Emoji or Execution?

Chapter 14: Machinations in Mycenae

Gracie stood by the bar, watching the crowd with a casual smile, her eyes trained on the scientist they were supposed to protect. The elegant fundraiser buzzed around them, but her instincts sharpened as she noticed three men, dressed too neatly in dark suits, inching closer to their target. They weren't ordinary guests—these men had a purpose, and it wasn't friendly.

She leaned in to Spectre, who was nursing a drink beside her. "We've got company. Three of them, heading for the scientist. Get him out of here, now."

Spectre nodded without a word, his eyes narrowing as he spotted the same threat. "What are you going to do?"

"I'll handle them. Just move." Her voice was firm.

Spectre didn't hesitate. He moved swiftly toward the physicist, who was oblivious to the danger, caught up in a conversation about his work. Gracie, meanwhile, took a slow sip of her wine, casually stepping into the path of the three men. Her heart pounded, but outwardly she was calm.

As the first man brushed past her shoulder, she turned sharply, "Excuse me," she smiled innocently, "I think this is yours." In one smooth motion, she threw the remaining wine in his face, the alcohol blinding him. His scream was short but loud enough to cause heads to turn.

Before anyone could react, Gracie swung the empty glass with force, smashing it against the second man's temple. He crumpled, dropping to the floor.

The third man was faster. He tackled her to the ground, knocking the air from her lungs, but she twisted under his grip, using her momentum to drive her knee hard into his ribs. He groaned in pain, loosening his hold just enough for her to land a sharp elbow to his face.

With a swift turn, Gracie rolled free, flipping the man onto his back. She pinned him down, twisting his arm painfully behind his back, and with a quick strike to his throat, he was down for good.

She stood, breathing heavily, wiping the sweat from her brow. The distraction had worked, but there was no time to savor the moment. She spotted Spectre and the scientist weaving through the crowd, but more men were already in pursuit.

"Damn it," she muttered under her breath. She bolted after them, weaving between startled guests, ignoring their panicked whispers and stares.

As she ran, Spectre's voice crackled through the earpiece. "We've got a problem. More incoming from the east side. They're cutting us off."

Gracie responded, her voice steady despite the chaos. "Keep him moving, I'm right behind you."

The chase was on. Gracie could hear footsteps closing in, but her mind was laser-focused. Whoever these men were, they clearly underestimated her. She had been trained for moments like this, and there was no way she was letting them take the scientist.

"Just a little farther," Spectre's voice was tense, but Gracie could see them now, not far ahead. She was close enough to hear the scientist's breath coming in frantic gasps as he tried to keep up.

Behind her, the sound of more footsteps. They were closing in fast.

"Spectre!" Gracie shouted into the earpiece, "Get ready, we're about to have company!"

Gracie, catching up to Spectre and the scientist, quickly assessed the situation. Footsteps thundered toward them from behind, the suited men in pursuit closing in fast. She wasted no time, her hand slipping to the hidden strap under her dress. In a fluid motion, she pulled out a small, compact handgun from her thigh holster and aimed toward the ceiling.

Bang! The single shot echoed loudly through the room.

The crowd, already on edge from the earlier commotion, erupted into chaos. People screamed, running in all directions, providing much-needed cover as the trio of Gracie, Spectre, and the scientist broke away from their chasers. The confusion worked in their favor, as more bodies filled the space between them and the contractors.