Kingsman: The Devil's Gamble

Chapter Eleven

"Sugar, sugar!" Whiskey's voice rang out softly. "Wake up. Wake up! Goddamnit, Rocky. Please wake up!"

I stirred awake suddenly, my vision blurred momentarily. I simply had no idea what was going on around me, nor did I know the severity of such. As soon as I looked at Whiskey, however, a load of mixed feelings stirred throughout me. Anger because Whiskey had interrupted my beauty sleep in the middle of the night, and tired because of obvious reasons. It's been a long time since I had to wake up in the middle of the night, so being tired was perfectly justified.

"What the hell, Whiskey?" I asked groggily. "What's going on?"

"It's Balor," he said, his hushed voice slightly rising with panic. "He and his men are here. They're in Denver."

My eyes widened as I quickly sat up along the edge of the bed. "Are you serious?" I asked. "Are they at the lodge now?"

"Luckily, no, but we gotta prepare," Whiskey answered. "I'm almost certain that they'll be here combing the place in no time."

"So we gotta get prepared to fight back?" I asked incredulously. "Whiskey, I'm sure the general public here wouldn't be too happy if this place erupted in gunfire."

"But which would they rather have?" Whiskey asked. "Being unhappy that there's gunfire or getting caught in the crossfire? I don't wanna take that risk."

He paused for a moment as his twinkling brown eyes stared mournfully into space. "Not again," he said sadly.

Gently, I placed my hand on his shoulder to comfort him. I didn't know what to say, but I luckily knew what to do...just stand there and comfort Whiskey. I mean, that's the best thing I could do, right? I can be there to comfort him and be the supportive girlfriend that he's always wished for.

"It's gonna be okay, Whiskey," I said gently. "We're gonna get through this."

"I know we are," Whiskey said. "That's why we gotta prepare to kick Balor's ass right now."

I gave him an evil grin. "I like your thinkin'."

We didn't have much else to prepare, except make sure that we had all the weapons we could possibly need. Even our primary weapons that we used had backups. Whiskey and I wanted to stay extra prepared just in case this fight with Balor got out of hand. If we could kick his ass to the curb harder than before, then I'm all for it. Balor deserves the ass-whipping he's been getting—and is about to get. And I'm all for whooping his ass for free.

And I'm sure Whiskey is all for it too.

As soon as we were ready, Whiskey and I made our way down to the front desk to let them know what was going on.

"You got your badge?" Whiskey asked. "They'll probably ask for it."

I showed him my badge located on the right side of my belt. "Right here, Whiskey," I answered.

"Good girl," he said in a low tone as we continued to walk along.

We finally arrived at the front desk, where we had a sense of urgency. The urgency to let the lodge employees know what is going on. That way, we can successfully protect all those who are innocent and just peacefully staying here at the lodge.

"Hi, there," I said to the front desk worker. That's when Whiskey and I leaned against the desk and flashed our badges. "I'm Agent Blackjack," I continued on, "and this is Agent Whiskey. We work for the United States Department of Homeland Security."

That poor desk worker thought she was in trouble, judging by her wide eyes. "Am—am I in trouble, agents?" she asked in such a frightened tone.

"No, no. Of course not," Whiskey reassured. "We just wanted to let you know of an impending situation."