Came for the Low- Revised

Untitled Part 12

    Machiavelli. She hadn't really liked it, but the story had never been the point—even then she knew.

    Now, sitting on the lid of the hotel room toilet, she wondered if Zemo might consider something a little less political. The Chronicles of Narnia, maybe the Hobbit? Oh! The witches, she still loved Roald Dahl just as much as she had when she was a little girl. Drawing her knees up under her chin until she was perched like cat on a fence, she smiled with the strong suspicion that a love for good books was inherited.

     Christine blinked herself free of the day dream and focused on the little white stick she held.

    Two pink lines.

    She laughed nervously and wiped her eyes, unsure of what to feel as it seemed every emotion she was capable of having came bubbling up with the sudden wave of nausea that she forced back down.

    Well, she thought setting the stick on the counter, their dinner tonight would consist of a little more than simply tasting the local delicacy. Now she had news to deliver over the Espetos. Funnily enough, she thought sardines sounded amazing... maybe with a virgin Pina colada to wash it down she grinned.

    The sound of the hotel door opening made her heart leap. Christine's adrenaline rushed and she worried it would be impossible to keep the secret until tonight, but wouldn't it be lovely for him to find out with the waves crashing into the beach and the sun setting in the distance...

    "Welcome back." She called with a bright smile as she opened the bathroom door. "You liar, you said your were taking a ....nap"

    The sight of a six foot tall masked assassin standing in the middle of the suite with his gun raising towards her tossed Christine's mind into survival mode so quickly, she was acting before she realized it.

    She slammed the door shut, retreating to the corner between the massive bathtub and the wall with her hands over her ears as he shot up the door —the piece screwed onto the tip of his gun keeping his work silent.

    Five shots were fired, she counted them without realizing she had. And then nothing.

    Christine made her move with the few seconds she had, because what this man did not know, was that the balcony off the French doors in the sitting room extended the length of the suite.

    His steps were heavy as he came towards the bathroom unaware of her escape.

    Slipping through the already open door, careful to shut it behind her in case he noticed, Christine quickly walked the length of the balcony, realizing for a split second that she was still in her underwear but could not care less. The wild ocean wind whipped her hair as she edged along, trying her best to listen to him inside.

    Pushing open the doors to the bedroom ever so slightly, she tipped her head in enough to see the man kick into the bathroom.

    This was her only chance. Silent in her bare feet, she ran to the side of the bed nearest her and reached for the gun behind the headboard. She and Zemo always stayed prepared.

    One foot in front of the other and she rounded the bed without a sound, raising and steadying the weapon with both hands, she tilted her head and lined him up. "Looking for something?"

    The confused assassin spun around, turning to see her just in time to meet his fate head on.

    She'd always been an excellent shot.

    The man fell so hard that the sound of him hitting the white marble floor made her shudder. Lunch threatened to make a reappearance, small as it was but she held on.

    Lowering the gun and breathing hard she went to him, unafraid of any retaliation. The hole between the failed assassins eyes assured her that he would not be making a return. "Today of all days." She mumbled staring down at him. "Im pregnant you asshole!" She shouted and kicked his limp leg.

    With another furious scream, she slammed the door shut to block him out and stood there, pressing the heel of her hand to her temple, the gun weighty but nearly forgotten. She was breathing so hard she thought she might faint, until she dropped her free hand to her stomach realizing the true danger hadn't even been to herself.

    "You're safe." She whispered feeling her reserves crack. Good god, she already felt the powerful need to protect this life at all costs. "I'm sorry..." She said to her stomach and turned to slide down the door, sitting with her back to the ruined wood and shut her eyes.