Nick Sievers' POV

I knocked on the door.  "Room service," I said in a high-pitched voice. Anyone who fell for it was an idiot.

And apparently the people inside the room were idiots. A man swung the door open and I knocked him out with a single punch. I nodded in satisfaction and stepped over his collapsed body. I wasn't the world's best hitman for nothing.

I heard the click of a gun's safety release and peered into the dimly lit room. Two men stood in my line of vision, pointing their weapons at me.

But there was only one click.

Maybe one of the gang member's guns didn't have any bullets, I don't know. But only one gun was loaded.

I approached the two men, watching for telltale signs. A twitch in the face, a trembling finger.

"Who are you?" one asked.

I shrugged. "That's for me to know and you to find out." I shrugged. "Or you could just die and never know." I squared up, but the man I was preparing to fight shook his head.

"What?" I asked. "Afraid?"

Both men stepped aside simultaneously, holstering their guns and holding their hands up slowly.

I looked at them curiously. What kind of trick was this?

"You think I'm going to trust you that easily?" I asked.

Each man fired his gun in the air, and no bullet appeared. I inspected the ceiling. Not even a slight mark or hole.

I wasn't an idiot, though. Just because they didn't have bullets didn't mean they couldn't use their fists. I kneed one in the groin, and he keeled over. I took the opportunity to kick him in the face, causing him to collapse.

The other man simply put his hands up, though, the gun making a gentle thud on the carpet. His eyes darted between me and the door, me and the door. As he turned to run, I managed to catch his leg with mine, and he went tumbling to the floor.

The man got back to his feet and lunged for me. I ducked and rolled, picking up his discarded weapon on my way.

Unlike my idiot opponent, I knew any weapon could be used in more than one way.

I brought the butt of the gun down as hard as I could on the man's head. He fell, too, beside the other unconscious guard.

One click. I had heard one click of a gun being loaded. Yet neither of those men had. So who had loaded their gun.

I stepped further into the room and closed the door behind me. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I began to make out figures. There was a single chair in the middle of the room. I could hear labored breathing. Then, a light flicked on.

In the chair sat a bloodied Aldridge. Her eyes were wide with fear as she tried to register what was happening. A man standing beside her held a handgun to her head.

"Take a step closer," the man said, "and I'll blast her brains out."

I stayed silent, and Aldridge closed her eyes. Her lips began moving in what looked like a silent prayer, and I looked back at her captor.

I laughed. "You think I'm here for her?" Aldridge's eyes widened in shock, then panic set into her features as her forehead wrinkled. But what had she expected? "No. She forced me to help her. But now that I'm free, I think it's time for a little revenge." I smiled wickedly and watched the director struggle against her bonds.

Oh, what fun this would be.