John's Domination

Chapter 3

Days after the little room incident. Consistently. John was pulled into freezing cold showers, made to lift weights he thought would amputate his limbs. Backed by a calculated diet his fats give way to actual muscles. Hair grew till its length covered his face and a clipper was taken to it. He was barbed bald. Between events, he watched the news with rapt attention but saw nothing about Melissa. He would see Richard in the halls and they'd ghost walk past each other. 

One day, after his usual drills, he stood in front of his bathroom mirror  feeling the spamic effect of the weights racing up his spine. Scars decorated his face and body; remnants of his fall. A thin scar, about the size of an eraser, ran down one side of his cheek. On his body, they resembled the works of long-clawed rats. 

There was a knock at the door but he ignored it. 

 A bald muscular man who tilted toward the scary stared back at him from the mirror. 

Alice kicked his door open, she was dressed in a black crop top with matching street jeans and her dark hair was let down.  John smiled at her frown when she walked into the mirror's view. Like with Richard, their relationship was still as cold as ice. In his defense, it's hard to bond with the person that put you through torturous training. 

"Hey! What're you doing?" Alice's voice sliced through John's nerves like a knife.

John's shoulders slumped as he stepped out of the bathroom. His voice tinged with irritation. "What did it look like? Fishing? I have to change, so get out already."

Alice hesitated for a moment, her brows furrowed. "I'll wait outside. We're heading out on your first task but you seem to be in a hurry," she said.

She slammed the door when she left. John glanced in that direction, contemplating if a compliment on her looks might have eased the situation. 

Outside a big mansion with a black gate behind him, John stood with a blindfold securely fastened over his eyes. The warmth of late summer in Los Angeles brushed against his skin as two men, dressed in black, carefully guided him to a waiting car. He could only assume that they were members of his father's gang, a suspicion that soon proved true.

"Welcome," Alice's voice greeted him as the red Lamborghini SVJ roared to life and began moving. John estimated they made at least a dozen turns before she spoke again. "You can remove the blindfold now."

John removed the blindfold and relaxed into the plush seat. He couldn't help but smile despite the circumstances. The towering buildings on either side of the road were bathed in city lights, and the majestic palm trees swaying in the breeze always made him feel special. "Here comes the king," he thought, savoring the view.  

"How do you like your new look?" Alice inquired.

"Not so much. You shaved off my long hair, replaced my glasses with contacts, and now I'm sitting here wrapped in a tight gray suit," John replied.

"Don't be so negative! You look good," Alice said with a laugh. "Besides, it works. No one would recognize this version of you when we arrive.” She paused, slowing down their speed to hold his gaze. “Xavier and Melissa would be there, it's important you're not recognized or we'll both be dead."

"And where is that?"

"You'd see," she replied. "But remember, we're only going to gather information. Don't cause a scene. Do you understand?"

John nodded. "I'll try not to."

Alice shook her head but said no more as the car advanced downtown, passing the towering skyscrapers until mid-level buildings surrounded them. John surmised this was where those past their financial prime settled. They arrived at a bar with an open space, its sign had only six lit letters in its name. It read, "Let Bar."

The location had an opaque glass window that was enough to shield the interior from prying passersby because it was directly off the road. Alice pulled into the driveway and parked a few feets from two heavily tinted Mercedes Benz cars. Walking toward the entrance, with Mellissa in one arm and flanked on each side by two men dressed in black suits, was Xavier. And John stared with clenched fists, the anger resurfacing, an urge to confront Xavier building within him. But Alice's earlier warning echoed in his mind, so he looked away and worked at releasing his seat belt. They disappeared into the bar. 

"Those men aren't Spectre members," Alice whispered. "What could they possibly want with Spectre?"

She handed him a .45 caliber gun. "John, just for safety,” She said when his brow raised. “Don't use it unless absolutely necessary."

John nodded, but his hands caressed the little device. "Who are they?" he asked.

Alice met his gaze. "I'm not sure, but for now, let's go in."

The hinges of the door creaked as they stepped in, announcing their entrance. John's keen eyes swept the interior of the bar, revealing four tables arranged in two rows. Two tables occupied the front row, and two were positioned behind, all facing the counter where a busy bartender worked. Xavier and his gang occupied the first table, strategically situated near the glass window and the entrance. A subtle jazz beat played in the background, its source not within the room. To their left, a wall of hanging beads led to another area.

A man, known as Sam, emerged from behind the bead curtains. Alice's face lit up as she spotted him. "Uncle Sam!" she called out, her smile infectious. The man's grin widened upon seeing her. "You're back in town." She added as they hugged. 

John proceeded to the twenty-two-year-old bartender. "Two beers. Chilled. Last table," he ordered. The young man took a look at the scar on his face and nodded in quick successions.  

John overheard Xavier's speech as he walked toward his table. "The program works. The bank operation is proof that it does. Dark Arts has nothing to fear from me. And - " Xavier seized talking once he sighted John. There was no recognition in his eyes, it made John's skin crawl. You bastard! He thought. It was an insult for the man to just dismiss his face like an ant squashed for fun. But it was better, no, it was great. All the best for his revenge. John grinned. 

John took his seat at the last table in the row, positioning himself so he had a clear view of the entire bar.  Xavier and Melissa had their backs to him, but John noticed the two suited men at their table casting glances his way. He discreetly reached for the gun, placing it beside him on the chair. The bartender came with two chilled beers, behind him, Alice made her way toward John, wine glass in hand, her steps slightly unsteady from her half-drunk state. 

The black-suited men at Xavier's table grinned when Alice passed them. Melissa attempted to turn back to get a glimpse, but Xavier held her head with his gaze fixed ahead, observing the surroundings through the window for any potential threats.

An unsettling feeling settled over John as the bartender placed the two beer bottles on his table. The bartender had a gun tucked to his belt. Everything else happened fast. 

 Alice swayed causing the drink to slip from her grasp and shatter on the floor. John's instincts went on high alert. Uncle Sam, with an apologetic look, moved quick. He maneuvered Alice behind the chair of the first table. Behind him, the two men in suits rose to their feet. The air crackled with tension. 

In an instant, chaos erupted. Sam shielded Alice as the two suited men opened fire. One bullet shattered the beer bottle on John's table, while three others pierced the bartender, leaving him lifeless. 

John seized his own gun and snatched the bartender's weapon. He leaped to the side as his beer exploded, returning fire with lethal precision. The two assailants fell with headshots. Out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed Xavier and Melissa fleeing the bar. He noted the gun in Xavier's hand and his flash drive clutched in Melissa's.

Rolling and taking cover behind the now-empty table, John raised his head with care. In the blink of an eye, he ducked again, narrowly avoiding a hail of bullets that shattered the glass window. It blew in and came crashing to the floor. Xavier emptied his gun in their direction as he made his escape.

John emerged from cover, the two assailants lay dead on their side of the table, but John couldn't help but notice that the black briefcase was nowhere to be found. He rolled to his feet and sprinted out of the restaurant. But could only watch Xavier's car speed away in one of the tinted black Mercedes Benz. In a burst of frustration, he fired six rounds at the car, but they merely bounced off its armored frame.

Returning to the restaurant, John assessed the situation with a calm and composed bearing. Many bullets had found their mark on the young man named Andrew, as indicated by his name tag, now lying lifeless in a pool of his own blood. 

John heard a faint sound, and made his way to the chair where Sam hid. To his relief, no bullets had harmed Alice. He bent down and gently pulled her away from Sam's embrace, keeping the gun trained on Sam. Alice stirred and slowly opened her eyes.

"Now, tell me," John demanded, his voice firm. "Why did you betray Alice?"

Sam, despite his injuries, managed a weak smile. Tears welled up in Alice's eyes as she watched him. He coughed, expelling a mouthful of blood, and continued to speak.

"I would never betray Alice," Sam insisted. "I watched her grow up. That's why when I saw that she was the one who came, I tried to stall. I thought I could handle them after I made her sleep in my office, but she wanted to see you and ran out. It was Richard they were after. He was the one that was to visit me."

Alice's eyes widened, and John fingers tightened around the trigger. He pointed it at Sam's head.