White Knight

First Encounter

Your Pov

As you get to your destination it's early morning the sun just rising, you can feel the cold, brushing against the top of your face, your breathing gets heavy as you get closer, the silence defending. Only being able to hear the light chatter and singing of birds and the small chirps of crickets in the fields around you. Ahead of you is the small grey building with no doors or windows, the cracks in the walls show it's been unused for a long time, as you get closer to the wall you see the hydra symbol you expected spray-painted in red. You pull your hood further over your head and make sure your mask is tight against your face, carrying the small bag in your hand, you feel the weight bearing down in your right arm, your grip tightens making your knuckles white as you reach an opened doorway. As you flick your eyes around the room scanning for any movement, you check the area to make sure there is still no one around. You let out a small breath and loosen your grip on your bag, the white in your knuckles fade and you look around for the best advantage point. There are stacks of boxes and bales at the back of the room you could hide between, or there are the dark roof beams with fecks of light coming down through the metal roof. Knowing your safest option, placing your black duffle onto your back. You jump between the support beam attached to the floor and the wall. Pulling your self up to the top and removing the bag from your back. Laying across the beam, pulling out your rifle, and placing it on the silencer. You wipe your brow bone remembering the memorised picture of the high-end weapons dealer who is meant to be arriving today, you can remember him and his file in the back of your mind (Mark Blane. 32, 6'1, black hair, dark tan. Clear lion tattoo on the left of his neck.) After a few moments of only being able to hear your steady heartbeat and the sound of each of your breaths pound through the silence. Your ears prick at the distant sound of a dirt track being disturbed, and the wheels of a 4x4 pulling closed to the abandoned building you are currently waiting to ambush in. As the car pulls up the hum of the engine is all you can hear for the small few seconds before a door opens followed by the other 3 doors. You hear some muffled voices so focus your hearing. "Get them out of the car" "Yes Boss" followed by the sound of the trunk of the car opening. With shuffled feet moving across the dirt ground, 4 men enter the main area of the building. One with dark black hair, one with brown and one with blond all dressed in black t-shirts and cargo trousers meant to be the muscle of this little operation. Walking ahead of the men is Mark in his nicely fitted black 3 pieces, cleanly shaven with a nice gold Rolex on his wrist watching the way he is moving you can tell he isn't used to a fight. As the blond thug drags a small body with him, they are in normal civilian clothes a white blouse and a black skirt they have a bag placed over their head with cable ties binding their wrists and their legs together. Mark points at the exits signalling for his muscle to check the area, The blond throws the woman to the floor and walks back the way they came in, while the other two separate one heading left and one heading right. As they step out of the door frames I lift the but of my rile into my shoulder my heart rate steady I breathe out and lightly pull the trigger, there is a soft light thud on to the ground as Mark collapses with a tiny amount of blood falling from his head. The first blond thug walks back into the area and pulls out his gun, I quickly pull the trigger before he can reach his radio, with another thud to the ground. The quieter man with black hair is next to enter the room, clicking his radio before I can pull the trigger. Causes the man with the brown hair to come sprinting back into the room. I pull the trigger as they are now on the ground their hearts stopped along with their breathing. All I can hear is the light steady heartbeat of my own and the woman who lays on the ground. As a hostage her heart rate should be elevated, her breathing shallow. It's not, it calm and steady like mine. I allow my self the chance to place my rifle back in my duffle bag and place it on to my back. Slowly jumping down from the roof, landing softly on my toes, I walk over to the woman on the floor. Placing a finger into your earpiece "Comand Mission Complete. We have a Hostage. Over" Your strong British accent flies through the silence of the room. As your watching her on the floor as you get closer her breathing took a light stop when you spoke. You saw her body tremble, it didn't match her breathing or her heart rate, she was attempting to look more vulnerable and weak. I lowered my body next to hers and pulled off the hood, to be met with bright red hair cascading down her small face, piercing green eyes which scanned the room to study the room. Her familiar face took me back, the emotion passed and I stepped back. The woman in front of me snapped off her cable ties and jumped to her feet, easily. She quickly identified me as a threat and went to pull a punch, I caught her first and spun her body to face outward and flush against my body rendering her immobile. I held her wrists firmly but not hard enough to injury, I lowered my head to her ear and said "They are dead, I'm not here for you" quietly and calmly with my accent flying through her ear. I release her from your grip.

I vanish into a cloud of smoke before she can turn around.