Mila Babinski is the most deadly assassin the underground has seen in years... all the mobsters fear her... she even fears herself. Mila lost everyone she ever cared for at a young age and the time has now finally come to get her revenge. But when...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Five at the back and seven at the front," Zasha informs me through my earpiece.
"Handle those at the back I'll take the front, Frank is located in his office I'll meet you there." I start to emerge from the safety of the shadows. Seven men dressed in all black march around the parameter, clutching on to their guns on the lookout for intruders. Rustling the bushes around me, I catch the attention of one of the men. Curiously he leaves the other men to investigate where the sound came from - horrible decision sweetie.
Time for some fun.
Knife in one hand, gun in the other I confront my target. I knee him in the groin and slit his throat before he can even blink. One down six to go.
Blood pools at my feet as I wipe my knife and start to approach the others. Sticking low to the ground, I spot an opening between two of the men. I aim my gun between one of the man's eyes and pull the trigger.
*BANG*
Dead.
I charge towards the other man who now has his gun aimed directly at me. As he pulls the trigger, I swiftly move around the bullets flying at me through the crisp air - not one bullet even grazing my skin.
Ugh amateurs.
I finally reach him and in one quick motion I jerk my leg and bring him to his knees.
Just how I like it.
Placing the tip of the blade just above his jugular, I tightly wrap my fingers around his blonde locks and yank his head back. Reaching down my plump lips slightly brush against the top of his ear, "I think you should work on your aim sweetheart."
Before he can respond I elegantly drag the deadly blade across his throat. Releasing him, his limp body slumps to the dirt beneath us. A sea of deep red surrounds him whilst his horror stricken eyes lay open. Satisfied, a devious smiles develops on my face. There is just something about having control and power over someone's life that brings me a sense of tranquility and joy. Now don't get me wrong taking a life is not easy and I do feel remorse - for the innocent. However the lives I take are far from innocent and they would gladly put a bullet between a helpless child's eyes or a vulnerable family.
Suddenly, my arms are grasped behind my back and I am disarmed.
Slightly squirming I breathe out, "Wrong move dick."
Twisting my arms in his grip, I clasp my hands around his biceps and tug him over my shoulder and he crashes to the ground, grunting in pain. My boot comes down on his throat restricting his airways, whilst I reach down to uncover one of the hidden knives that is strapped to my lower leg. One of the other men bounds towards me and seizes a hold of my free wrist. Swiveling round I plunge the knife into the side of his throat causing droplets of blood to burst onto my face. When I retrieve my knife from his neck, his body plummets to the ground.
Gasps catch my attention back to the writhing soldier beneath me. With one final impact of pressure against him, he suffocates - finally.
Stepping over the lifeless body, I make my way over to the two final soldiers who guard the front door - oblivious to the fate their fellow friends have met.
I pause three metres in front of them and with a knife in each hand, I launch them at my targets. Blood streams from their chests where the blades were gracefully submerged and they both collapse.
***
"Everything okay?" Zasha's voice echos through my ears.
"Yeah all good, any guards outside his office?" I question .
"No," she responds.
"Good, wait there, I'm on my way."
Trudging up the grand staircase I wipe the flecks of red from my face and I finally find myself outside an oak door next to my best friend.
Zasha's deep brown eyes with streams of honey scan over my face whilst she checks to see if I have any wounds. I wipe her dark skin that is smeared with blood while she fixes her long curly hair into a bun on the top of her head.
"I'm fine Z," I assure her.
"I know," she smirks while nudging my swollen shoulder.
"You bitch," I laugh, clutching my arm in pain. "You ready to give this dick what he deserves?"
"Always," she answers removing the safety on her revolver.
Frank has been one of our targets for a couple of months now, the slimy bastard has been on the move for as long as I can remember cutting our trackers off completely, he's in charge of one of the biggest human trafficking organisations in the country, but soon that won't be the case.
"On my count," I say whilst clutching my knife in one hand and gun in the the other.
