killshot | simon riley ✓

• Chapter 9 •

„You want us to engage the fucking Mexican Army?" Soap exclaimed, confusion and anger making his accent thicker.

In other cases, she wouldpoke fun of his thicker accent, but right now, crouching in front of a window between Soap and Ghost, she reckoned it wasn't the right time.

„Sorry Ale, but you're not lovely enough to get my ass shot by the Mexican Army," Rora retorted, setting the barrel of her rifle against the window sill, ready to fire. She wasn't going to sit here and wait for them, no way. She was going to shoot her way out.

„Hold your fire. We'll dig in until my men are clear," Alejandro cleared, not that it soothed her nerves.

Watching as three or more armored vehicles rolled up, too many soldiers to count emerging from them, all of them ready to kill them.

„Multiple vehicles... Troop transports. Light armor," Ghost added, voice low as he looked through his scope for a better view.

„Is that supposed to be comforting?" she mumbled, her eyes not leaving the closest car, adrenaline flooding her veins, causing her finger to twitch on the trigger.

„Could be worse," he replied under his breath, which came as a surprise to her. Her eyes finally left the car to look his way, seeing the way he positioned himself, getting a clear view of anything under and in front of them, the balaclava and sunglasses disguising any emotion he could feel.

He looked like a statue, a very deadly one. Knowing that he was more than able to break all hell loose, and probably still gain the upper hand, amazed her.

„Hold fire. Let them get close," Alejandro warned, all of them tensing, getting ready to fire upon the unsuspecting Mexican Army.

They waited for them to get closer, each second causing her pulse to go up. The suspense was killing her, waiting out the enemy was never her forte. She liked jumping into fights, literally and figuratively. Guns blazing, grenade in hand, flipping knives through the air – that was her way.

Waiting made her fidgety and anxious.

That was until one of the soldiers spotted them and started to fire upon them, all of them returning the fire in a heartbeat. Rora was quick to take out the enemy, her aim deadly as she fired her rifle, hitting each of them, her eyes franticly scanning over the men that were running at the house.

„Oh, you got to be kidding me!" she yelled over the chaos, frustration booming in her chest. „They have fucking shields!"

„Bloody hell," Soap cursed next to her, shooting at the man with the shield, but it did little to no damage, only causing him to halter in his steps.

Acting out of muscle memory, her hand reached to one of the many grenades on her vest, pulling one off. The act didn't go unnoticed by the man beside her.

„Wells," Ghost warned, his eyes briefly glancing her way, quickly shooting down two more men that wanted to run up to them.

„You said no RPGs, you haven't said anything about grenades!" Rora shot back, pulling out the pin and she brought her arm far back, chucking the grenade out the window with enough force that alone impact would kill somebody.

With sniper, her aim was pretty off, never understood how to use one. But when it came to throwing knives or grenades, her aim was deadly and precise, never missing any target. That was how she managed to throw just behind the man with the shield, him not long after exploding, blood and limbs scattered around the hard ground.

It was such a gruesome scene, but somehow it still managed to make her happy. After all, her aim didn't get worse after those years.

The explosion caused some debris and dust to flood the room, all of them coughing, Rora's eyes watering as the dust managed to get into her eyes.