, his bounty was bumped by another hundred thousand?” The Manager was sweating.
The woman stayed cold.
High Table was her religion.
Everything under it was perfect.
Ordered.
Clean.
But this manager was breaking that order with a flimsy excuse.
She could already tell William was innocent.
“I’m ashamed, miss.
But the damage is done,” the Manager said carefully.
“A dead nobody matters less than a Hotel Manager’s fall.” She hated the logic.
But he wasn’t wrong.
Exposing this would cause more chaos than William’s death.
“I’ll give you 24 hours.
After that, I’ll return.” She left.
At the door, she paused.
“He was seen on XX Street.” Manager exhaled.
Another gamble won.
Life or death.
His new beginning or his end.
“Spread the word.
Take your men,” he told his silent aide.
“Go.” The Adjudicator took a cab.
She handed the driver a gold coin and a photo.
“Drive.” She studied William’s face.
The photo was recent.
Entering a building.
“Entschuldigung.” A flicker of sympathy.
Then cold resolve.
Organisation Über alles.
The explosion echoed across the city.
William looked up with the other tourists.
Black smoke poured from a building.
Cowboy’s team had arrived at the sniper nest.
They’d been too aggressive.
The first man through the door took a round point-blank.
Then the room blew.
The blast was contained by the walls, but the message was clear.
William was fighting back.
The official response was inevitable now.
The cab stopped at the doctor’s clinic.
The Adjudicator stepped out.
She showed her credentials.
“He was wounded, wasn’t he?” The doctor stayed silent.
“He left too early.
Someone warned him.” The Adjudicator’s eyes bored into her.
“You.” The doctor nodded slowly.
“I see.
Thank you.” The doctor blinked.
“That’s it?” “Of course.” The Adjudicator hesitated.
“He hasn’t been excommunicated.
Just bountied.
You’re only required to refuse service to the marked.” She put her gloves back on.
“His name is still in the system.” She left.
In her hand, William’s file.
Cleaner, it said.
Interesting.
William packed his camera.
Blended into the crowd.
Moving away from the chaos.
Waiting for the next wave to hit.
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