That wide, unpretty, and hazardous smile came back.
—You are at the end of your wits, Boss... There is no one coming here. I wanted to deal you both myself! Wouldn’t that make for a great achievement? “The Great M deals with the band’s most notorious enemies... After two years of fake friendship.”
—Ah...
—Hehe, are you desperate yet?
—Thank God you are so f*cking dumb...
—Wha-?
One single piercing bullet was enough. Not from K, not from L. It came from behind. The objective was that red barrel.
—Red means its got fuel in it, idiot.
The explosion, not big enough to cover more than a few meters, was enough to make the traitor’s body fly, and finally hit the ground. Contorted, distorted. Multiple 3rd grade burns, and various broken bones.
—I know you can’t speak, and you will die in a minute or so, for which I’ll be nice and quick. You were acting weird from the days before we got in here, so I took some notes. Got some PIs to look into your past, and there wasn’t a lot, except from the fact that everything minimally related to you was dead. Then, when this mission started, I instructed M to fake some injuries if you made any moves outside of the plan. Of course, I was not expecting you to be able to aim with both arms, not that you wouldn’t bring anyone else... But when you decided on those things, you signed a dead sentence.
Stolen story; please report.
L revealed a Desert Eagle, coming from inside her jacket, which made K’s eyes, or what was left of one, leave an insightful reaction.
—I also have a gun. Never told you because there was no need, but I prepared myself to use it in the moment you turned the back to me to go find M. So confident in your own victory you were, that you were going to leave me alive, since I couldn’t do anything to stop you anyway, right?
L took what little hair K still had on her, and buried that burned face into the ground, one last time.
Goodnight, Kiara.