Fire and Silk [A Ben Hardy/Four Fanfiction] ON STANDBY

Prologue

Washington, D.C., United States of America

0300

"Get a fucking grip! I can't do this without you!"

Sweat was dripping off my forehead onto my computer, leaving small dots on the keyboard. The server room was heating up and my frenetic typing wasn't helping my beating heart. You know, movies don't really depict what it is like to hack into a protected security system: it's fucking hard.

"You think I don't know that?" I screamed back into my comms, wondering why I was stuck with such a twat as a co-worker.

Jorgen God-Knows-His-Last-Name hired me two weeks ago to help assist in his, and I quote, "heist of super fucking good Intel". I should've known by the way he was over licking his lips and looking around like a fucking psychopath that this contract would be a bad one. But no, as a newbie in the world of criminals, I thought to myself, "Why the hell not?"

Let me tell you... it was the wrong question.

"Remind me why I'm hacking into this cartel's server?" I inquired half-sarcastic half-serious.

"Intel, baby!"

"Is that the only fucking word you know?!"

It was.

After a few stressful minutes, hearing gunshots and screams in the hallway next to me, I eventually got into their system. Whatever Jorgen wanted, he would get. I did not take the time to check out if he was right, I just downloaded the whole shebang.

"Got it."

Packing my stuff back, I became quickly aware of the deafening silence around me. I stopped moving in a heartbeat, trying to focus on the sounds surrounding me. The light roar of the server, my jerky breath and the drip of my sweat on the floor: nothing else.

"Jorgen?" I whispered, ready to bounce.

Nothing.

"Jorgen, don't fuck with me. Let's get the fuck outta here." I said with a harsher tone, half-expecting the halfwit to be dead already.

I sighed deeply. Him being dead was not the best, I wouldn't get paid... at least not right now. Surely, somebody would love what I had just gathered and would pay a lot for it.

My computer now secured on my back, my gloves back on and my hoodie tucked on my head, I was ready to go. I opened the door slowly. In the hallway, I could count a few bodies on the ground, perhaps five or six.

"Ah, shit. Jorgen."

His eyes were still open, but a small bloody hole was lodged right in the middle of his forehead. I shook my head, he was a dick, but he didn't deserve to die like one.

Tip-toeing through the building, I noticed a few more dead people. Jorgen sure did his job like a pro.

I was careful enough not to touch anything, avoiding with precision puddles of blood, arms and legs resting everywhere. Hoping nobody would stop me in my escape, I made my way to the front door. With a smile, I reached for the doorknob: mission accomplished, well, almost.

"Hey"

An unknown voice came from behind me. I jumped around, my hand already grasping my gun. I was too late though, the man was already locking his own weapon straight to my head.

"Hey," I replied, looking at him straight in the eyes.

He smiled.

"Need a little help with all this?" He asked jokingly, wiggling the tip of his gun around like it wasn't dangerous.

"I think I'm good, man."

Chuckling, he cocked his gun and his smile faded away in an instant. He stepped out of the darkness he was hiding in. A serious look was plastered over his face.

"I got a job for you... Sam."

I raised an eyebrow. I looked between him and the front door repeatedly: I was feet away from freedom and a shitload of money, but... one question got stuck in my head. How did this total stranger know my name?

It seemed like he had read my mind.

"I know what you're gonna ask," he spoke again, "How? Who are you? What do you want? Why are you so handsome? All irrelevant questions at this moment, since about ten men are on their way to kill you right now, and I'm your only hope for survival."

I pursed my lips together, analyzing his face for signs of bluff. There weren't. He was dead serious and soon I'd be dead, dead.

I tried to make a mental list of the pros and the cons, but when you're under pressure like that, you know, when you're about to die, it's hard to think clearly.

"All right." I muttered, lifting my chin in the air.

His smile came back like a child finally getting what he wants. He lowered his gun and took a quick look around. He shrugged his shoulders, murmured something and got back to me.

"Then, come with me if you want to live." He finally said with a deeper voice.

I snorted.

"Really? Terminator? That's the line you're gonna get me, right now?"

Offended, he shook his head.

"Don't shit on a classic, miss."

Against my will, a smile crept on my face.

With these words, we left the building a few seconds before the walls came coming down in a blazing fury. The man screamed in excitement. Explosions were surrounding us as we hopped into a black sports car.

I was quite possibly offering my life to a stranger.