A shadowy figure is in deep thought as the convoy of security vehicles travels at full speed despite the snowy weather. The only sound is the wiper’s scraping against the windows every few seconds, any other person would have been irritated by the sound, but not him. He found solace in the constant ticking of the heartbeat like sound. A subtle reminder that every living being possessed such a blatant weakness.
A vibration inside his coat pocket awakens him from his musings. Italian leather gloved hands reach elegantly into the coat pocket to retrieve the electronic device. Upon sliding his finger over the device, a familiar voice of Vincent comes through and asks, “Sir, we are at the location as instructed. What are your commands?”
“Ceterum autem censeo Carthaginem esse delendam,” the shadowy man said, “Like the roman emperors of old, destroy Carthage and consider it done. Salting the Earth, that nothing more may nevermore grow.”
“Understood, sir. Your orders shall be executed,” Vincent gravely replied.
The shadowy figure terminates the call and returns the electronic device to its place. The driver of the vehicle says, “Sir, do you wish to take the interstate or proceed to the ready flight.”
“Thank you for the update, Murphy. Please head to the ready airstrip,” the shadowy figure replied.
“My pleasure, sir,” the driver replied without glancing back. The convoy speeds up as they drive down the streets without being stopped, rapidly approaching their destination. A soft smile can be seen on the shadowy figures face as he imagines the look of shock and despair that will shortly come to pass. Leaning in his seat, he imagines that face twisting with despair. Yes, that would be an appropriate retribution. A faint smile appears on his face, chilling enough to leave a grown man quaking in their pants. A devil’s smile if one had to be exact.
*
The very air is ripped apart by explosions and the sound of rapid gunfire. A rugged figure returns fire, shouting over the loud sounds, John says, “Giselle, we need to go!” A loud grunt is heard from the figure next to John collapsing back onto the floor in a pool of blood dead.
A gorgeous woman fires at the assailant not even pausing to glance at their dead comrade, while her sleek black leather suit tightens in all the right places with every move. “No, we have to get to, Sarah,” Giselle yelled back.
“She’s already gone, Giselle. They bombarded HQ first, I overheard, their desperate calls, before the first bomb blast on our end. The agency is being systematically destroyed, Giselle. If we are going to survive and avenge our comrades, we have to leave right now!” John persuasively roared.
Giselle stubbornly barks back, “Fine, then I’ll do this without you.” Without waiting for a reply, Giselle darts out from her hiding spot and runs down the hallway at full speed in a rain fire.
“Aw, Hell! You have got to be kidding me right now!” John hisses through clenched teeth as he instinctively returns fire ensuring enough of a proper cover for Giselle to clear the hallway.
The firing ceases for a moment as Giselle yells, “I’ll cover you hurry up! John curses under his breath as runs down the hallway as an explosion rips the hallway behind him. Scrambling to stay on his feet as the hall slides underneath, John dives forward as the floor disintegrates underneath. John begins to fall down when an unexpected firm hand reaches out and catches his. “I gotcha,” Giselle said through gritted teeth as she gripped onto the wall with one hand and pulled John up with all her strength.
A grin of relief appears on John’s face as he pulls himself forward until his feet can touch the ground. Leaping forward, John releases his grip and lands a bit past Giselle. Giselle grins and says, “Geez, you’re heavy. Lay off the steak for once.”
John’s rugged face contorts into a smirk. “Meat is what makes a man,” John proudly declared. Giselle chokes as John seriously changes the subject, “Alright, so leapfrog style?”
“Yes, that would be best given the situation,” Giselle seriously replied.
“I’ll go first,” John murmured before darting around the corner and firing, before taking cover. Giselle runs after him as John covers her as she takes cover. The scene repeats itself until they reach the end of the hallway and shoot their attackers. The attackers gurgle to their deaths as the duo systematically destroys their enemies.
The air rings with distant gunfire and explosions as the body shakes from another detonation. “Are they trying to bring the god damn building down onto themselves as well? Crazy bastards,” John grumbled as he reaches down to remove a semi-automatic from their attacker’s dead grasp. John takes one for himself and tosses another to Giselle. Giselle begins to move forward as John curiously pauses to grab a small pouch off one of the attackers, before rushing after Giselle.
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Clouds of smoke fill the air the closer they near the office area of the agency. Parts of the building was on fire, but the fire had yet to spread to all of the areas. Heat scorches their skin as they hold in their coughs with eye-watering down their snoot covered faces. Unable to breathe, John rips off his sleeves and ties one around his face and hands the other over to Giselle. Giselle takes the offered rag and ties it around her face to breathe.
Their footsteps sound loud in their ears as they step over fallen glass and items. The cubicles are streaked with the bodies of the agency bureaucracy. John becomes still at spotting a familiar corpse on the floor, his agency handler, Terry. Terry was married and had three kids. There were defensive wounds on his arms as he tried to protect himself to no avail. He had been stabbed three times cleanly through the guts. He would have led out in a matter of minutes or died from his internal organ injuries just as quickly.
Giselle had gone ahead a few meters away, she softly cries out, “Sarah? Can you hear me?” There is no response other than the soft crackling sound of fire.
“I told you, they are already gone. We have to leave Giselle, this has all the looks of an eradication order for the agency. C’mon now,” John grunted as he moved towards her to drag her way if necessary for her own good.
A faint cry can suddenly be heard, choking and coughing, “Help! Someone please, I’m trapped!”
Giselle's eyes widen with relief at recognizing the voice of Sarah. Giselle rushes forward as John hisses, “Wait, it could be a trap?!” Too late Giselle vanishes into the fog of smoke as John rushes forward. Before he can reach her, a figure emerges behind John and cleanly shots John through the chest. John falls to the ground as the figure steps over him and goes after Giselle.
John tastes blood in his mouth as he rolls himself to his side and rips off most of his shirt. Grunting in pain, John grabs a bobblehead off the floor and sticks into his mouth as he rolls his ripped shirt into a wad. Taking a deep breath, John stuffs the wad of clothing into the bleeding, gaping hole in his chest. John's teeth bite down hard enough to crack the bobble head. Spitting the boggle head pieces out of his mouth, John hobbles to his feet in pain as he tries to breathe via his improvised shirt sleeve bandana.
John coughs up a wad of blood and spits it roughly out. Wiping the blood from his mouth, John moves stealthy forward searching for voices or sounds. Voices can be heard further down the hallway as John sneaks forward to listen in and all the while trying to keep an eye out for the gunmen in the area with them.
John hears the happy voice of Giselle say, “Thank god, you’re alright Sarah. I’m almost down moving the cabinet, you’ll be out of the closet shortly.”
“Thank you,” the sweet voice of Sarah said.
John narrows his eyes in thought. Just how did Sarah know they were on the floor? They hadn’t made any loud noises nor their voices were loud enough to be heard all the way through a closet door. Before he can continue that train of thought, the hair on John’s neck pricks up as he dives for cover under a desk. Holding his breath, he waits as movement and the faintest of footsteps move near him. John’s heart pounds as a loud crash from the room causes him to almost flinch.
The sound of the crash was the cabinet being removed from the doorway. The door screeches open as loud female coughs can be heard from within. Giselle worriedly reaches down to help her curly chestnut-haired friend to her feet. “It’s okay now, Sarah, I have you,” Giselle caringly said.
John opens his mouth to shout a warning as he sees the gunman approach the doorway entrance. Before John can utter a warning, the gunman in a stark, cold voice says, “It’s been a while, Giselle.”
Giselle’s eyes widen in shock as she hisses in recognition of the voice of the man standing in the doorway, “Vincent.”
The young man with one indigo and one black eye smiles behind his smoke mask. “You know far too much for your own good, Giselle,” Vincent calmly stated.
Giselle protectively stands before the frightened figure of her friend, Sarah. “Stay behind me,” Giselle mutters under breath, before coldly saying, “Of course, you’re always the one sent in to do his dirty work.”
“What can I say, the devil makes work for idle hands and I like to keep busy,” Vincente drily replied. “Besides I won’t be the one shooting you.”
Giselle frowns in confusion as a loud shot is heard from behind. In disbelief, Giselle feels a burning sensation in her back and through her front chest. With confusion, Giselle touches her hand to her chest to see a dark wetness on her outstretched palm. Turning around Giselle sees the cold face of Sarah say, “Sorry, love, you were a good friend, but orders are order’s.” Sarah pulls the trigger twice in rapid succession as Giselle falls to the floor dead with an expression of disbelief and utter betrayal on her face.
“There’s should still one more left on the floor.” Vincent said, “He’s wounded, find him and eliminate him.”
“Yes, sir,” Sarah replied as she pulled a smoke mask onto her face and darted out the door. The man known as Vincent purposefully leaves the area as Sarah carefully sweeps the office area one last time.
John’s heart pounds as he bites his tongue in fury hard. Holding in the urge to cough and burning eyes, John carefully crawls out from under the desk and makes his way to the office that had just been vacated. John stiffens at the sight of Giselle’s cooling body on the floor. John slowly crawls forward and gently leans down to close her shocked eyes.
John is silent for a moment in silence, before carefully reaching for the chain that always hung around Giselle’s neck and firmly pulls. A moment later, from between her breasts, a small burner phone is pulled out from under her leather suit.
John limps over to the cabinet and holes himself up in the office closet. The door creaks as it closes shut as the intensity of the heat scorches his very skin, but John dials the only number on the phone registered as 143. (Despite all communication signals having been shut down, this was a special one of a kind encrypted phone. The phone was only for emergencies as it only had a single use.) John tries to breathe as he impatiently waits for the other end to answer.