The Alliance (TomTord Fanfic) (#Wattys2017)

Chapter 17

    "Tord, are you one hundred percent sure this will work according to your plan?"
    "Of course, Thomas! You have to trust me on this, alright?"
    "Fine.... I'll trust you."
    "That's the spirit!"
    Tord and Tom sat on the roof of the Crimson Navy base. Strangely, there weren't any cameras up there to see the two leaders, so no one was aware of their plan.

    Anyways, our 'heroes' sat there, waiting. Tord gripped a large sniper rifle in his hands and was inspecting the weapon, as if to say 'how the fuck do I use this' when he, in fact, had used a sniper before. Tom sat there, staring at the idiot, and listening to the calm breeze of the sea nearby. But he wasn't just listening to that, oh no. He was also listening for footsteps, doors opening, anything that indicated that a certain military general was outside with his posse.

    Finally, after about two hours of waiting on the sun-scorched roof, the front doors of the base opened. Tord and Tom looked at each other quickly and stayed absolutely silent, not moving a single muscle in their bodies. They listened to the rushed voices from down below them, indicating many people. Tord grinned like a cat and he positioned his gun to the nearest place he saw of 'ground'. Tom jabbed his side with his own elbow, causing Tord to flinch.

   "What?!" He whisper-yelled at Thomas, who seemed to roll his pure black eyes.
    "How many bullets did you bring?" Tom asked in a hush.
    "Six. That's how many guards there are, I think." Tord whispered back, showing Tom the gun. The Brit saw that it was already locked and loaded, ready to shoot, so that Tord didn't have to cock it when they were supposed to be silent and hidden. The communist went back to aiming the sniper at the nearest point of ground he had in his line of sight.
    "Let's hope you're right..." Tom mumbled under his breath as he watched Tord steady the sniper in his grip until he felt comfortable with its angle. He turned his attention back to their line of sight, just barely seeing the guards, along with their main target, walking out of the base's entrance.
   "On the count of three..." The blue leader mumbled to his partner as the communist took aim. "One....... two..... THREE!" He whisper-yelled, as Tord jumped slightly and started shooting the almost silent bullets. Tom couldn't help but turn away from the gruesome scene that unfolded.

   Once the gun went silent, Tord gently placed a hand on the Brit's shoulder.
   "Hey.... the job is done." He spoke in an almost gentle voice. "You can look now." Tom unfurled from his protective ball state and into normally sitting. All he saw was the ground stained bright red with the blood of the people they had just shot to death. Tom gulped slightly. Sure, he was an army general and should have been used to blood, but somehow, he still hated the color even itself. Well, except when Tord wore it, it seemed. Then he was fine with the vibrant color.

    Tord got to his feet quickly and dragged Tom to a standing position. Just then, it hit him. Loud, ringing sounds started going off below them. Alarms.

    The communist held tight onto his crush as he jumped off the roof, dragging a startled Tom with him. The two landed next to one of the many trees that surrounded the ocean base, and Tord started sprinting. Sprinting like his life depended on it, which it did. But more important to him, Tom's life depended on it, too. So he ran as fast as he could, dragging the Brit behind him.