Do you ever get that feeling that something has gone horribly wrong? It shakes you like an earthquake but on the outside, it's like nothing ever happened. I went from calmly trying to suppress my inner range while serving alcohol to overpriced first-class passengers, to drawing a pistol when I stepped out onto the tarmac with Ashton right behind me.
Not even two hours ago I scammed a government out of two billion dollars and I didn't even have time to enjoy it.
The escape from Israel had gone well. Too well.
Dry wind whipped against my skin as I walked down the steps of the airplane with Ashton's confident figure behind me. I could feel the eight of the world on my shoulders if I thought about it hard enough. The heat of the sun beat down on me, not nearly as hot as it felt in military garb. I had nothing but the carry one the flight attendant still on the floor in Israel had once possessed and the gun between my legs.
My low black heals the tarmac after the rest of the crew, the two of us hanging back. My dark pupils locked on one of the open hanger bays less than a hundred yards from the edge of this section of the airport. Ashton stopped scanning the area when he spotted the same thing, nudging my shoulder blade with his arm subtly. With our heads on a swivel and purposeful, confident strides we departed from the rest of the crew. If we looked, sure enough, no one would stop us.
I kept my eyes glued to the target while jet engines sounded in my ears, echoing in my bloodstream and dulling my senses while heightening my adrenaline. If this was my first time I would feel like everyone's eyes were on me, but I knew, in reality, there was probably no one looking at us. As we rounded the inside of the metal hanger, the two of us let our bags lean against the inner corner of the doors, planing to abandon to scout the area. It was hard to kill someone if you had luggage in one hand.
There were three large white charter planes lined up inside with only the door furthest to the left open. A glance told me that no one was here which made it the perfect place to change clothes and hop a fence. My shoes padded softly against the concrete ground as I withdrew my gun from between my legs and unlocked the safety when my body leaned around the edge of the back of the plane. There was no one here at all. Perfect.
That's when I heard the bullet in-bed itself into the ribbed metal wall beside my head. I whipped around with my weapon ready, watching as Ashton did the same from in front of the second plane. Another gunshot came from the direction of where we first entered and I took off running the other way, Ashton doing the same. Heavy footsteps followed us on either side, echoing off the curved ceiling. I ducked around the back of the last plane, my gun cocked up near my face. Another silenced bullet dinged against the back of the metal plane as I turned around and cocked the weapon, firing a warning shot at the figure in black dress shoes behind the middle plane.
I turned back around with my spine pressed against the cool metal. To head changed directions to face Ashton doing the same near the nose. His bright blue eyes caught mine, speaking his intentions perfectly. Months with this man had prepared me for this. I understood the way he thought and him, me. With slightly parted lips I nodded at him before he mouthed a countdown from three, bullets pining against the expensive machinery behind us.
When I saw the word 'one' on his plump lips, I dropped to my knees and fired two shots, one in each leg of my attacker while Ashton did the same. Despite the obvious high training level of the assailants, human reflexes sometimes screamed louder than the logical mind. I saw a white hand reach down on instinct, clutching one of the two bullet wounds in their calves. I took my ruthless chance and fired another bullet into their hand, blood coating the floor of the already red hand.
I took my chance to charge the agent, my gun already trained on their head before they could even see me. There was no time for mercy. Mercy for you killed. The bullet embedded itself in the middle of the blonde's forehead, his body thumping against the ground and the gun clattering at the same time as the man near Ashton.
