Lucky Dog 1 translations 10 Ivan route 06
Part 3: Daivan
Ambush of Our Own
…The Mercedes heads down some block of a downtown street even I don’t know. It’s a district in Daivan I’ve never set foot in before.
The Mercedes slides up to the damp sidewalk and parks when a young man runs up.
Ivan’s Subordinate C: Big Bro, thank goodness you’re safe.
|Ivan: Yeah. We’ll be using the room. Don’t worry. He’s one of mine.|
The guy hesitates a bit before opening the door to the passenger side. Before I can set foot onto the sopping wet sidewalk, the driver’s door opens and Ivan steps onto the street.
Ivan: Nothing’s happened?
Ivan’s Subordinate C: Yes, nothing at all.
Ivan signals me with his hand and walks me to the apartment. Suddenly, he stops and turns.
|Ivan: Oh, right. Hey, get food for two. Just the usual’s fine. Thanks.|
He orders the young soldier and disappears past the apartment’s entrance.
|Gian: I’ve never seen you around before.|
Ivan’s Subordinate C: …Yeah, I watch the place – I mean, yes, I am the guard here.
The guy’s English has some accent from who-knows-where. …He probably doesn’t know who I am…
Ivan’s Subordinate C: I’ll … be leaving now, to buy the food.
…But, the kid knows that I’m someone Ivan played chauffeur for, so he’s nervous.
I give him a wave and follow after Ivan.
Ivan climbs up the creaky stairway and opens up a door on the third floor. He glances around the room before entering.
…a butt-naked empty room. …The only thing there is the amazingly sturdy lock. How to put this… Now that I think about it, it’s very Ivan-like.
I turn the lock…
…and then, I just realize something.
|Gian: There’s only one bed here!|
|Ivan: Huh? Yeah. …D-D-Doesn’t matter, does it?! It doesn’t … matter, right…?|
|Gian: What’re you blushing for, dipshit! …What, is this the special place you take all your lays?|
|Ivan: Th-That’s not what I meant, stupidhead!! A-Anyways! It’s not like I’d ever planned to bring anyone here in the first place!!|
Yeah, yeah. I give a sigh as I turn towards the door…
Suddenly, I feel something grab my neck from behind … but just as the thought hits my brain, his arms wrap completely around me instead, like an embrace.
|Ivan: …Nnh, haa … mm …!|
|Gian: W-Whoa! Time out, time out! What’re— Uwah?!|
He holds me tight from behind.
|Ivan: …You … fucking bastard…! Teasing me … with the bed … and all…! Shit, this’s amazing, I’m already…|
|Gian: …Wh-What? What’re you— Aah! Hey…!|
…He grips my chest with both hands, hard and sharp. It feels like I’ve got a muzzle or a club jabbing into my back…
|Gian: Y-You idiot, what’re you… Why’re you completely hard?!|
|Ivan: N-No shit I am!! Fuck … You smell so good…!!|
…What?! Rather, that just means you haven’t taken a bath in a long time!!
|Gian: …Y-You can’t do this now! Stop! That guy’s … gonna be back soon…!|
|Ivan: It’ll be fine…! It takes ten minutes … to buy the usual stuff!|
|Gian: Gaah! Wh-What the hell?! What the hell’s up with this timing?!|
|Ivan: Sh-Shut up!! We just don’t open the door ‘s all!|
A-Aah! There goes my belt…
|Gian: S-Stop… Um, can’t we do this … after food…?|
|Ivan: We can just do it again after food…!|
Wow. Mamma, he’s not on the same page as me! He’s not even in the same book! I … I feel like my head’s a complete mess…
If Luck > 80, view extra scene, +10 Luck, -10 Omerta. If not, +10 Omerta and view normal scene.
And suddenly, a name floats up in my mind…
|Gian: W-Wait, hold it! We’ve gotta call Bernardo…!|
|Ivan: …Wha? We could do that any— …Tsk… Shit! Fuckfuck! Shit!|
‘Shit’ and ‘fuck’ rapid fire from Ivan’s mouth as his hands leave my body.
Ivan: Shit! …Fucking nagging bastard…! …The phone’s over there. Just go and get it over with!
In a bad mood, or, rather, in a pouting tantrum fit that’d make a spoiled brat proud, Ivan pulls off a wooden box cover by the bedside and takes out an ancient-looking phone.
|Ivan: Just get it over with! The phone bill’s really high!|
|Gian: Wow, aren’t you stingy.|
|Ivan: Shut up! If I asked the family to pay the bill, then Bernardo’d find out where this place is, so it’s not like I’ve got a choice!|
Ivan flops onto the bed, complaining up a storm. …Your boner’s still there, completely. I fix up my loosened pants and pick up the receiver, when…
We both exclaim in surprise at the same time and our voices mix. And, simultaneously, we look towards the door where the knock came from.
…Ah, the kid who went to buy the grub?
|Gian: Aah, right! Food’s he—|
Before I can finish my words, Ivan’s hand shoots out like a snake.
A breath of silence, and a voice comes from behind the door.
Ivan’s Subordinate C: …I’ve … brought the food…
But … Ivan doesn’t move. Frozen like a painting.
Ivan’s Subordinate C: I got the usual … the Italian salami … sandwich…
The voice continues on from behind the door…
|Gian: …? …Huh?|
…Ivan’s guy went … and bought Italian…? Just then…
…Knocks. Four of them.
In my head, I remember what happened a few days ago…
I run through my memories of the last few days. Of the time I’d spent with him. The places, the words…
And, prick, the hairs on the back of my neck stand straight up.
|Ivan: …Wait a sec. I’m opening up now.|
Ivan says this in a voice that sounds like two rocks grating each other. He turns towards me.
I give a small, very small, nod.
Ivan signals me with a hand, ordering me to sink into the shadows behind the bed. I nod and move…
Ivan slowly pulls out his 45-automatic before approaching the door, sliding along the wall.
I also pull out my piece from my belt and grip it tightly.
Ivan … using the muzzle of his gun, turns the lock to the door.
A click of metal echoes through the room. And then, silence.
The door opens, and from beyond the darkness behind the door.
Ivan’s Subordinate C: …
The young man from before takes a few shaky steps forward into the room, and then…
…from behind, an enormous, flashy black gun slithers out. And then a man’s hand, gripping the huge pistol. A wrist. A coat-covered shoulder, and then a sweat-slicked face…
…In that instant, a bullet from the 45-automatic smashes into the side of the face and shatters it into an explosion of fresh blood and gray matter, tooth chips and bone fragments.
|Ivan: Get down!!|
At the same time, the young soldier held at gunpoint yells at Ivan in a raw voice.
Ivan’s Subordinate C: There’s two more!! They’ve got a shotgun and explo—
Those are the only words he manages before a shotgun burst roars and his body folds over and collapses.
Ivan howls and fires his 45 wildly through the doorway.
…My mind’s wiped completely blank.
I barely manage to brake myself before flashing myself in front of the door, instead sliding flat against the wall. From behind the door, I can hear the angry shouts of English.
Again, a burst of shotgun fire explodes from down the hallway. Chunks of the half-open door on the opposite side fly off as if gouged out by a spoon.
I duck back to avoid the splinters.
I look through the holey door and poke my gun through, firing away without even aiming.
There’s two gangsters. I hit the guy wearing a coat standing in front and he falls.
Then, Ivan flies forward. He ducks low … lower … and leaps forward, practically crawling as he skids into the hallway.
Sliding, he pumps the jumper-wearing hoodlum full of metal. Gunfire and smoke well up in the narrow hallway.
Hitman 1: Guaaah!!
Blood, gunpowder smoke, the pungent stench of ruptured gut clog my senses. A silence suddenly descends, drowning out the whimpers.
…Silence. The two of us gasp, heaving like beasts as our breaths mingle. Ivan slowly lowers his gun…
|Gian: Ivan, is he from the GD…?|
I turn back … and see Ivan, expression twisted more than it’s ever been before, standing over the jumper-wearing corpse and looking down at it.
Ivan: He’s…! Fuck! Fuck, fuuck!! Can’t believe this…!!
Ivan curses and holds his head in his hands.
|Ivan: The fucker … he’s one of my men…|
|Ivan: Fuck…! I’m such an idiot!! This isn’t the time to be suspecting Bernardo!! Of all places, my own troops … has traitors!!|
Ivan could practically be spitting out blood as he groans. …I see. Otherwise, the GD bastards wouldn’t have been able to find this hideout so quickly…
|Gian: Crap!! The GD bastards’re here!|
|Ivan: Tsk…!! This way, Gian!!|
My mind’s still half-blank when I nod. Ivan dashes into the room before…
After I’d pilfered coat man’s shotgun, I suddenly notice his leather bag. I help myself to that as well…
We dash into the room…
… and shove the bed in front of the beat-up door to barricade it. There’s no way there’s only three GD fuckers here. …They’re definitely gonna come onto us like a horde of hornets.
Ivan’s Subordinate C: Guh … cough…
Behind us, the young soldier who’d been sent flying earlier … is gasping blood-muddled breaths.
Ivan’s Subordinate C: …Guh … ugh… I-I’m sorry… I let … my guard down … because they were one of us…
Ivan keeps quiet at that and nods. …The soldier … had gotten a shotgun blast to his side. …There’s no way he’ll…
|Ivan: You saved us. It’s all thanks to you. …Leave your family to me. I’ll take care of them.|
The man gives a painful cough … and closes his eyes…
Ivan silently stands.
Ivan and I hug the wall almost at the same time and look down through the window. There…
Like a light at the end of the tunnel, I see the hood of the pure white Mercedes … and the shining reflections of several crisscrossing headlights.
|Ivan: …They’re here!|
|Gian: …The whole party’s here…!|
I give a forced smile … and then stare. …We’ve barricaded the exit out, but…
|Gian: H-Hey. Don’t tell me we’re holding down the fort here?|
|Ivan: ‘course not. We’re making a break for it.|
Ivan gives a wide grin, canines flashing so wide I’m reminded of a dog, and goes to where the bed was. There…
Ivan places his hand against the wood-boarded wall and gives a few shoves. The wall slowly starts sliding, and a shivering cold wind flows into the room.
|Gian: An escape route, huh? …Oh right, phone…|
I kind of have a bad feeling … but I grab the damaged phone receiver anyways. …No response at all. The line’s been cut.
|Ivan: Fuck…! If we could just get to the car…|
I adjust my grip on the shotgun I’d picked up earlier… And then I suddenly notice the leather bag I’d left lying there after I’d grabbed it.
Despite its bulginess, it’s pretty light. I open the bag, unclip the fasteners, and peer inside…
|Gian: Wow! Niiiice…|
Ivan turns too and gapes at the bag’s contents. Inside the bag are neat little bundles of dynamite, along with loose ones jammed in.
|Ivan: Jesus fucking shit! Each and every one of them was dead set on killing us while we were asleep!!|
Even now, so many headlights’ve gathered in the street below that the reflections blend together on the window.
|Gian: Wanna send ‘em flying with these?|
|Ivan: Stupid. Sure, if you wanna blow yourself up with ‘em.|
You are quite right. I nod, but take the bag anyways. There…
The sound of gun butts or whatever violently whacking away at the closed door echoes through the door. I also hear angry voices screaming in English. Ivan and I look at each other.
|Gian: The GD guy’s ‘ve come up. Shall we ready the tea?|
|Ivan: Nah, let’s go with something flashier. …Gimme one of those. And also, a smoke.|
Ivan takes a stick of dynamite from me… He pulls the fuse wrapped around the body loose and checks the string.
I light the cigarette…
|Gian: Here ya go.|
I hand the stick to him. He takes it and, with a smirk, takes a deep drag before tying the dynamite fuse into a knot.
At the same time, a furious banging starts up at the door. The screams’ve gotten louder, and they’ve gotten more brutal, too.
Hitman 3: Fuckers! They got Nick and Ricardo…!!
The sound of angry voices echoes from beyond the barricade. Ivan sets something down beside me and says,
|Ivan: We’re going. This way!|
|Gian: Yeah! …Oh, ooh… Wow, shit, that’s some scary shit.|
The thing Ivan’d left behind … is the dynamite with the knotted fuse, with the lit cigarette put in a strange – no, in the absolutely perfect position – in the middle of the knot.
|Gian: …Jeezus, don’t you know some practical stuff.|
|Ivan: I told you! Don’t look so surprised when you say that!|
Ivan covers the time-delay dynamite with some loose sheets before we quickly scamper over to the open hole in the wall.
|Ivan: Jump over to the other side!|
Like he says, Ivan jumps over into the darkness. I peer after him and see…
…Ivan landing in the darkness. …My eyes finally adjust. Ivan’d jumped and landed onto the emergency fire escape of the next building over.
I shoulder the shotgun and bag I’d picked up. Behind me…
…I hear the booming of door-breaking banging continuing on even now.
We scurry down the rust-covered escape stairs and head towards the ground. Two people’s worth of crud flies up with each step. There’s not even a yard of distance between the two buildings.
|Gian: Shit, just how many of ‘em are there?!|
Even without poking my head out over the street, I can tell from the headlights — and from their combined engine rumblings, too – that there’s several cars crammed into the street below…
|Gian: Oh yeah, that dynamite. Won’t that blow up everyone else in the building, too?|
|Ivan: Yeah, but there’s no one but me and my men living here. Otherwise it wouldn’t be a real hideout…|
Then … a notably stronger beam of light passes over the street taken up by the shadow of the Mercedes sitting where we’d left it.
|Gian: …Looks like the head honcho’s here.|
The previous chapter is mildly NSFW!