American variety show: Sniper Elite

Chapter 39 Accident
In the back alley of the Red Circle Club, under the dim light, a gray-haired Russian gangster leaned against the door frame, puffing on a cigarette.

In the flickering glow of the cigarette, John's P30L was already silently pressed against the back of his head: "Good evening, Francis."

The low greeting sent a shiver down the old guard's spine.

Just as he slowly turned around, Beta's gun butt slammed down with a whoosh. A muffled thud followed, then a swift finishing blow, ensuring the old guard could have a long, sweet dream.

“I can persuade him to leave,” John said with a hint of regret.

Beta checked the door lock without looking up and said, "And then what? How is he supposed to explain to his boss how two professional assassins like us could just swagger in right under his nose?"

The metal door hinges creaked slightly, and the back door opened with a click.

John gripped his pistol and stepped into the dimly lit corridor first, followed closely by Beta. The two maintained tactical formation and disappeared into the club.
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The back door of the Red Circle Club leads directly to the staff area.

The dimly lit corridor connected the bathrooms, toilets, and changing rooms. It was peak business hours, and all the dancers were busy in the front area, while the back area was quiet.

John holstered his pistol and drew his dagger. He moved closer to the corner, grabbed a gangster who was playing on his phone, and the sharp blade pierced his ribs with precision. The man didn't even have time to react before collapsing into the urinal, his eyes filled with shock, and he stopped breathing.

Beta stood guard with his gun at the ready, his eyes scanning every corner.

John covered the wound with the victim's coat, then swiftly pulled out his dagger, drawing a trail of blood. The two exchanged glances, switching formation in perfect unison: Beta with his gun in front, John with his knife at the rear.

The sound of metal lockers closing echoed from the locker room, followed by the sound of running water and off-key humming.

Beta lightly touched the trigger guard with his right index finger, locking the gun to the source of the sound, and made a hand gesture with his left hand. John moved in like a ghost, and the moment the gangster in front of the sink looked up, he delivered a heavy punch that knocked him to the ground.

Just then, the bathroom door next door suddenly opened. A gang member who was drying his hair with a towel froze on the spot, his gaze shifting from his unconscious companion to John.

Before he could utter a sound, Beta's silenced rifle made a soft "pop." The bullet pierced his forehead, and the man fell backward, headfirst. John rushed forward, grabbed his collar, and gently laid the body down.

After quickly checking the bathroom and confirming it was safe, Beta nodded to John.

John stared at the prisoner, whose face was covered in blood: "You've been to my house, I remember you. Where is Iosef?"

“Сукаблядь!” (Russian swear word) “The prisoner cursed, spitting blood.”

John delivered a vicious knee strike to the man's groin. The gang member screamed in agony and collapsed to his knees.

John ripped off the belt of his bathrobe, wrapped it around his neck, and slammed him heavily against the sink. With a muffled thud, John turned on the faucet with one hand, blocked the drain, and pressed his face hard into the rapidly rising water.

Bubbling water rose and fell. John stared at his watch, silently counting to six, then suddenly lifted the man up: "Where's Iosef?"

"A swimming pool on the ground floor below." The other person coughed violently, his face covered in snot and tears.

John grabbed his hair and slammed his face against the ceramic sink: "You killed my dog!"

Beta added, "They also broke Helen's glass cutlery."

Before he finished speaking, he raised his hand and pulled the trigger. With a muffled "thud," the silenced rifle bullet pierced the skull. The splattered blood bloomed into an abstract painting on the mirror, the corpse slumped on the dark floor tiles, the gradually spreading pool of blood reflecting the pale white light overhead.

John and Beta exchanged a glance.

Beta flung open the rusty iron door to the employee entrance, the metal hinges groaning gratingly: "What are you waiting for?"

John bent down to pick up the phone next to the body and quickly followed.

Passing through the dimly lit corridor and pushing open the last fire door, the underground swimming pool area comes into view. The shimmering pool water reflects blue lights, and deafening electronic music echoes in the enclosed space.

The two quietly made their way up the steel staircase to the VIP observation deck. John paused, looking through the glass railing. Iosef was floating leisurely in the middle of the pool, surrounded by four or five women in the mist, along with several of his henchmen, who were also soaking in the pool, embracing a few women.

"Split up?" Beta asked John.

John nodded.

Beta turned and disappeared into the shadows of the equipment room, the hum of the ventilation ducts quickly drowning out his footsteps. John, on the other hand, continued along the observation deck, the holster's snap clicking softly during the breaks in the music.

Beta's figure blended completely into the shadows of the stairwell corner, separated from Iosev only by a few shimmering floor-to-ceiling windows. Dazzling spotlights, refracted by the pool water, constantly shifted their angles, enveloping the entire pool area in a mesmerizing play of light and shadow.

A woman wearing a high-cut swimsuit strolled along the edge of the pool.

She gently pushed the tray filled with drinks into the water, then gracefully glided in. Ripples washed over her curvaceous body, propelling the floating tray towards Iosev. Water droplets gathered at her collarbone, sparkling like diamonds under the spotlight.

Iosev raised his champagne glass high, his voice eight octaves louder than usual from the alcohol: "One more round!"

His henchmen let out gruff laughter, the clinking of glasses ringing out crisply in the steamy space.

Beta aimed the scope at Iosev.

A gunshot suddenly rang out from the VIP area on the second floor.

Beta instinctively raised his gun and pointed it at the source of the sound. John Wick was fiercely fighting with a burly man by the railing, their figures appearing and disappearing in the flashing lights.

In that split second of distraction, Beta turned around abruptly, only to find that Iosef had already slithered into the bottom of the pool like a cunning water snake, quickly swimming toward the nearby escalator.

The entire pool area erupted instantly: screams from the girls, shouts from the bodyguards, and the shattering of glassware, mixed with deafening background music, created a suffocating sound wave in the enclosed space.

Beta decisively pulled the trigger, the silenced rifle emitting muffled "thuds." The bullets pierced through multiple layers of tempered glass, spiderweb-like cracks spreading wildly across the glass, shattering window after window.

He tried to pinpoint the target who was barely visible in the crowd, but Iosef's bodyguards displayed amazing professionalism. Some of them formed a human wall with their bodies, some used panicked bikini-clad women as human shields, and some even lifted floating food tables to create obstacles.

Each bullet could only tear through the splashing water, but it never hit the slippery target.

(End of this chapter)