Lara dived under a thin table in front of her just as a shot went off. She rolled onto her back beneath it, kicking it up and onto the person with gray suit pants standing in front of her. Another shot rang out as she crawled towards a file cabinet in front of her. Shouts commanding not to shoot bounced off the walls of the windowless room. Lara forced the file cabinet onto another man as she ran to a corner, reaching out for a mop before she was jerked back by a violent grip on her ponytail.

  She landed on her back, dull pain shooting through her shoulder blades.

  About to take a shoe to the face, she grabbed the calf of the man standing above her, pushing him back and forcing him into a stumble. Sweeping her leg in his path, he toppled down, hair a blonde blur. The gun fell beside them.

  Lara scrambled towards it as he took hold of her shirt collar, snapping her backwards. Her elbow jerked toward him, colliding with his face. Lurching forward, she grabbed the gun’s silver handle, and stood, quickly turning its barrel directly at her attacker who lay frozen on the ground.

  It was the man from the field.

  “Don’t shoot.”

  It wasn’t him who had spoken, but the other man Lara had hit with the file cabinet. She realized he had been the one calling out to stop during the altercation. In the corner of her eye, she saw a black handgun pointed at her.

  “I’ll pull it!” She shouted, breaths mounting.

  The suit smirked, blood streaming down his nose and onto the pale pink of his dress shirt, “You really think--“

  She cocked it instinctively.

  He stiffened.

  This time she made the command. “Down.”

  His counterpart thought for a few seconds until he finally kneeled, sliding the gun towards her.

  Lara maintained her aim in the blonde’s direction as she grabbed the second firearm. Standing, she aimed her left arm towards his disarmed partner.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  “Hey, woah now.” He put his hands up. “That wasn’t a part of the deal.”

  “There was no deal – you shot at me!” Lara yelled, the sweat under her arms all the more noticeable to her as it chilled against her tee.

  “I think what we should be asking is how you got in here.” The man to her left replied.

  “The door was unlocked.”

  “Impossible,” The suit spat. “That door was locked with--“

  “It wasn’t.” Lara took a step closer to his tousled body.

  There was a pause, and the room was silent when the man opposite the suit replied.

  “We’re reviewing enlistment profiles for the Special Intelligence branch of the Guard.”

  “In a broom closet.”

  “He said ‘Special Intelligence’, you imbecile. Would you prefer we hung a banner outside the door to make it more official?” The suit vilified.

  “What he means to say,” The man to her left glared admonishingly at his counterpart, “The circumstances of you not only finding your way here, at this hour, and getting past the… ‘technology’ locking that door lead us to believe--,”

  “Honestly, I wasn’t trying to find anything, I was trying to get away from whatever was going on down there in that stairwell. But then I heard… I mean I saw…” Lara considered the lunacy of her statement, but decided to finish since she was the one in possession of the weapons. “The door frame was glowing.”

  Lara felt their eyes bore into her.

  “You turned off the light when I walked in.”

  The suit finally moved, hesitating as he began to speak, “I knew you stood out to me in the field.” He stood, testing her wariness, and brushed the wrinkles from his shirt. “It seems that I – as I usually am – was correct.”

  He took a step towards her, stopping as she tightened her grip on the silver gun.

  “I mean it,” He continued, his hands raised. “And in our business, things like this are never coincidence, Miss?”

  “We didn’t catch your name,” His counterpart interjected.

  Lara willed her heart calm as it choked on adrenaline. “I do hope you realize the many things you can catch at this very moment. Bullets, for example.”

  “Yes, that’s a fair response; I know you know how precarious this situation is. Which is why – in the unusual precariousness of this all – I would like to make you an offer.”

  She raised her eyebrows, “After you willingly fired at me.”

  “You really have very little reason to trust me. And so, I shall make this even better. If you truly don’t believe the offer, feel free to shoot both me, and him.”