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“Right now, I’m tempted to have him make both ofyoudisappear and do this on my own.”
“Except direct murder for hire isn’t really the Misfits style,” Blu informs as we wedge the pieces in our ears. “They’re more chivalrous than that.”
“Stop watchin’ Bridgerton with your girlfriend.”
“Stop listening to Green Day with yours.”
Reynolds delivers unexpected pats to our shoulders. “You both live very sad lives.”
“Says the boy who cried herpes,” I jab in tandem with opening my door.
“The drip!” He bites back. “It was the drip!”
“Notthatmuch better,” Blu chuckles and follows my exit.
We each make our way around to the rear where we put on our vests, load them up with the appropriate gear, and test out the new coms. Once our watches are set and synced, we spread out to conquer our assigned terrain. Traveling straight downward in order to follow the river line is the easiest part. Even if I hadn’t trained in rough regions, the later part of my adolescence featured a lot of time hunting with my dad sans Kolby who wanted to spend all his time in the rink.
Jogging along the path near the water is where things get a little slipperier.
Literally.
The damp ground isn’t the greatest for footing even in the appropriate boots and doing my best to avoid an easy trackable trail merely adds to the speed complications.
By the time I manage to arrive at the location I need to be, I’m twenty seconds behind and struggling to determine where I can shave off that time in order to not blow the op.
Because Ican’tlet Guggenheim destroy those drives or servers.
And I damn sure can’t let Arley become a widow before she’s even been fucking married.
Peering around the tree closest to the escape hatch gives me a fairly direct line of sight to my obstacle that is already making a deadly mistake by not paying attention to his surroundings.
Talk about a great opportunity to get back that time.
High pitched moaning sounds pour from his phone providing me with the perfect cover for a covert attack. Three quick steps over and I’m swinging one arm around his throat. Locking my forearm under his Adam’s apple. Wedging the muzzle against his side and unloading two rounds into his liver. His frame instantly becomes limp allowing me to strip him of his weapon and easily slip him into the small waterfall to drown while bleeding out versus wasting ammo or risking additional shots being heard.
Opening the door hidden amongst what appears to be a collection of trees occurs just as the porn watcher’s replacement is exiting. Instantly, I grab the sides of his head and forcefully yank him downward at the same time I send my knee upward. The first crack I hear is his nose breaking. The next four are optical bones. The remainder of the rattles are from his jaw and teeth shattering. Blood splashes onto the surrounding foliage as he’s flipped around onto his back and kicked into the water but the red splatters on my shoes easily wash away when I stomp on his chest forcing him to gasp underwater, an act that will assist in him meeting the same watery fate that the other member of his team did.
With two bodies down, I lower my stance and cautiously check the corner before proceeding further inside the dimly lit space. Speed is equally as important as stealth, and the silence of my coms signals that everything is going smoothly.
Smoother than anticipated for sure.
Or at least it is until I come around the first bend in the tunnel at the same time the assigned guard does. Unfortunately, he manages to get a couple shots off but throwing my back to be flush with the wall prevents them from hitting me. No longer able to execute the noiseless approach I had planned – actually to be more honest hadhoped for– I fire my Glock 19 three times center mass, dropping him exactly where he stands. Knowing the next guard isn’t far ahead, I quickly push forward, weapon raised and ready to go again.
My arrival at the next hallway has me planting two bullets in the back of the unsuspecting security member’s head, yet his replacement that I didn’t see due to the angle, is given a viable chance to fire forcing me to retreat around the corner I just cleared. His rifle going off alerts the next guard along the route to the situation – along with him yelling out – and the two begin spraying rapid fire in tandem.
“Uh…Wahl?” Reynolds’s voice appears in my ear. “We’ve got…movement.”
“Heavy movement,” Blu echoes in tandem with me sliding myself down to the ground to avoid their streams. “Thermal imagining indicates one of Guggenheim’s in house members is headed towards him.”
“I can take that shot,” Reynolds nervously informs, “but the second that round goes through the house they’re gonnadefinitelyknow something is up.”
The fact I’m running point on the op is why he hasn’t done it yet.
You have to wait for your team leader to make those kinds of calls.
And considering the abundant amount of gunfire I’m currently experiencing, there’s no reason to believe thatnotpulling the trigger is gonna buy us anymore time.
If they didn’t know we were here before, they fucking know it now.
