Soldiers And Beasts

5. Ironfield Cantonment Pt. 3

(Gore Warning)

John Pov.

I was very afraid and for good reason. I wasn't sure what was going to happen to me once the soldiers inside and on the other side of the station were to find out that I wasn't one of them. Half of me was sure that this was a very ridiculous idea. None of these soldiers would just up and believe that I was one of them. I'm pretty certain that they have been here longer and have gotten used to seeing the same soldiers. There's no way these guys were total idiots. But for the life of me, let's hope that they were.

When I entered the station through the backside, I walked inside, donning the uniform of one of the guards that the others took down. Thankfully there was no blood present on the uniform. The station was a pretty big place, so I knew it was going to take some time to find the radio post in one of the rooms. It hasn't even been a minute since I entered and already I could feel bullets dripping from my forehead. I could even feel my armpits begin to water as I walked around the station, carefully trying not to give away my position while also trying to look for the radio post.

As if things couldn't get any better, I came across a guard in the hallway. I knew I had to keep my cool and my anxiety hidden. "Mbrëmje." I greeted the guard in Albanian, sounding as casual as can be. "Hey." the guard replied, having an American English accent. At first, I felt stupid for assuming that most of the guards here were Albanian, but at least they knew each other long enough to understand that there were others here of different ethnicities.

"Come on, where the hell is it?" I whisper-scream inside of my mouth, keeping my lips sucked in as I had my eyes locked everywhere to see where the radio post could be. Though the station was big but not that big at the same time, it was somewhat difficult to find the room I was looking for. Finally, after several minutes, I found it.

Before I opened the door, I saw that a guard was sitting on the chair, speaking into the microphone. "Fuck." I whisper-yell. I had to get rid of him. Thankfully, he wasn't going to be on for long. When he finished saying whatever it was that he was talking about, he turned off the radio. Taking this chance, I sneak inside the room, then sneak behind him. As soon as the right moment comes, I draw my STI Tactical 4.0 from its holster and cover his mouth and shoot two bullets into the side of his face, and then set the barrel underneath his lower jaw and send a bullet through his head, each bullet penetrating his head and squirting blood when the bullets tore through his flesh. His body goes limp immediately and before he falls off the chair, I grab him by his collar and gently set his body down on the ground, blood beginning to draw from the three bullet holes embedded in his head, creating a dark-red puddle of blood around his head.

With the guard dead and no one hearing the sound thanks to the silencer on my pistol, I take the bug and press on the glass dome in the center. When I do, a red light flashes each second through the glass dome. With the bug now active, I hid it somewhere in the room where no one would find it; behind the radio post. Then again, it was set to explode at any moment so it wouldn't have mattered where it was placed, and the explosion was going to be huge, but what did matter was me getting the hell out of here.

As soon as I exit the room, I am met with the guard from earlier. Without expecting it - even though I should have - the guard locks his hand on my throat and raises me off the ground and slams me against the wall. "Who are you?!" He yells into my face. "Get the fuck off me-" "Who the fuck are you, and who the fuck are you working for, you little shit?! You think we're that fucking stupid?!"

"Heh... well, I surely did get past you the first time and that worked out nicely for me now, didn't it, you stupid motherfuck-" I was met with a punch to my stomach and then one across my lip, sending blood splattering on the ground that came from my lip. I frowned, feeling a bloody trail running down my lip.