10

Ivan!" Altoz shouted. "Stop! Don't leave!"

For a moment Ivan remained silent. Instead of stopping, he simply kept walking through the opened doorway. When he got close to the source of the noise, a pair of red eyes flashed at the corner of Altoz's vision and immediately afterwards he heard several voices shout at the same time.

"Freeze! Drop your gun!"

Two guns appeared out of thin air and aimed directly at Ivan's chest. He did not move nor did he give any indication that he understood what they were trying to say to him. After a moment he turned to look in their direction and, seeing the weapons pointed right at him, calmly raised both of his hands above his head. As he did so he took a step backwards.

"Drop your weapon." Someone ordered from somewhere ahead of him.

Ivan lowered his arms and put them once again on his sides as he faced the newcomers again.

"Who are you?" He demanded, his voice calm and composed.

Another voice responded: "We're the police."

As if in response, a shot rang out. The bullet hit the floor just inside Ivan's feet and a bright flash of white filled the doorway. A moment later there was another gunshot, this one causing a deep cut to appear in Ivan's arm as the force of the impact pushed his upper body forward. He dropped to the ground without taking notice of his wound or the fact that two of the strangers standing outside the door were now lying motionless. There was a moment of stunned silence among everyone in the room and then several sets of footsteps came thundering back towards him. A few seconds later the sound of someone kicking the door into the wall echoed across the room. Two figures burst through the doorway, one wielding an assault rifle and the other clutching a pistol tightly, only to come to a sudden halt. They both stared at each other before turning their gazes to their leader.

"What happened?!" the man holding the gun questioned worriedly. "Where'd he go?"

The man in charge ignored his subordinate's question and continued staring blankly at Ivan laying sprawled out on the ground. Slowly, a smirk formed on his lips as he took careful steps forwards towards his victim. The man who was injured stepped closer towards Ivan and examined his wounds. He was surprised to see blood seeping out of them from where the bullets had pierced the flesh.

"How the fuck is he still alive?! This guy's lucky that they didn't kill him right then and there!" the man who had brought the gun shouted angrily.

"He's lucky that he wasn't wounded too much." the one holding the pistol said.

They had reached the middle of the room where Ivan lay.