Into the Apartment He Goes

Agent Cartwright’s apartment complex consisted of a series of buildings spaced in an ordered manner. Each building had four separate apartments, spread between the two floors. Nick had an upper-apartment. Taylor silently crept up the stairwell, watching for any would-be-enemies. He paused before X’s apartment door and slowly turned the knob. It was locked. Taylor knelt down and picked the lock. He held his breath as he coaxed the door open and slipped into the room. The silence was eerie as he took in his surroundings. The dining room was to his left, with the kitchen connected to its far end. To the right stood the living room, with a hallway leading to the only bedroom and bathroom. It was dark; but Taylor didn’t dare to use any form of light, depending on his eyes to adjust to the darkness. From his crouched position, Taylor could not make out any living beings in the dining room, kitchen, or living room. However, he heard a slight murmuring coming from the single hallway. Taylor advanced to the noise, trying to discern the origin of it. As he got closer, he could hear two voices coming from behind the bedroom’s half-closed door.
“Mayhem and his games, I feel bad for this guy. Mayhem can’t just take what he needs, but he has to give this guy a personal hell,” said someone with a deep voice.
“Just be glad it isn’t you. Besides, that Cartwright fellow might never find out what happened. Think about it. He’s unconscious in an alley, covered with injuries, on a cold November night. He has a better chance of bleeding or freezing to death than getting up,” said someone with a Jersey accent.
Bleeding? They must have not seen him heal. Which means, he didn’t heal. Which means he’s in trouble.
“If I were him, I’d choose the first choice. I hope that guy at least looses a finger to frostbite though. My jaw still hurts from where he punched me.”
“Yeah, and my stomach isn’t doing so well; but, it’s nowhere near as bad as what Jackson got. He’s waddling like a penguin.”
Good for you, Nick.
“Poor guy will never be able to have kids now.”
“We better get going. Koven is probably getting impatient waiting outside for us.”
Koven?

CLICK

“Hey guys,” someone Taylor assumed was Koven said as he pressed the barrel of his gun against Will’s neck, “look who I found.”
The two men came out of the bedroom and looked first at Taylor and then Koven.
Koven continued, “Nixon is going to be ticked off when he finds out we did his job for him.” Koven let out an amused chuckle. “I can’t wait to tell him,” he said as he took out his cell phone.
“Wait,” the guy with the Jersey accent said, “how about we don’t tell him we have Taylor and let him stakeout the apartment until he finds out?”
“Even better,” Deep Voice said; and they laughed at the idea.
Koven relieved Taylor of his gun and pushed him down the hallway. Taylor knew that he had the best chance of overtaking his captors in the narrow hallway. Its size restricted movements, preventing the men from surrounding him; but once he made it to the living room, his chances of success greatly dwindled. Knowing this, Taylor turned on Koven and kneed him in the groin. He followed up by snapping his trigger finger, taking his gun, and knocking him out with a blow to the head. All this occurred in four seconds. By then, the two other men had drawn their guns; but neither of them shot.
“I don’t have any tranqs,” Deep Voice said.
“Of course not, Koven had them all.” Realizing his mistake, Jersey gave a sheepish grin to his partner.
Taylor smiled as he shot the two men. Then he tranquilized Koven for good measure. He pulled out his cell phone and quickly dialed the number he wanted.
“This is Agent William Taylor. We have a missing agent, Agent Herbert Cartwright. I’m not sure of his exact location, but I know he’s in an alley in critical condition. I would search around West Schubert Avenue and the surrounding areas. Also check all the local hospitals. I also need a cleanup team on 738 West Schubert Avenue. On the top floor, apartment to the right, there are three people who need to be taken into custody.” He waited as the other person replied and continued, “Yeah, I have them tranquilized. It was done quietly, so the neighbors are probably unaware. They are Mayhem’s men, part of Bayer’s division. Make sure they’re put in the custody of John Astor. Ok, thanks. Bye.” Taylor entered the bedroom and found Nick’s keys, wallet, and cell phone lying neatly on his bed. Other than that, the room was in order. Taylor picked up the things and left the building.