Dagger ~ An AID Spy Novel

~Chapter 10~

~Chapter 10~

“Give me one reason why the next shot shouldn’t go through your head.”

In training, the cliché scenario of someone with a gun to your head was the first to be shown and taught. There were two reactions you could always use. The first being talking to the shooter or stalling until you can find a weapon or backup. The second one was attack and ask questions later. I chose the second reaction.

In my jacket sleeve was a knife, strategically placed so that it wouldn’t dig into my arm, but if I flexed my arm just right, it would fall into my hand, ready to throw. And that’s exactly what I did. As soon as it was in my hand, I threw the knife at Peter’s hand, making his gun drop to the ground and a knife stuck in his palm.

“That’s why,” I answered, rushing up to him.

While running, I threw out my foot, kicking him in the gut with full force. He fell backwards, but soon regained his balance. He stood still and reached for his right hand, pulled out my dagger, making blood stream down. He threw it down and then lunged at me, making both of us fall to the ground with him on top. As I struggled to get up, he punched my face, right below my eye and I knew I would have a bruise later. He drew back and tried to punch me again, but I was finally able to push him off of me. I rolled on the ground, near his gun and picked it up.

By the time I stood back up, Peter was almost on me and grabbed for the gun. As I wouldn’t let it go, he grabbed my wrist and twisted, revealing a shocking pain traveled through my arm. I dropped the gun, but before he could touch it, I kicked it off the ledge so it would be out of the picture. He glared up at me and sneered.

I cradled my left wrist and felt so stupid. How could I come without Ben? And since we only had one car, it wasn’t like Ben could chase after me once he found the note that I left. I knew I had no chance of backup, but I still went. There was nothing I could do now, so I kept on fighting.

Peter was still bleeding out of his hand and I was pretty sure that he broke my wrist. I rushed him and reached out to his bleeding hand with my good one. I squeezed it hard as I pushed him to the ground. He grunted at the pain from his hand and when we hit the ground, I let go of it. I took his head into my grasp and hit hard to the pavement, knocking him out.

With a scared sigh, I checked his pulse, making sure he was still alive and let out a breath when I felt it still thrumming. I went to my duffel that I brought the cameras in and grabbed some fabric. I went back to Peter and wrapped up his hand so he wouldn’t bleed out and never wake up again. When I was finished, I picked up the rest of my equipment that I brought with me, including the bloody knife and ran for the car.

As soon as I pulled into the driveway, Ben ran to my car, opening up my door and pulled me out, and staring at the blood on my shirt.

“It’s not mine,” I reassured him.

He sighed with relief. “What the hell were you thinking!?” He proceeded to lead me to the door. “Are you all right? What happened?”

“Peter caught me while I was leaving, we fought. I’m alright though, it’s just my wrist.”

He sat me down on the couch and left to go get some ice, a wet cloth and a brace. He came back and started cleaning my face up, I didn’t even realize that my nose was bleeding.

“I’m sorry Ben. I shouldn’t have left without out you. I was being reckless and stupid.”

He continued to put on the brace and nodded. “Yeah, you were stupid,” he sighed. “But I’m glad that you are back in one piece – well mostly. It looks like it’s just sprained, but treat your wrist like it was broken, please.” He pleaded and looked up to see my responding nod. “Why did you even go alone? You know better.”