After I sent the text, I won't lie, I really wanted to kill someone. In anger, I threw the phone against the soft walls of the motel room causing it to smash. Fragments of the device scatter across the room as the main component comes to a rest on the carpet. I stare aimlessly at the broken item, the trouble it has caused. I was probably tracked on it, I probably caused Charlie to get kidnapped and I'm just after sending out a risky text. A text that is going to cause a whole lot of shit for me and others.
"Come on Sophia" I mutter to myself as I force myself to straighten my back and breath. I have to go now to beat the two men who are probably already on their way to the warehouse. I grab my gun and shove in down my waistband and leave the motel room, not forgetting to leave money on the bed for the fee. I walk back the way towards the area where I met the Huntsman, I'm not worried about him at this exact moment in time. As I weave my way back into busier streets it's not long until I manage to wave down a black cab, a cab to bring me to my destination.
* * *
"This must be it" Becker announces to break the silence as the medium sized warehouse comes into view on his left. It looks daunting against the dark cloudy, orange tinged skies as Jackson pulls into the already opened gate and parking lot. Potholes cause the car to jolt as it's impossible for Jackson to avoid them. He continues driving until he must come to a stop at the main entrance to the warehouse. He turns off the car and the now off headlights give an eerie feel to the place. The men sit in silence for a moment, both feeling an underlying thought that this could all be a trap. However, they wouldn't be here if they didn't feel something else.
"You sure about this?" Becker turns and looks directly at Jackson who has his eyes on the steering wheel. He bits his lower lip before turning to face Becker.
"We are here now, let's see what she has to say" he nearly whispers in his usual low quiet voice. Becker nods and the pair begin to shuffle and move as they each hold a handgun. They open their doors and clamber out, the cold London air a striking different to that of DC. The pair head towards the main normal sized metal door that sits in the centre of the front of the warehouse. I watch from above as they cautiously check their surroundings while maintaining the causal walk but with a gun.
They walk with a purpose, all ex-military people do, it's something that they have been trained to do but I see something else as i watch from afar.
Fear.
I peel my eyes from the murky, mouldy window above the pair and turn and walk north towards the main compartment of the building. I wear all black, from top to toe, my green eyes being the only sign of colour but even then, they look dull. I walk along a grated metal corridor, at the end I see the shape of my silenced Beretta assault rifle. Call it reassurance in case the men have a change of heart. As I walk past it, I lower my right hand and pick it up. It's heavy but not too heavy, it's smooth features and reasonable size make it fit perfectly in my arms. I leave the metal grate and come onto a catwalk, the empty lot of the warehouse below me, and where my two guests have entered. They haven't seen me yet due to the darkness in the place and my selective choice of clothing for the event. I hold up my rifle to make sure they will see it when they see me. I watch as the pair walk into the vacant space shoulder to shoulder, neither of them taking the lead. Neither of them taking the backseat. This shows me that whatever level they are on, they are together. In other words, where one goes the other goes. The have their handguns in sight but they aren't aimed or ready, trust perhaps? I decide, the suspense is enough, Charlie's life is at stake here.
"Were you followed?" I ask and break the silence. Both Becker and Jackson snap their heads up to the sound of a voice, however, their weapons stay lowered. My heart jumps a little at the apprehension of them starting a firefight and I won't say I wasn't relieved when they didn't. I watch as Jackson shifts his wait from one leg to the other while Becker taps his left finger repeatedly against his leg.
"No" Becker replies. I believe them, I can't describe how or why but I do. With that I keep walking down the catwalk towards the metal stair case at the end which will bring me to the ground level. I take my time as a I walk, like Becker my finger taps along the side of my rifle. When I reach the top of the stairs I look to the guys and see that they are slowly walking in my direction. Now that I'm on the stairway, my rifle is in full view. I can't help but get this horrible sickening feeling that any minute Grant is going to come storming in the door and Derosa is going to rope down from the broken glass roof above. It's a possibility but I don't think it will happen.
When my foot takes the last step, I suck in as much oxygen as I can and hold it for a moment, allowing it to fill my lungs. A breathing technique that I find quite useful to calm my nerves even though I rarely get nervous. Now that I'm level with the pair, it's time to get down to business.
We all walk towards each other, not too fast and not too slow. Our eyes stay dead straight on each other, I alternate between them. When we get to within five metres of each other we all stop, as if we had talked and agreed to stop on this exact spot. The silence is unbearable, the eerie 'knowing' feeling that we feel is overwhelming. I let my left hand release the gun and it falls down by my side, my right hand holding it by the grip.
"I wasn't sure you would show up" I start off the engagement because well, someone has too.
"We nearly didn't" Jackson is quick to reply as always. He always seems to have an answer ready for every eventuality. I stare at him but not out of spite but out of intrigue.
"You can't go back now that youre here, you know that right?" I state, this is where it all ends and where it all starts. Jackson and Becker look to each other and share a mutual tilt of the head.
"Yeah, we know" Becker replies, that same sound of defeat evident. I lower my head and puff out a short burst of air, it's followed by a smile.
"You know, I can't shake the thought that Grant or Derosa is come in that door and shoot up the place. I believe you when you say you came alone but, I don't know, it's just weird" I blurt out without reason. It's such a strong feeling that I cannot contain.
"It's weird for us too, being here is defying him" Becker answers, so they know that what they are doing is against everything that Grant stands for.
"Being here, us helping each other, it's going directly against Grant. By being here, you are technically making yourself an enemy of him, an enemy of the CIA and by being with me I wouldn't be surprised if he tries to kill you" I give them the hard cruel truth. But by the look I receive, they already know that. Wrinkles appear on their faces as they fight the urge to run away back to the safety net that is Grant but something keeps them rooted here.
"So, are we on the same page? The page where we promise not to kill each other, turn on each other or rat out each other?" I question in a lighter tone to try and get this party moving a little faster.
"Yeah, thats why we are here isn't it?" Becker replies in a lighter tone also. I nod in reply to his question and turn to look at Jackson who gives a small nod back.
"Good, let's get started. We have a lot of catching up to do" I state. Here we go.
* * *
YOU ARE READING
The Girl Behind The Bullets
Action~BOOK TWO~ It's been five and half months since the events in Cuba, since me, The Black Swan, escaped again. I left The Company, it was the best decision for me and the company so now I'm free lance. People pay me to get the job done and that's h...
