Divergent FBI

Chapter Thirty-Three

Instantly, all hell breaks loose. Men spring forward to attack us and within seconds, I've thrown two more knives and killed two more people. Four and I still refrain from shooting anyone, not wanting to drag more attention to us, but if there were ten men sitting in Chris's room, waiting, I'd say they already know we're here.

I see Four out of my peripheral vision disarm one of the men before snapping his neck. I cringe as the loud sound makes its way through the room, but it was a mistake to do so on my part. The moment I begin paying attention again I see that a man has already thrown a knife at me and it has grazed my arm. Blood starts dripping onto the floor and before the man can make a more lethal throw at me, I throw another knife back at him. It sinks into his neck, and blood gushes from the wound. He clutches at the the knife before collapsing, his hands still wrapped around his neck as his eyes close. Dread makes its way through my body, weighing me down mentally. How many people have I killed today?

Before I allow myself to ponder the question and think about it too much, I throw three more knives at three different men, but only at their legs or stomach so I don't end the lives of even more people.  After those three go down, there is only one more man and Four's the one fighting him.
I watch with a sick fascination as Four blocks every blow the man throws at him, eventually getting an opening and pushing the man against the wall, Four's hands pressed against his neck. Whether it's to crush his windpipe or just deprive him of oxygen, I don't know, but he's dead within a couple seconds. My eyes are glued to the body as it slumps to the ground, and before I start losing it, I look at Four. He stares back at me, then at the three men writhing in pain on the floor below me.

Before I even know what's happening, he pulls out his gun and shoots them, splattering red, sticky blood all over me and the walls. My jaw drops and he stares at me with hard eyes before rushing to Chris. I shake my head back and forth as tears come to my eyes but nevertheless, I crouch down and cut the restraints off of Christina's feet. Then, I slip the knife through the gag and immediately, she takes a long, deep breath.

"Oh my God, Tris." She collapses forward onto me when Four gets her hands free and I just rub soothing circles on her quaking back.

"We got her Will." Four says before yanking up on Christina's ripped dress. "Come on Chris, if we wanna get out of here we need to go now." She nods her head quickly and I exchange a angry glance with Four before getting on her other side. If I were her, I'd want maybe three more seconds to figure out what the hell just happened.

Four ignores my glare and instead tugs on my arm, pulling all three of us out into the hallway.

~*~

Mystery POV

"The target is leaving the room." Someone tells me, just as I'm watching it on the screen.

"I can see that." I snap, how stupid does he think I am?

"Sorry, ma'am."

"It's fine, we got what we needed and that's all that matters. How many dead?" I question, watching as Tris Prior and Tobias Eaton stalk through the hallways, Christina Holland under their guard.

"Thirteen." I nod my head slightly, I figured they would kill everyone they came across. "Do you want me to send guards to capture them, ma'am?"

"No!" I bark, sending him a death glare. "I already told you, we have what we need. In fact, keep any of the corridors, alleys, or garages that they're going to use clear, I don't want them to be injured any more than they already are." They approach the last hallway with caution, and I smile as they sprint out the door. "They'll get what's coming to them, I promise... Keep an eye on them, make sure they get out of Mexico with no trouble, and alert me if anything interesting happens."

After getting a nod of recognition, I walk out the door and down the hallway to my office. I open the door to see Miguel, making himself quite at home at my desk. He must want something, otherwise he wouldn't be in here. No one comes in my office.

"What do you want?" I grit out, walking around my desk to usher him out of my seat.

"No, greetings anymore?" He asks me, his accent thick.

"Not when you're in my office. Now, what do you want?"

"Well, I want to know when I'm going to get my money back." He states, his beady, green eyes watching, calculating my next move. I stand up a little but taller.

"You'll get your money, when the experiment is finished." He sighs and chuckles before looking down at his fingers to watch as he drums them along my glass desk. It leaves fingerprints.

"That's not soon enough," He tells me, looking back at my face. "I want my money now, and I also want you out of my warehouse." A smirk overtakes my face. It's times like these when I'm so very happy that Miguel hasn't been properly educated, all he knows what to do is sell drugs.

"Miguel, Miguel, Miguel," I say, taking a seat in my office chair and lacing my hands together in front of me. I gesture for him to take a seat and he goes to the other side of the desk before doing exactly that. "Are you aware that you are one of the top five most wanted men in America. The FBI, the CIA, the DEA, hell every single one of the United States protective services wants you behind bars."

"Where are you going with this?" He questions, his tan face folding in on itself.

"Do you know how easy it would be to put you in handcuffs and hold you here until one of those agencies comes to pick you up?" Miguel squirms in his seat. "Do you want to be turned in?" He shakes his head, his eyes angry. "That's what I thought, so I'll let that little incident a few moments ago slip, but next time you threaten me, think through it a little bit more. You're dismissed."