CONDEMNATION ✓

Chapter 50

Holstering the gun, you tucked it shifting into your belt line. Running up a flight of stairs with a gun in your hand seemed like a recipe for disaster. Likely you'd trip and shoot yourself in the leg. Plus, the last thing you needed was some bystanders trying to be a hero and wrestle the gun from you in attempts to save the day. It wasn't you that they needed salvation from.

You took one last longing glance at the stairs before following the orders of the only member of the organization you had come to trust.

Level eight. A safe random number to haul ass to. You pushed your way into the stairwell and began to shove the scattered people out of your way as you moved against the current. You were shocked. The fact that you had to run up eight flights of stairs was bad enough, now you were going to have to fight and claw your way to the top.

One flight down, then two. There was no end to the bodies but the sounds of gunfire that recoiled through the stairwell that fueled your strength. You couldn't stop. You couldn't fight - without causing an all-out riot directed at you. You didn't have back up. All you could do was run.

As the climb became more strenuous, at least the people began to thin out. In your head, you imagine what it was they were meeting down on the bottom floor. The barrage of bullets that echoed through the high rise seemed constant as if it was death's personal ring tone. Finally, you saw the number written on the wall near the metal door and slammed yourself against it as you hurried to grab the cool silver handle and rip it open.

Your heels dug into the ground as you readied to rush inside but a large body blocked your path. You nearly slipped in your attempts to come to a halt, a look of surprise littered on your face while the man seemed just as shocked. Moment of silence as the two of you decided what to do.

You could see it in his green eyes. His blonde hair tussled and his suit a mess. He was debating to help 'save' you because he thought you were in danger - just like he was - or turn tail and try and save himself. You wanted him to choose the second option, you didn't want to kill him right now when you were trying so hard not to get murdered by the maniac downstairs. Let Jimin handle the pedestrians, isn't that what this assignment was about?

The man darted his eyes between you and the stairway you blocked, it took only a few seconds for him to decide that his own life was more important than a stranger. He wasn't wrong, you would have done the same thing. Chivalry was dead and you didn't need anyone to protect you anyway... well maybe right now you did but you were fresh out of volunteers.

You shifted to the side the best you could in the man's frantic attempt to escape, but in his terror, he still shoved you to the side. Rude-Ass. Maybe you should have killed him. Admittedly you finger itched for the gun at your waist ban but another barrage of bullets reminded you of the situation at hand.

Hurrying inside you slammed the stair escape door behind yourself. Your eyes lasered around, looking for something to possibly block the door with, at the very least if Jimin made it up to the floor may be the blocked door would make him lose interest fast. You spotted a dest in one of the many cubicles that littered that floor and quickly made your way over. You placed your hands along its rim and dug your feet into the carpet as you shoved it with as much strength as you could muster.

With much struggle and more than a little elbow grease, you managed to jimmy the door with the desk and heave a sigh of relief. The blocked door and sealed windowed floor you were on helped muffle the sounds of the gunshots and give you a moment to breathe, but only a moment.

You didn't waste to much time as you began to wonder about the floor. The place seemed barren and it looked as though you wouldn't need to deal with any more pedestrians first hand. Passing by the rows of cubicles and wasteland of desks and scattered paper, you wondered how many of these employees wouldn't be coming back to work. How many funerals would Stocgate be holding in the span of the next few weeks? Would the morgues overflow with the dead as if this were the next black plague?

This was quite the mess you managed to rope yourself into. This was the kinda thing that would get you caught. You managed to find a back-office and slipped into the wise open door. One of the higher-ups clearly enjoyed gardening a little too much as there was a verity of plants covering the desk, hanging from the windows and scattered in various places on the floor.

Clearly, the office belonged to a woman. You shut the door behind yourself for extra measure, hitting the lock on the knob before you began to stake out a seat that would keep you comfortable till Jungkook came to 'save you'. God, you hoped he was okay.

Part of you even wondered how Mono was doing, though it was more curiosity over concern. As you made your way behind the desk you took a seat in the overly expensive brown leather chair and tried to calm your nerves.

It was a waiting game now and you were impatient and perhaps still a bit frightened. You still couldn't understand how unfiltered insanity was useful to an organization with a purpose. Not that you really even knew what that purpose was.

R ordered hits on the wealthy, though none of the targets were ever robbed of anything more than information. So it wasn't the money. Your first solo assignment, the objectives was contents from his computer and his life. The information nothing more than a corrupt upperclassmen with zero morals. He was taking homes from the less fortunate but, why did R care about that?

Exposing him and killing him did nothing to change what was done or stop the plans from going into effect. The next in the company surely just took the business over and continued on as if nothing happened, so why?

None of it made sense, yet did you really want it to? Did it matter if you understood the point of his actions when you had no sense of loyalty to the organization or its objective?

Paycheck. You had to remind yourself this was a paycheck. Bide your time, rack up the bucks and get something on R that'll guarantee your separation from the organization that doesn't involve you gaining your freedom via a body bag.

You deflated in your chair, leaning back as you took in a few heavy breaths. You needed to shut your brain off just for a few seconds. You relaxed your hands at your side, your fingertips brushing the gun Jungkook had passed off to you. You breathed in timed breaths as you ignored the distance sounds of chaos and let the world fall apart around you.