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The lesson is ingrained in her head.

It's a lesson, not an order because she's learned the consequences of it herself. She had slips of judgment, inabilities that faltered her obedience, and it always ended in pain and blood. Not by the soldier's hands, not really, but it's still consequences. The man with the long brown hair and dark blue eyes has hardly ever been wrong - sometimes, he's too right. That's usually when the doctors take him to get wiped.

"Podnyat naverkh," He instructs. His voice is muffled by the muzzle the agents put on him, but she's grown accustomed to the obstruction. He usually speaks English to her during practice, but never on missions. He puts his chin upward as a hint, and she follows his eyes to the balcony lining the inside of the building.

They're standing against the back wall of the building, and amongst the bustling and talking, not one person had looked over to the two figures in all black, holding guns against their chest. For a moment, she lets herself wonder if she's ever been that oblivious in her life. Her head stings with pain.

Soldat's eyes are on her, and she finally registers his instructions.

She nods, slipping past him and into a corridor. There's no one around her - sometimes, she wonders if she's the opposite of a magnet. People always seem to be absent from where she goes.

The stairs are dirty, caked with mud, and littered with debris. Soldat must have sent her up the service stairs to keep quiet, and it's surprising that she's yet to see one worker here. She wonders if other agents have already taken care of it. A shudder ripples through her shoulders. They never did it quickly, or cleanly. It was always messy when the agents did anything.

Pressing herself against the rails, she silently eases herself upwards, afraid she's going to find someone. She shouldn't be afraid - she's the one with the giant weapon in her hands and the ability for destruction. But still... The idea fills her with ice-cold fear.

She brushes the thought out of her mind. She does what she has to, she reminds herself. Soldat told her that, once. To always do what she has to in order to stay alive. It doesn't matter how much effort it takes just... stay alive. For now.

Soldat also told her to never let the barrel of the gunpoint at her toes, but that's exactly what she's doing now.

Adjusting her hold, she trudged up the stairs quicker now. If she's too late, Soldat might not apprehend the target and then they're both screwed.

𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙨  ➪ 𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘹𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘧𝘧 (2)Where stories live. Discover now