The unreliable bed

 He assembled his bed in the loft of the hotel.
Under the thin layer of flooring, beneath the bed, was a two storey drop. The flimsy plastic poles didn't seem to be enough to support his mattress, let alone body weight.
But it was a cheap stay at the Old Horse hotel. He had just enough money to make it to the conference.
Same big eyes he had as a child. Both for curiosity and envy, dual purpose.
None of his dozen friends were there, they'd all continued up the ladder of life.
Why we was he even here?
The conference was about archaelogy and war.
There were no freebees, not even cookies.
But he assembled his bed, put his mattress on and shouted at he cleaner until she left.
The administrator Billop frildons arrived with outstanding pomp. It was a mercedez limo with two guys on motorcyles as if he were a president or something.
Matt finished covering his bed, crawled over to his rucksack and pulled out a 38.
He looked down from the huge window as the Billop entered with the two men who were slowly taking off their helmets the way actors do on advertising.
Instead of carefully crawling around his bed to get the door and follow it down, he jumped on it to get to the door.
Yes you guessed it. The bed broke through the plastic poles and the thin slats holding it, it fell directly down into the space between the entrance and the lobby where Billop was.
Matt heard the crash, he had been in the job for about 20 years, but he'd never completed a kill by accident. Matt looked through the hole in his floor but it was impossible to see anyone, though he had heard gasps. So he opened his door and sped down the stairs, he came out into the lobby, not as the professional killer he had become, but more like the curious child he once once.
The bed not only missed his mark, Billop but it hadn't hit either of the poser motorcyclists.
"Damn" he said under his breath, pulled his .38 aimed and fired.

It was going to go through the Billop's windpipe causing just enough drama to allow him to get out clean. But the gun jammed. The motorcycle boys were on him in a split second, he punched one, but took several punches and kicks from the other, then in a headlock he fell unconscious.
Matt woke up as an officer escorted him into the back of a paddy wagon taking him to the local sheriff's office.
As the car reverberated and shook along the long dirt road Matt noticed a small door hinge screw had come slightly loose and was rattling. He shifted over and started unscrewing it.
In a few moments he had freed himself of the cuffs.
He kicked the wall between the prisoner's space and the driver's compartment, at the same moment the vehicle slowed, to make the officer driving think that he had perhaps hurt himself.

It worked in seconds the officer had stopped the vehicle and opened the back of the paddy wagon. Where Matt pretended to be injured. Almost obvious isn't it?
As the officer jumped in Matt kicked out with his legs and the officer was sent flying back out of the paddywagon landing on his side and getting winded in the process. Matt jumped out and the officer reciprocated kicking Matt in the groin.
Matt held himself and let out a shriek. The policeman began to rise, Matt pushed him again, he stumbled back two feet than tripped into a road side swale.
It finished the job, the officer was dazed. Matt took his Glock, keys and handcuffed the man to a tree out of sight of the road.

He got into the paddy wagon and started driving wearing the cop's jacket and hat, the road was too narrow to turn around. The job needed to be done and nothing would stop Matt from his target, afterall he was a damn veteran noone could stop him he was a killer.
An oncoming truck with a wide tray on the back came hurtling toward him. He veered and almost jamming his wheels in the swale ditch to avoid it. The man in the oncoming truck looked decidedly Happy with himself. The young man had flipped the bird at just the last moment.
How was that even possible, it didn't occur to Matt that it was something law enforcement would tolerate, especially not rural. "The balls on this one" He murmured.
He chuckled and continued on, keeping his eyes peeled for any wide area or driveway he could turn the vehicle around in.
Up ahead he saw it, a letter box and with it a driveway up to some other property.
He maneuvered the paddy wagon several times. Looking at the distant house on the hill, imagining someone using binoculars observing his pathetic attempts to turn the wagon around. After ten back and forths he managed to turn around and head in the direction he had come from.

He accelerated as much as he could. taking the curves on easily, impressed at the way the police paddywagon handled. The bumps and curves excited him. 
Suddenly an oncoming vehicle appeared on the narrow curve he was on, It was the same truck with the wide tray, and the bed from his room at the hotel was on it, it was tied but the ropes seemed loose.
Matt put on the brakes as did the oncoming truck, but the bed swung out of the tray and crashed through the front windscreen of the paddy wagon.