John Wick - Chapter 102: The First Assassination Attempt (Patreon)

The sounds of a struggle, mixed with a man’s muffled grunts, came through the door.

John was fast. He reached Gianna’s room first, kicked the door open, and rushed inside.

Nate followed right behind him. One glance into the room showed two grown men already wrestling on the floor.

Elena hurriedly opened her door as well, leaning on her cane.

“What’s going on?”

“We don’t need you here. Go back inside,” Nate said.

Elena didn’t argue. She nodded and closed the door again.

Broken porcelain littered the floor of Gianna’s room. Nate also spotted a gun lying nearby, only a short distance from the two men grappling on the ground.

A waiter dressed in a hotel uniform kept trying to reach for it, but Cassian stopped him every time. Eventually, the waiter found an opening, climbed on top of Cassian, and wrapped both hands around his throat.

Cassian wasn’t about to let him have his way. Blood ran down his cheek as he retaliated, grabbing the waiter by the throat in return.

Gianna stood in the corner with a silver tray in her hands, looking ready to rush in and help, but John raised a hand to stop her.

John took two quick steps forward and drove a vicious soccer kick into the back of the waiter’s head.

The blow knocked him clean off Cassian. He staggered two steps before slamming headfirst into the wall with a loud thud, then went still with his rear sticking awkwardly into the air.

Nate raised his gun and slowly approached to check on him.

John picked up the pistol from the floor, pulled Cassian to his feet, and asked, “Assassin? Hotel staff?”

“Not sure. He came in to deliver food, but I noticed something was wrong. He had a pistol hidden under the tray. Good thing I was on guard, or this could’ve ended badly.”

“Gentlemen, thanks to you, I’m still alive.”

Still shaken, Gianna set down the silver tray. She picked up a handkerchief and was about to come over when John stopped her.

She tossed it to Cassian instead.

“How are you?”

Cassian caught it and wiped the blood from his face in one motion.

“Just a minor cut. I scraped myself on some broken porcelain while we were on the floor.”

Ring, ring, ring.

The old-fashioned telephone on the coffee table began ringing.

John walked over, picked it up, and put it on speaker.

It was the Black woman from the front desk.

“Sorry to disturb you, sir, but we’ve received several complaints from other guests regarding the noise coming from your room, so...”

“We were just attacked,” John interrupted. “The assassin was wearing a hotel uniform.”

“What? How could...”

“The attacker has been subdued. I need to speak to your hotel manager.”

There was a brief silence on the other end.

“Of course, sir. I’ll notify the manager immediately. I’m sorry...”

John didn’t bother listening any further. He hung up.

“Nate, what do you think?” John asked.

Nate was still going through the waiter’s pockets.

“Probably not hotel staff.”

As he spoke, Nate grabbed the man’s face and tore away a disguise.

“The craftsmanship isn’t quite as good as Henry’s.”

He had spent enough time disguising himself lately to know the difference.

“He’s a suicide operative trained by a High Table candidate,” Gianna said with a sigh. “Even The Continental isn’t safe anymore.”

“Miss Gianna, right now, The Continental is still the safest place for you.”

Nate remained crouched beside the unconscious man for a moment before continuing.

“But offer enough money and someone will always be stupid enough to try. Everyone needs to stay sharp over the next few days.”

He struck the unconscious man on the head once more with the butt of his gun. After making sure he was truly out cold, Nate stood.

“This room faces the street. When the hotel manager gets here, have him move you to another one.”

As Nate spoke, he shot John a look.

John understood immediately.

He had noticed it too.

Without warning, John shoved Cassian toward the corner, drew his pistol, and aimed toward the window at the same time Nate did.

Nate fired first.

John followed a fraction of a second later.

Several rapid shots cracked through the room, sending a volley of 9mm rounds toward a sniper positioned on the rooftop across the street.

Gianna had remained in the corner the entire time. The sniper had been unable to acquire her through his scope, so he never got the chance to fire.

Nate and John, however, had already spotted him thanks to [Baba Yaga].

The rounds crossed a little over a hundred meters. Plenty missed, but the two of them were firing enough shots to make up for the lack of precision.

With his enhanced vision, Nate clearly saw several rounds strike the sniper before one hit him in the head.

The man’s body slumped sideways and stopped moving.

Nate and John immediately pulled the curtains shut across the windows, blocking the view from outside.

Nate sat down on the floor and lowered his gun.

“John, if someone outside The Continental kills somebody inside it, does that count as breaking the rules?”

John gave him a faint, mocking smile.

“Does that really matter anymore?”

“Fair point.”

Rules were only there to restrain people like them.

Once someone climbed high enough, they might not have to follow those rules at all. And the High Table’s rules had plenty of loopholes for anyone determined enough to exploit them.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway.

Before the person even reached the room, a voice called from outside.

“Jonathan?”

It was Julius.

“How is everyone? Is anyone hurt?”

He hurried into the room, a thin layer of sweat visible across his forehead.

John leaned against the wall and said nothing. He simply glanced toward Gianna.

Julius gave a slight nod.

He walked over to where Gianna stood in the corner, his posture noticeably deferential.

“Miss Gianna, this was a failure on our part. You have my apologies.”

Gianna said nothing, but her displeasure was obvious.

Cassian, standing beside her, spoke instead.

“What happened has already happened. An apology means very little now. What you need to do is prove that The Continental can still guarantee our safety.”

“I’m sorry. We will. The Rome Continental will provide appropriate compensation to all of you, and we will identify whoever was responsible for this. But that will take time.”

Gianna turned to Cassian.

“When will our people arrive?”

“Fifteen minutes, ma’am,” Cassian replied.

“Fine. Once they arrive, my people will take over security for this entire floor. Is that acceptable, Mr. Manager?”

Her tone left little room for negotiation.

“Of course. May I take the assassin with me? I need to interrogate him.”

“Yes,” Gianna replied.

Several hotel staff members carried the unconscious assassin out of the room.

Julius exchanged a glance with John before stepping out as well.

“I’ll go with him. John, I’m leaving this place to you,” Nate said.

Then he left the room and caught up with Julius.

Julius walked ahead, checking his phone as he went.

Nate followed behind him and could clearly sense the anger the older man was struggling to keep under control.

Julius eventually stopped.

“Mr. Lin, I’m very sorry for the trouble this has caused you.”

Nate waved it off.

“It’s nothing. I was prepared for this before we even came here. I just didn’t expect our enemies to lose their patience this quickly.”

Then he asked, “Was that man one of your employees?”

Julius fell silent for a moment.

A trace of sadness appeared on his face.

“That face belonged to one of them. The man wearing it did not.”