My Protector | Meliodas

33. Rule Number One: No Killing

Meliodas's POV:

Arthur and I agreed that it was a good idea to park a few hundred meters away from the site, in case they had people on the lookout for us. We didn't know how prepared they were for this, and we weren't exactly willing to drive into a trap with potentially ten times the amount of men we have. 

So we parked along the highway and crept through the trees and plains that lead up to the warehouse, which we could tell even from here was operating. I didn't miss how my heart had skipped a beat at the sight of it, knowing Y/N could be in there, waiting for someone to save her. 

Waiting for me to save her. 

Arthur and I's breathing became erratic as we crouched and darted through trees and dashed behind shrubs for cover. According to the people we had posted here, there was indeed a scout, and they had a sniper. 

"Go," Arthur made out with a quick exhale, only running when the Slader gave the signal in his earpiece. I dashed after him, my gun clutched close to my thigh. 

It was beginning to get dark when we arrived, which worked in our favor. It would be harder to see us, and if we were quiet, they wouldn't know we were even here. 

We planned to rescue Y/N without killing anyone, or attracting any attention. But Arthur and I both had our silencers, so it was okay if we were forced to use any means necessary. 

Then when we had her, we would come back and massacre everyone involved. 

That thought comforted me during the ride here. The idea of torturing Howser and his associates - a slow, painful death. It's what they deserve. 

We reached one of the smaller roller-doored sheds on the outskirts of the site and took a few minutes to relax. We could hear a few men talking on the other side of the shed, but so far, it didn't seem like anyone was aware of our presence. 

We kept moving. 

With our guns at the ready and our senses hyper-aware, we darted from shed to shed until we were only a few meters away from the main warehouse. 

It was quiet. For a moment I thought it was too quiet. but that thought was fleeting as footsteps began sounding nearby, until the man himself appeared in our view, his phone pressed to his ear. 

I could barely see his face, but it wasn't hard to tell he was stressed. 

"Sir," his posture stiffened, and I felt Arthur move beside me to get a better look. 

"No, they haven't arrived yet - yes, we did," his voice was shaky as he answered the man over the phone. My eyes were unblinking as I watched him pace back and forth in front of the warehouse door. 

"In the shipping container," he said. He muttered a few other things that were too quiet to hear before he hung up and quickly stalked off away from the warehouse. I inhaled deeply and peeked around the side of the shed we were hiding beside and scanned for guards. 

"We're in the clear," I whispered once I resumed my post, my eyes hard as they fell on Arthur, who nibbled his finger. It was so quiet I could hear Slader. 

"You're good to go, but hurry." I took that and ran. 

Literally. 

My feet stirred up dust as I approached the shed and began fiddling with the handle, trying my best to open the door with as little sound as possible. Once the gap was big enough for me to look inside, I did just that, my vision zoning in on a chair in the center of the warehouse. 

It was empty. 

I almost yelled at the sight of the ropes that pooled around the steel seat, and I had to stop myself from slamming the door shut before I made my way back over to Arthur, whose gaze burned into my own. 

"She's not there, they must have moved her," I grunted, my anxiety peaking at the thoughts swirling in my brain. She could be fucking anywhere by now. 

"She has to be around here somewhere, they don't have any places within a two-hour radius to take her except for back to the city, which would be useless. Let's look around," his voice was comforting, and I nodded quickly. He was right, she had to be here somewhere. 

With Slader's instruction, we managed to weave through every shed successfully, peeping into windows and through cracks indoors in search for Y/N. With every shed clear, the unnerving fact that maybe she was gone lingered in my stomach. 

I didn't know how many sheds we had searched, but surely there weren't many left to check. As we approached one with a window too high up to just look in normally, Arthur gestured that I gave him a boost, which I did. 

As he stepped on my knee and supported himself with the wall of the shed to look into the foggy glass, I kept watching either end of the alleyway. My eyes squinted when I realized we had missed one. 

A dirty white shed, more like a donga for a little office, sat at the end of the alleyway but in the open. My brain clicked into gear at the register of it being a shipping container. 

I nearly dropped Arthur as I replayed Howser's conversation on the phone.

Shipping container. 

I swore at him to hurry up, which he grumbled at and jumped down quietly with a stern look. I ignored it and pointed at the shipping container. 

"What's the stat of the white shipping container?" He murmured into his earpiece, his eyes flickering from the mini shed to the light that illuminated out of the open door behind it. Someone was keeping guard. 

"Surrounded," was all Slader said. I had to stop myself from punching the shed next to me. I was so close to her. She was right fucking there, less than twenty meters away. 

"Can you distract them somehow?" Arthur questioned. I eagerly awaited his response while trying to come up with my own ideas. 

We could've easily gone against our rule of doing it sneakily and just ambushed them. They didn't know we were there, so we would've had the upper hand. I silently scolded myself for not bringing a grenade or something. 

That would have been really handy. 

Just one little overarm throw and boom. 

I almost smiled at the thought. 

It seemed Slader didn't have any ideas either, so we agreed we would wait until they fell asleep or something.