The Soldiers

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Nick Sievers' POV

As Jay stepped out of the helicopter, I clapped him on the back. "Good to see you."

He nodded. "Yeah. And looking as dashingly handsome as ever?"

I hesitated. A bloodstained bandage was wrapped around his right arm. His entire gait was slightly off, trying to compensate for the deadweight.

"Aw, come on," Jay said. "Is it that bad?"

"Well," I responded, "let's just say that you better be glad I'm not a mirror right now. If so, I would be laughing."

"Jeez," Jay said. "Awfully harsh."

We fell into an awkward silence and stood there grinning nervously like idiots. Finally, Brook cleared her throat. "We've got fifteen minutes until midnight. Let's get going."

Time Skip

I uncomfortably shifted the AK-47 slung over my shoulder. I was more of a knife or handgun person, but I guess this would have to do. Killing was killing, no matter the weapon.

I poked my head around the corner of the building, but quickly pulled it back, pressing my body against the damp concrete wall. Shoot. Had they seen me?

I waited in silence for several seconds, listening for padded footsteps or the safety lock of a gun coming undone. But there was nothing. I exhaled silently.

"Two guards," I whispered.

Anderson shrugged. "I'll just show them my badge." She brushed past me and moved as to round the corner.

"No!" I hissed, grabbing her arm. Anderson whirled back around to face me and yanked her arm away. She looked at me as if I was some disgusting creature that had just touched her.

"What?" she asked, probably a little louder than she should.

"Sure, this is a military base, but what if those people aren't soldiers? What if they're terrorists?"

Anderson paused, then peeled around the building. She turned back to me and shrugged. "They're wearing military uniforms."

Before I could stop the idiot of an FBI Director, Anderson had turned the corner. Sighing heavily, I clenched my fists. God.

I could hear guns click, but Anderson's voice rang out. "Don't shoot. FBI."

There was a tense silence. I could only imagine what was going on. "Why'd you come here?" a voice shot back.

"We came to apprehend a terrorist."

"We?" someone questioned.

Dang it, Anderson. I winced and shook my head. This was the best the FBI could do?

Well, there was no point in hiding now. I loaded my gun and aimed it forward as I stepped out of the shadows.

The soldiers shifted on their feet to point their weapons at me. I nodded. "Hey."

"You say there's an unlicensed man in there?"

Anderson nodded. "Yes. And we need clearance to capture him."

The man she was talking to hesitated, then conceded. "Come with me."

She moved to follow him, but I stayed still. Anderson glanced back at me, then rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on you big baby. We've got ten minutes."

My eyes darted from soldier to soldier. Something was off. The men shifted their guns uncomfortably in their arms. Some of the uniforms seemed slightly baggy, and others too tight.

The man who had talked to Anderson cocked his head and looked at me. "You okay?"

A terrorist. Anderson had told the man a terrorist was in the building. But the man had said there was an unlicensed man. How would he have known unless-

"Sievers...." Anderson warned.

These people weren't soldiers at all. No. They were terrorists.

Something moved in my peripheral vision. A gun, raising to fire.

But not at me.

At Anderson.

I leapt toward the FBI Director just as the gun fired.

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