Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
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 had hoped 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 gonna definitely know 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 that not pulling the trigger is gonna buy us anymore time.
If they didn’t know we were here before, they fucking know it now.
“Take the shot,” I command prior to curling my gun around the edge of the corner.
“Copy that.”
Assuming Reynolds instantly takes the shot, I do the same, hitting the shooter on the left in the leg. The small pause in firing has me sliding into sight, delivering one shot to the ribs of the male bent over checking the other male’s injury, one shot to the first man’s forehead, and one kill shot to the assailant struggling to process his pierced lung.
“And Guggenheim’s on the move,” Blu announces, although there’s mirth in his tone. “I repeat, the German Cockroach is on the move.”
The need to scramble to my feet increases exponentially.
“You’ve got maybe twenty seconds.”
Which isn’t really enough time but fuck, I gotta make it enough.
I can’t let him hit that switch.
Sprinting even harder than I did the day I earned my medal, I race to the end of the tunnel, taking the curves without caution and ready to shoot anything that moves. The rapid pounding of my heart matches the one of my feet as I push every muscle I have to defy the odds.
Do the impossible.
Rather than taking the few short steps up to the door, I leap over them. Use my shoulder to burst open the door seconds after Guggenheim and the head of security team. There’s no hesitation to unload a bullet between the gunman’s eyes nor is there any when it comes to clipping the computer guru in the arm, successfully stumbling him away from the switch his beige shaded fingers hadn’t quite managed to collide with.
Agonizing cries get drowned out by my declaring, “That was a warning shot.”
As if he hadn’t heard me or now magically doesn’t speak English, Guggenheim makes a second attempt to reach for the failsafe prompting me to clip him near the knee. “Fuccckkkkkk!”
“That was a timeout shot.” His body rumples against the doorframe. “The next won’t be so gentle.”
“Fuckkkkk,” the Doctenn accented man howls in agony.
Wrapping my hand around his throat is accompanied by wedging the edge of the weapon into his mouth. “Here’s the thing about me, Guggenheim. I’m not jus’ trained to save lives…” The firearm gets shoved in a bit deeper. “I’m trained to keep a person alive until I’m ready to let them die.”
His muffled sobs around the pistol aren’t shocking.
“If you would like to live more than a couple more hours, I suggest you stop tryin’ to push that button and give me exactly what it is I’m here for.”
Blu suddenly appears over the man’s shoulder. “He ready to talk?”
The hasty nodding causes me to smirk and gingerly slide my weapon back. “Seems like it.”
Guggenheim sucks in a deep breath prior to shouting, “The safe combination is-”
I keep my firearm positioned for firing while Blu begins the zip tying process, “We’re not here for what’s in the safe-”