~Chapter 20 - The Military~

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Febuary 6th was the day. It was the day we snuck into the military base. It was hard to believe that we were going in with only knives for the most part though. It had been two weeks since John and I had gone to that grocery store. Those two weeks were mostly spent with me teaching all the guys stealth tactics. Most of them were uneasy about our plan but the others were completely on board. I was the most experienced with knives and being stealthy after all. Living on the streets for a while on your own can really teach you a lot on how to protect yourself.

But in these past two weeks I often found myself tangled up in hopeless thoughts of Dylan. So much time was needed for us to even be able to get him back. I wondered if he would even be alive by the time we got there. There was slight hope in the small word 'if' but there was also slight disappointment; a fifty- fifty shot. I knew these were horrible things to ponder but, sadly, it was reality. Even the thought of a hopeless reality was horrifying for me to think of. But, after all, my life has been filled to the brim with petrifying reality. Some people had the luxury of not having that kind of reality. Others, such as Dylan, the gang, most of the Los Santos citizens, and I, don't have that magnificence. Reality was in a different form for us than going home to wonderful parents who wouldn't force you into a gang, a safe home where you could relax and not have to worry about gunshots outside of your window, and just a grand life in general.

Some parts of me felt a burst of adrenaline and excitement when I went on missions though. When I was younger I always thought of missions with my family gang, The Outsiders, as a family who went on secret missions to find something that was significant to the mission. But as harsh reality comes into play, it was the complete opposite. The only reason my family had turned into a gang family was mainly because of my father when he saw a wanted gang on our TV. I was about three years old at the time. His work wasn't paying him as much as they had once used to and it was really hitting us hard. He would get drunk out of his mind and scream at anyone he could constantly. I can still remember the sound of half empty beer bottles being smashed on the ground or against a wall and the sharp, jagged shards of glass flying around the room and onto the floor; yet another reason why I have cold taste of the word we call 'reality.'

I hadn't noticed that I was sprawled out on the couch with thoughts swarming around in my head like a reckless tornado until Delirious waved his hands in front of my face.

"Is she dead?" I heard Tyler joke. I sat up just in time to see Brock swat him on the back of the head. A few chuckles were heard from the guys as Tyler groaned and rubbed his head. He gave Brock a death glare. Brock just smiled it off cheekily as if he was proud of what he had just done. I just smiled and rolled my eyes at their silliness.

"We have ten minutes before we leave, so I suggest you get the rest of your things together," Evan told me. I looked at the clock that read 7:50pm

>>7:50pm

>>Febuary 6th, 2018

I nodded and got up and off of the couch. I noticed that all of the guys were by the front door or in the kitchen as I walked off to find where I set my duffel bag. First I checked the knife room where Delirious and I had been. When I opened the door the once dismembered knife we had left on the ground wasn't there anymore. No knives were placed neatly inside of their glass cases today. All of the guys took them and prepared themselves for one of the most intense missions we've had yet. I scoped the room out for the bag but had no luck in finding it.

I continued my search for the bag and went into the attic where Marcel and I had played videogames. I spotted one controller on the armrest of a small chair that rested in the corner of the room, and the other controller on the floor next to the chair. I looked behind and around the chair and by the boxes that held the candles and other random things John kept up in the slightly dusty attic. With my luck, I didn't find the bag again. I assumed I only had about five minutes left at this point.

I proceeded back to the living room to  search for the bag. Maybe it was there all along and I just hadn't seen it. When I got there all the guys were talking in the kitchen except mini. He was on the couch on his computer just like the night we did the ask mini. I walked around the couch and search for it. I could feel mini's gaze on me as I did so.

I looked up at him, only for him to quickly look away from me as if he had been looking at his brightly lit screen that reflected off his glasses that whole time I had been searching the room.

"Mini, have you happened to see a bag anywhere around? It's black with a couple leather buckles on it," I asked him, acting like I didn't see him staring at me a few seconds ago.

"Uhm, uh, yeah actually. It's over there on the kitchen table. I put it over there a little while ago." I looked over and it was exactly where he said it was.

"Oh," I chuckled, "I'm pretty blind huh?" He didn't look up from his computer to respond. He just smiled and continued hitting the computer keys at a fast pace. I assumed he was getting ready for the mission as well.

"Y/N! You have a minute left!" Vanoss yelled from down the hall. I sprinted to my room to put on my gear. I took off the clothes I was wearing and put my bulletproof vest on first. Then I quickly grabbed my short sleeved black shirt and my jeans with a leather texture. I then grabbed the matching suspenders and hooked them onto the belt holes of the jeans. After that I put on my black combat boots and thoroughly wrapped my holster around my pants, putting my knives inside of it.

Hope was another word that was in my head. Survival was another. But there's a huge difference between the two words. Having hope is me having slight assurance that we'll get out of the situation. Surviving is us totally getting out alive. But this time, I couldn't choose one word over the other.

"We're going to survive this mission," I whispered to myself in a slightly upbeat tone, "I have hope." And with that final whisper, one by one we all ran out of the base and into the armored trucks, leading our way to the start of one of the most nerve racking missions there was, and will ever be.

A/N
The song at the top is so underrated it hurts my soul. Anyways, I hope y'all eNjOyEd this chapter! Half of this was a draft from literally the beginning of last year which is crazy to me, AND THIS BOOK IS LITERALLY #1 IN THE BRYCE TAG. I SCREAMED TY GUYS SO MUCH!!!!! I'm hoping I can get enough motivation to keep writing but thank you to all of you for how much support this book has gotten it means so much to me. But with that I hope ye enjoyed :)

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