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CHAPTER 15

Author: Intrigue
last update Last Updated: 2024-10-29 19:42:56

       

The bangs echoed continuously, triggering a whirlpool of anxiety amongst the agents that laid in wait outside the house, chances were the guns had not been fired at him, but rather the opposite, even more alarming was the darkness that suddenly plagued the building as soon as the gunshots ceased, someone had deliberately turned off the power, and if they doubted before, that was proof, he knew they were coming, if nothing else, he was ready for them.

        The idea of stealth appeared like a futile effort, Sunday had seen them coming, there was no time for games, using their beam lights, they pushed down the lawn, angling their guns in front of them, in case of any surprises, as they trailed behind each other, pushing against the door, they stormed the building, the first set of three advanced into the house, quietly shifting through the living room, led by the team leader, while the others followed a few steps behind, trailing the glowing green dot on the tracker that pointed to Sunday, in minutes they assembled at another door, each one leaning against the cold wall, waiting for the signal to kick it open, a swift nod from the leading agent did the trick, as two agents kicked down the door, they moved in, narrowing their guns around the room, with the intentions of having every corner in their line of fire, but instead they find the first set of agents, disarmed and scattered across the floor, in a wriggle of pain, they were hurt, but none appeared fatally wounded, that proved just how faint the chances were of getting him to come willingly, and for a moment they didn't focus on the tracker that kept on blinking a bright green.

        All six men scanned the room, threading cautiously, it wasn't nearly big enough, which meant there was only a handful of places he could hide, Sunday was smart, he would hide in the least suspicious of places, somewhere they would never think to look, right under their nose, or as most would put it, hidden in plain sight, the search had only begun, but the tension was thick enough to be felt, the darkness didn't make it easy, and the tracker only made it worse, they knew where he was, the only problem was how to find him, eyes peeled to the extreme, with sweat running down their foreheads, they battled with the confusion of the obvious, this would be Reuben's fourth mission, yet the ones before now hadn't even come close to making his heart race the way it currently did, despite the dark, anyone could see the sadness that floored the room where they stood, it was upsetting, unnerving, damp, it made him remember what the senior officer had said earlier, about his past, about his sister, he didn't know him that well, in fact, he didn't know him at all.

        The tap on his shoulder was enough to put an abrupt stop to the bits and pieces he had tried to put together, it was soft, gentle, but it sufficed, when he turned, he realized that half the team had their attention on the mirror that rested against the wall, but as ordinary as it looked, they could tell that something wasn't quite right, without any warning, the team leader dashed the glass with the tail of his rifle, chards of broken pieces hit the floor, the sounds of the shattered glass finally putting an end to the dominant silence, and as the screech faded, they looked back at where the mirror had once been, a motionless figure starred back at them, it was steady, almost intimidating, there was no mistaking, the darkness wasn't an excuse anymore, that was him, the one they came here for, that was Sunday.

         In an instant, the team leader as well as the other agents locked their sights on him, ready to fire if anything goes south, for a man who had six rifles aimed at different parts of his body, he appeared anything but bothered, a reaction that wasn't unexpected if the histories were correct, they were going to give him the opportunity to explain himself, in cuffs, judging from their crystal clear prejudice, someone had to tell him the drill, their terms, or the hard side of wall street.

       With his gun still pointed at Sunday, the team leader made an attempt to reason with him.

     " We're taking you in, get on your knees, and put your hand behind your head, ... slowly " 

        He did as they had ordered, slowly pushing both hands till they met at the back of his head, while he went on his knees as they had wanted, quickly Reuben went behind him, and trapped his left hand in a cuff, proceeding to do the same to his right hand, when he suddenly withdrew his hand from the cuff and trapped Reuben's instead, pulling him in front of him as a human shield should any of the agents attempt to open fire, as he wriggled his cuffed hand against his back in a firm hold.

     " It doesn't have to go like this Sunday, you can't fight the agency, let him go, let us take you quietly, and no one gets hurt, " the team leader suggested again.

        He had both his hands trapped, restrained like any enemy would, and leaning closer, he whispered.

     " This might hurt a little "

        In less than a second Reuben felt himself being thrown at his colleagues, staggering for a balance he didn't get no matter how hard he tried, he landed on the ground, as did the two other agents he was thrown at, the others opened fire, but Sunday jumped out of the way just in time, using the bed as a shield from the bullets that dug into the walls, the glass on the windows, and everything that stood in between him and his captors, they moved in on where he had hid himself, peering from a safe distance, when he pulled out from under the other end of the bed, delivering a knock out punch to the one closest to him, and a calculated kick that made the other agent spin as it landed on his face.

         While he dealt with the agents, Alice hid by the control switch, she had turned off the lights earlier on, even though a part of her trembled with fear, she wanted to do more than sit and shiver, her desire to be of some assistance finally over came the paralysing voice of uncertainty, she turned the lights on again and headed for the corridor, minding her footsteps. As she approached the room, she couldn't help the unsettling feeling that trailed behind her, she could sense she wasn't alone, it made her skin crawl, it wasn't the gunfire, or the creepy silence, but as though someone was watching her, she suddenly stopped, turned her head back, and spied over her shoulders, trying to capture every corner in sight, there wasn't anyone there, she looked again, still not satisfied, but allowed the suspicion be buried under the excuse of brewing paranoia, in order words, the events of the past days, her trauma, were taking its toll, brushing away that thought she proceeded, and just when she thought it couldn't be real, strong hands grabbed her from behind, holding her hands against her sides and sealing off her cries for help.

        The room was perfect for him to navigate, they were on his turf, and he more than used that to his advantage, having disarmed and wounded the lot of both teams, he stood against the team leader and Reuben, they had their rifles in delicate aim, while he held his blackk 9mm revolver, a weapon he had previously used to strike a few of the men in places that would make then squeal, his face oozed with composure and sweat dropped off his forehead.

       " You're not going to win this, no matter how long you fight, we know what you did, you're nothing but a selfish pig, I have my orders, otherwise you'd be dead already " the team leader said.

         The curses and accusations weren't unexpected, if anything, that confirmed his theory of there being a traitor in CSS, one who would stop at nothing to frame him.

       " You've never been a big fan, have you Paul ? I know you think I killed those agents, but I didn't, they tried to kill me, there's a traitor in CSS, I didn't do this, you know I didn't ", Sunday continued.

     " All I know is that you're a coward, and you're going to get what you deserve ... on your knees, or I will blast you sky high, I don't care what anyone else thinks. "

        If Sunday found Paul's reactions surprising, what happened next completely took him off guard, sounds of shattering plates, followed by Alice's piercing screams, and desperate cry for help, it drifted Paul's attention from Sunday, and that was as good a distraction as any, all the avenue he needed, swiftly, like a heart attack, he jumped at Paul, grabbing him by the ribs as he pushed him back, forcing his body against the wall, so hard it ruined the wall paper, then with his hand still in full grip of Paul's body, he pushed him at Reuben, and ran out to help Alice, exiting the room either of them could get a clear shot at him.

      Coming out of the room, he could already see traces of her struggles with whoever it was that had taken her, he had pulled her through the living room, evident from the table cloth that was left barely hanging from the table, she had tried to grab onto it while he pulled her away, without hesitation, he followed the trail of broken down plates in the kitchen, that led to an open back door, and from where he stood he could see her being dragged away, despite the distance between them and the dull lights cast by the cresent moon, he could see Alice kicking against the man that pulled her away, despite being detained by someone almost twice her size, she didn't stop fighting, trying to get away from him.

      They weren't very far, if he ran, he would catch them, but not if they took her away in a car, on seeing the black van as it grounded to a halt few metres away from them, Sunday already knew their intentions, it wasn't a one man's game, there wasn't anytime to lose, he reached for his revolver, intending to fire at the kidnapper, he had had years of training and was better than most assassins, the problem wasn't his aim, on an average day, he could shoot and not miss, but considering the way Alice struggled with the man that grabbed her, anything could happen, she might just get caught in his line of his fire, and end up with a terrible bullet wound, or worse.

        Seeing as the first option was out of the question, Sunday took to his heels, running after them, only few meters away, with just a little more push, and he would give the kidnappers the beating of a lifetime, he had promised Mark he wouldn't let anything happen to Alice, aside that, he had promised himself that he wouldn't let anything happen to anyone he was responsible for, never again, he wouldn't take his eyes off her, he would save her, nothing else mattered, he wouldn't fail again, there wasn't any reason why he should, he didn't see them as a match, but he didn't see the car that came from his side as well, not until the blinding headlights burned in his face, and then the impact, he felt himself being pulled away from Alice, it was immediate, sudden, the cold breeze stole the air out of his lungs, he hadn't expected that, he was flying in mid air, with nothing holding him back, and then he was falling, fast, the ground was hard, unforgiving, as though it was seeking revenge for all those years it had been walked on, something snapped, something tore, and there was blood, then a ring in his ears, as if a bomb had been detonated only a metre away from him, he couldn't hear anything else, he could see her screaming as they took her away, he could feel his entire body shaking, the driver of the van had come down and both men were forcing her inside the van, she couldn't fight them both, and eventually they pushed her inside the vehicle, and slammed the door shut, he couldn't do a thing, his head was spinning, he still couldn't hear anything, and on top of that his vision had slowly began to weaken, he couldn't make out the face of the figure that stood in front of him, but the way he held a gun right at him spoke volumes of his intentions, if this was the end for him, he wasn't ready, in fact he was far from it, there was still a lot left to do, promises he had to fulfill, he wasn't ready to die, not now, but even that wasn't his choice to make, and everything went dark as soon as the tail of the gun struck his head. 

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