Tuesday, September 20, 2016

The Assassin in India (9)- That... that would be an Assassin.

(Chapter 8)

"Hey," I greeted her, scooting up behind and lining up through the hole in the wall. I made the mistake of looking down as I handed her a clip and lost a second of my life staring into huge dark eyes, framed by long lashes.I'd have capped any one of my men who went ass over teakettle for a woman like that, a second can kill you when there's shooting. She glared at me and starting popping bullets out of the clip. It looked like she had a Sig, I had handed her the clip for a Glock.

I took two shots while she stripped the clip and breech loaded a bullet. I heard a the soft pop of a silenced rifle behind the building closest to us. My boys had gotten one of them. She pushed her way back up and waited, her body perfectly still until the one on the right stuck his upper body out to take a shot at us. The gun almost didn't kick, she must have some ripped up arms under that suit. Either way another pop a few buildings down ended the whole thing. 

I couldn't get more aware, combat'll do that to you, but I did notice the warmth of her body against mine as the adrenaline slowly receded. Her tension level raised by a hair and I moved back, offering her a hand up. She was already rolling back slightly onto her shoulders and coiling her body up onto her feet, all in one smooth move. We'd had some bruisers in training, but I'd never seen a little bit move like that. Her entrance and outfit didn't leave a lot to the imagination and, like I said, I had an ex. Two. I knew what she was and my mind was hustling like a clanless Pikey in winter, trying to find a way to smooth this so that my boys didn't notice. You didn't want to be on an Assassin's radar. 

She hadn't moved. She wasn't so still that you'd notice, not like a Norwegian. Her coloring marked her for the Middle East, titled eyes said she was from the overlap near the Eastern Bloc. I caught the team that had headed out drifting back into base out of the corner of my eye and turned, keeping her in my field of vision. She patiently popped her clip and loaded the remaining bullets before motioning for me to lead the way. 

I brought her back inside. Marky was back out and Timmy had taken up a position at the window by the abandoned occasional, Danielle propped against his shoulder. I wanted to punch him, he should have his sidearm out, not the damn shotgun. She stepped to the side of the doorway as my team came in the front and leaned their rifles against the wall, heading back to the poker game. I winced, sensing what was coming next. They were lone wolves, assassins.

Her Sig came up, pointing straight between my eyes, and I let off a sigh. Timmy glanced at me and cocked one eyebrow. I almost let out a miserable laugh as I shook my head. No I didn't want a bullet on it's way into my cap just so he could pop her, and he was the one I would have thought could keep a cool head around her, for all he felt about birds. My unit froze. I took a moment to contemplate the phrase as I stared kept half an eye on them. They looked ready for blood, I was not.

It wasn't the gun. If you're SRR you wind up expecting bullets after a while. They don't put you through nine weeks of hell and a mandatory interrogation resistance course (we sit in classrooms, I promise), just so you can man a desk with your boots kicked up. It was the fact that this stupid fucking bint was itching to put us on her list of people to eliminate. No assassin liked being identifiable, and it was getting harder to miss what she was- if you had the intelligence to even be sure they existed. James Bond had done a number on that belief. 


"If you'll not move, while I check on you." She told us calmly, producing an iPhone from a slit pocket and thumbing in a request. Could she possibly think she'd take us all? Her attitude said, yes. For the first time since I saw her slide in against the wall my blood started to heat up. That was stupid.



(Continue to Part 10)

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