A New Millennium

Bonnie unlocked door 505, strode in, shut it behind her and made a beeline for the curtains. She drew them closed, then finally breathed out and relaxed her stiff posture as she removed her coat.

A pre-arranged cassette player sat neatly on the bed. Bonnie unclipped her briefcase, took out the tape placed next to her gun and slotted it onto the player. She sat next to it then pressed play.

A long sigh preceded any words. “I’m...” Another sigh. Bonnie felt uneasy, these weren’t how briefs usually started.

A familiar gravelly voice nonchalantly said, “Bonnie, baby. I’m sorry.” She stood up. Names were never part of the protocol. She picked up her gun, but it felt different. 

“It’s time to ring in a new year, a new millennium, and a new set of field operatives.”

She checked the chamber; clean. She checked the magazine; no ammo.

“You were the first generation, but you won’t be the last. You’re still good at what you do but you’re aging out, love. I’m sorry, but this is it. Adios Bonnie…”

The tape clicked then music began to play, “Turn around. Every now and then I get a little bit lonely and you’re never coming ‘round…”

Bonnie angrily whispered, “Total Eclipse? Fucking prick.” As the music played, she paced up and down the small room assessing her situation. Her mind frantically bounced between thoughts as it often did.

‘Three exits on the ground floor... Two parents in the lobby, were they a cover…? How many people will they send after me...? Two staircases at either side... Why burn me now…? Receptionist mentioned Y2K bug, was that a code…? The carpets on the fifth floor didn’t match the ground floor...’

“Turn around. Every now and then I get a little bit nervous that the best of all years have gone by…”

Her mind kept racing as she opened the locked compartment to her briefcase.

‘They have my check-in time, they know my routine... the briefcase is empty, no gadgets... why now, why New Year’s Eve…? Who made the call…? I haven’t got a balcony this time... Why give me a warning?’

Bonnie froze, then all her thoughts suddenly coalesced into a plan.

She grabbed the empty gun from her briefcase and tucked it into the back of her trousers. She grabbed two complementary hotel pens from the bedside table, stuffed them into her pocket, then headed to the window. She opened it as far as it would go, then applied pressure to the safety lock and popped it out of place which opened the window fully. For once, she was glad they put her in a low-star, rickety hotel. A brisk breeze rolled into the hotel room, carrying rain with it.

Bonnie leaned out and saw a balcony two-floors below. She sized up the six-meter fall for a moment, then climbed out onto the rain-slicked surface of the building. She held onto the ledge of the window then span and hopped outside, still holding onto the ledge from outside the building. She dropped downwards and splashed onto the balcony below.

Bonnie tried to temper her fall with a roll but the direct descent ended up rolling her ankle instead. She squatted and quickly looked up. Bonnie noted that the lights were off but the room was occupied nonetheless; a couple watching TV in the dark. She hopped to the adjacent balcony; the lights were off but a couple lay sleeping, then she jumped to the next one; empty. Bonnie kicked the flimsy balcony door open and stepped inside.

She stretched her ankle, composed herself, then opened the door and checked the third-floor corridor. A small girl in pig-tails was walking alone, away from Bonnie. She took the opportunity to quickly dart across the corridor and into the stairwell. The little girl heard the door click closed and turned around, then walked towards the noise to investigate.

Bonnie swiftly descended the stairs but caught a glimpse of a couple heading downwards from the second-floor door. She entered that door and was immediately face-to-face with a woman who tightened her fists. They both knew.

Bonnie struck first and kicked the woman in the chest, propelling her backward. Then Bonnie advanced and swung at her head. The woman blocked the hit and retaliated with a punch to the abdomen. Bonnie was winded and the woman struck again, then drew a knife from her belt buckle. She slashed at Bonnie who narrowly avoided the attack, then a second strike hit Bonnie in her left forearm. Bonnie violently kicked the woman in the chest again, withdrew her gun, then threw it at her head. The woman held up an arm to successfully block the heavy blunt instrument. She drew her arm down just-in-time to see Bonnie tackle her to the ground. Bonnie held her knife-arm with one hand and punched the woman in the throat with the other. The woman coughed and gasped for breath as Bonnie twisted her wrist to release the knife. Bonnie grabbed it and plunged the knife into the woman’s heart, then callously took it out. 

Bonnie frantically searched the woman; no gun. She then knew it was a silent mission; not everyone in the hotel was part of the operation, but she didn’t have time to hide the body. She placed the knife in her pocket and fled.

She ran to the secondary staircase opposite her entrance and carefully pushed the door open. A man and woman were halfway up from the first floor and sprinted after Bonnie when they saw her. She threw the knife at the man, which caught him in the arm, then she dashed up the stairs to the third-floor door. She pushed it open to find two more pursuers, then slammed it shut and raced up as the number of pursuers increased. She didn’t stop at the fourth floor, she kept going up. She shoulder-barged the fifth-floor door and kicked it closed with her heel as she sprinted for her room.

She softly pushed her door open, slammed it shut, then applied all three locks. But Bonnie wasn’t alone. 

A man withdrew his head from the window and cocked his fists as he turned to face Bonnie, who tried to catch her breath. The thuds of chasers kicking at the door eclipsed the tape in Bonnie’s room which continued to play.

“And we'll only be making it right. 'Cause we'll never be wrong…”

The man swung at Bonnie but she dipped backwards to avoid it and kicked at his crotch. He caught her foot and twisted her already inflammed ankle. She winced then jumped and span to kick him in the face with her other foot. He let go and Bonnie hit the ground as the thuds at the door seemed to get louder. She did a kick-up to get back on her feet, winced again at the pressure she put on her ankle, then quickly withdrew a pen from her pocket and stabbed at the man’s neck. He raised his hand and the pen punctured his palm. Bonnie jabbed the pen with her other arm and it pierced through his hand. She reached into her other pocket, took out another pen and stabbed at the other side of his neck. He couldn’t block it that time. She perforated his carotid artery, then stabbed at it again, and again, and again. Blood pulsed out as the thuds on the door and music both seemed to crescendo.

“I don't know what to do. I'm always in the dark. Living in a powder keg and give off sparks…”

Bonnie had no time to search. She grabbed the bloody pens and ran straight for the broken window to swiftly make her exit. As she made the two-floor jump for a second time, she fully twisted her ankle and collapsed onto the balcony. Bonnie quickly took note of her surroundings and made a choice. She held the edge of the bannister and swung her body over it as she kept hold. She looked up and saw several pursuers looking down at her from her room window. Bonnie shuffled downwards and let go. She heard a ‘pop’ in her left shoulder as she grabbed hold of the second-floor balcony bannister.

Fireworks set off. She heard the cheers of people in the surrounding rooms and on the street. A new millennium had begun.

She grunted in pain and struggled to hoist herself onto the balcony, and met eyes with a mother who held her two children behind her in panic. Bonnie kicked the balcony door open and limped towards the front door. She was wet, covered in spurts of blood, and clutching her left arm.

She opened the door and anticipated what might be on the other side, but the corridor was empty. She headed for the stairs then stopped to think for the first time in a few minutes. She always took the stairs, and they knew that. She called for a lift instead, and caught her breath in the longest 20-second wait of her life as the adrenaline wore off. She got in and pressed for the ground floor.

Bonnie held a bloody pen in her right hand, still reeling from the pain of her wound and dislocated shoulder. She flattened her body against the side of the lift and peaked out; nobody. Just the reception desk to the left and an empty lobby.

Bonnie sprinted towards the exit of the building then felt a shooting pain surge up her spine as her legs became numb and she collapsed to the floor. The fall knocked the air out of her lungs, and she desperately gasped to refill them. She raised her undamaged arm which still had a pen in it. She was going to take out whoever put her down. She primed her arm ready to lash out, then she felt a light pressure on her back and a leg walk by. Bonnie didn’t attack, she only exhaled sharply and said, “No.”

A little girl in pig-tails stood on her hand and forced the pen out of it. Then she drew the switchblade from Bonnie’s spine and knelt down.

Bonnie said, “You’re too young.” The little girl plunged the knife into Bonnie’s neck, spilling thick pulses of deep red blood onto the carpet. The girl vacantly stared into Bonnie’s eyes as the life drained from her.