Write to Rank 2022 [Genre - ACTION]

9. The Finale

Prompt: Write an action short story, no less than 5K words, no more than 10k. 

Setting: Focus on World and Scene building. 

Use: A clear protagonist and antagonist.

A plot twist.

Required Word Count: 5,000 - 10,000

Jacob stood at the terminal window, looking out and up into the cloudy night sky, straining his eyes as they searched for the tiny dot of light that should be appearing any moment now... a tiny dot of light that would grow brighter and bigger through the pouring rain and thunder as it approached, bringing to him everything he had been working towards. It was no easy task to save the human race, and now the culmination of years of planning and preparing was at hand–and now everything came down to this moment.

To the landing of a single plane.

"It's almost time," Han said suddenly, startling Jacob and making him turn from the rain pattering on the glass. After all these years, Jacob had never get used to how quietly the man moved–Han always seemed to silently appear out of nowhere, like a ghost. 

Jacob nodded, turning back to the darkened window and his own cragged reflection.

The tiny dot of light was there.

***

Michael ducked.

The man's fist flew over Michael's head. Michael easily grabbed the man's outstretched arm, yanking it down as hard as he could as he drove his knee up. The man's face smashed into Michael's knee, blood violently exploding in a mist-like spray. Michael kicked forward, his foot driving into the man's gut and launching him backwards across the storage galley.

The man landed flat on his back, motionless, his arms spread wide as blood slowly soaked into his torn Air Marshal uniform, his service pistol revealed under his open jacket.

Jackpot, Michael thought.

A second man burst into the cargo area, reaching under his Air Marshal jacket for his gun. Michael dove towards the body on the floor–everything seemed to slow down as Michael watched his own arms reaching out for the service pistol, his fingers stretching out impossibly slow as he seemed to hang helplessly, suspended in the air. Somewhere in the far distance of his mind, Michael could hear the thunder from the storm outside the plane, loud and cracking.

After what felt like an eternity, his fingertips finally grazed the pistol grip.

Time suddenly rocketed forward–the gun was already free from the holster and in Michael's hand as he landed on the other side of the body on the floor, the barrel aimed directly at the second man in an Air Marshal uniform.

He started pulling the trigger.

You're not going to stop me, Michael thought. I'm getting what's on this plane.

***

"Sir?"

Jacob was still watching the dot of light through the dark rainfall–except the dot wasn't much of a dot anymore. Now Jacob could see the individual green and red navigation lights blinking on each wing tip, along with the white flashing strobe. He didn't want to imagine the horror happening on that plane; Jacob knew exactly who was on it, and exactly what that individual was capable of.