Mission Gone Right

Down and Under

Ever since Owen had pulled the little spinning wheel knife stunt, Curt had been itching for revenge. Owen still rubbed it in his face when they saw each other, and his hair had only just grown out to normal. He had ended up having to get a buzzcut to even out where Owen had chopped off a fist full of his hair like a damn trophy. He was tempted to do the same to him, but Owen was even more obsessed with his hair than he was. He might literally mount his head on his wall if he did that, so he'd have to get his kicks another way.

He was ecstatic when he found out he and Owen would be busting an underground drug and exotic animal smuggling ring and saw his chance to enact his revenge. Cynthia had told him he probably wouldn't see Owen since he was handling the drugs and Curt himself was in charge of finding the animal cages and taking down anyone who got in his way. He always had a way with animals, and it had come in handy on more than one occasion. But he figured once he located the animals, it wouldn't hurt if he also tracked down Owen to, help him with his task.

Curt pressed himself against the side of the building, creeping closer to the door to knock out the guards. According to the mission briefing, Owen was supposed to already be inside the hanger where they were loading planes with cocaine and opioids. Curt had a sneaking suspicion they were either keeping the animals in either the warehouse or barn, or maybe even both depending on how many they had.

Curt snuck up on the two men and hit a pressure point on one guard's neck, sending him to the ground in instant slumber. The other one aimed his rifle at Curt, and he swiftly yanked it from his grasp and slammed the butt of the gun on his forehead, knocking him unconscious. He tied them up before dragging them to his truck and chucking them in the back. The agency would take them into custody and deal with them from there.

Inside the warehouse was dark and empty. Too empty... Something must've happened to draw their attention away from their posts because there's no reason a building this big would be so empty. He walked down a flight of stairs and found rows of cages and crates containing wild animals, the calls and snorts echoing through the metal building. He had his gun at the ready just in case he were to encounter someone else.

He passed by a cage he thought was empty, but erupted with manic laughter that scared the shit out of him. He pointed his gun, fully expecting to see a mad man ready to fight but was instead met with a hyena cackling in the corner. He walked throughout the building tallying all the animals and keeping track of what was where. He made his way towards the barn, and got a sick feeling when there weren't any guards their either. But it was in the middle of the night and it was a small operation, so he hoped they just didn't have many people on site.

He snuck in through a back door and just like the warehouse, the air was alive with the sounds of animals in distress. They paced their small cells, some just giving up completely and laying down. He was about to leave and call Cynthia on his watch and tell her where the animals were. She'd send in the animal control team to rescue and relocate them so they wouldn't have to live this shitty life anymore.

He was walking down the middle isle when a small lump caught his eye. At first he didn't pay it any mind but then it started moving and he gasped. A little joey started making its way towards him, and he looked over his shoulder to check no one was there before he knelt down and picked it up. It was small, definitely too small to be without its mom. And he knew enough about kangaroos to know that a baby this young shouldn't be out of a pouch. It tried to burrow closer to his body, and he felt his heart melt. He picked up a tote bag and let him crawl inside, slinging the strap over his shoulder and supporting the joey's weight with his arm. He still felt like something wasn't right and made his way to the hanger and snuck in.

It wasn't pretty. It looked like a massacre, blood and bodies strewn across the floor. Curt counted about 26. Looks like things got a little messy for Owen. Oh well, he'd rather he not be the one to get chewed out by his boss, but that still didn't tell him where Owen was. He heard a noise in the next room and ducked behind a small plane. A man walked out and grabbed a few things: rope, pliers, a whip, Curt knew what that meant. And he could bet he knew the British agent he planned to use it on.