Brooks kicked at the entrance to the cargo of the plane, to no avail. He could hear the others running behind him, coming after him, and was panicked by the entrance, not moving. He kicked at it harder and harder, even taking several steps back to ensure a run-up. It didn't open, and the others rounded the corner. They each grabbed him by the arms and dragged him kicking and screaming to the cockpit of the plane. They landed him down on his seat, the co-pilot seat. Staines turned to face him.
"Flick the switch, Brooks, do it now," Brooks refused, shaking his head. The others who had brought him here grabbed his arm, forced his head close to the control board.
"I said, FLICK THE SWITCH," Staines thundered.
The men moved Brooks' hand to flick the switch and Brooks sat up, sweating profusely. His chest heaving, he looked at his surroundings. It was the same nightmare he had been having since the beginning of The Drop. He looked at his watch; he was late; he wanted to be on his way before sunrise. The Guardians wouldn't be far behind him after he had had the close call in Ellington. He couldn't give them a chance to catch him, as he knew what they would do. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. The image of the silver embroidered 001 flashed in his head, and Brooks shot his eyes open again.
YOU ARE READING
The Cleaner
Mystery / ThrillerIn a desolate world devastated by a chemical bombing, only a select few endure as chosen survivors. The government, their twisted Machiavellian control tightening its grip, employs a unique operative to ensure that those who are supposed to be dead...
