Takeover || (Completed)

Death

Luke walked out of the palace and went to where Niki had been when he had left her. Obviously, she wasn't there. He had to find her before she left France. Otherwise, there would be no hope of finding her. He phoned Caryna. She picked up immediately.

"Hey, Caryna," said Luke, "I need you to trace the recent post on my blog."

"I don't know how to," replied Caryna, laughing.

"Well find someone who does," said Luke angrily as he hung up the phone and put it in his pocket. He walked back into the palace; there was no point in staying outside. He dumped his weapons on the bed and went to eat something in the heart of Versailles. Like always, he got a fast-food meal. Luke went back to the palace and watched Netflix for a while as he waited for someone to trace the origins of the post. Suddenly, his phone rang. It was from Chris Hirata.

"Good news?" asked Luke.

"Yes. The post originated from a cell phone not far from the palace. The phone and whoever is using it is now in Paris." Chris seemed proud of what he had done.

"Thanks, Chris," said Luke as he pressed the End Call button. He asked Chris to keep him informed of the whereabouts of the cell phone as he travelled to Paris. Before leaving, he packed a few things in his ruc-sac. First and most importantly was the Glock 17, which Luke had brought two of and spare magazines. He also had a Barrett M82 which would be used if Niki got too far away to be hit with a Glock.

Once ready, Luke got into his car and began driving to Paris, a journey which took less than 30 minutes. Once he got there, he called Chris again. Chris was the first one to talk.

"I'm sending you co-ordinates and a location on Google Maps."

Luke hung up and he got a notification on Whatsapp. It was an apartment in the South of Paris. He quickly drove there, his foot glued to the accelerator. Once he got to his destination, he stashed all his equipment from the boot into his ruc-sac or shoulder-holster and went inside. It was nice enough, though you wouldn't see many upper-class people there. The paint was peeling off the walls, revealing the ugly grey concrete behind. The ceiling lamps were dim and gave off less light than his smartphone, which made him feel like the protagonist in a cheap horror movie. He looked for the stairs. They were to his right. He went up all flights of stairs until he reached the fifth floor and went to the apartment furthest from the stairs. He knocked on the door politely. There were footsteps on the other side. The door opened and Niki stepped out.

"Ten-second headstart?" asked Niki mockingly.

"Whatever," replied Luke as Niki began to speed off. He counted to five and then chased after her.

She was already across the street by the time Luke got down to the bottom floor. Luke thought it best to take out his Glock around this time and aimed it at Niki. Before he could pull the trigger, however, Niki had gone into another apartment and Luke was forced to chase after her again. He sprinted across the street, blatantly ignoring all of the drivers' wishes, and ran into the apartment building. He quickly found the stairs and went up them, looking for Niki on each floor. Nothing. He slowly progressed to the fourth floor, which was when he saw an open window at the end of the corridor. Niki must have gone out. He ran to the window and looked for Niki. She was running across the roof of a warehouse one floor shorter than the apartment Luke was in. He was about to pull out his sniper and kill her but decided to chase her and not just give her an easy death. He jumped out of the window and rolled when on the roof, his ears ringing from the loud noise produced from his impact with the corrugated iron roof. He saw that Niki was about to jump to the ground, which would make it a three-storey jump. If he were to do something, he would do it now. He pulled it out and, with one swift motion, aimed and pulled the trigger. The bullet clipped Niki's leg, only penetrating the skin. Damnit, thought Luke, as he put the Glock back in its holster and started running again. Niki had slowed down after Luke had shot her, but with still a considerable distance away from Luke. She had just jumped down from the top of the warehouse to the ground. Luke was at the edge of the warehouse just a few seconds later. He looked down to the ground, where there was nothing or no-one to be seen. Niki had already left his sights. Why the hell do I make this so difficult on myself? Thought Luke as he got ready to jump down three storeys. He didn't bother to have a running start; he only remembered to bend his knees and slacken his jaws on impact. He rolled to the side and hit a parallel building, every molecule in his body in pain. Luke struggled to get up, but he did after a few seconds of not being able to breathe. He had no idea how Niki had gone out of sight so quickly. He slowly got to his feet and began to run in a manner that would've made Monty Python proud. He left the alleyway and went into the street, where he immediately saw Niki running to his left in a similar manner. He wouldn't use his Glock there, the pavement was crowded with people walking in one of four directions and that would ruin his reputation more than it already had. He picked up speed, completely forgetting about the immense pain in his left leg, and began to run towards Niki. She didn't notice him until he was right next to her.

"Hey Niki," said Luke mockingly.

"If you're going to kill me," whispered Niki, leaning to speak into his ear, "do it in the alleyway."

Niki turned left into the next alleyway they walked past and gestured for Luke to follow her. Once no-one could see them, Niki handed him a silencer which she pulled out of her coat pocket. Luke, reluctantly, put the silencer on and aimed it at Niki's head. He, despite all his hatred of Niki at the moment, did not want to pull the trigger. However, he had to.

"Any last words?" asked Luke.

"Just do it you coward," spat Niki, her voice filled with rage.

Luke closed his eyes as he pulled the trigger. He then turned around and walked back to his car, taking a route which was different from the one he originally had taken. He felt no remorse. He had killed so many people in such a short amount of time that they had just merged into meaningless faces. He went back to his car and drove back to Versailles. Once he had gotten to Versailles, he made sure that he disposed of the guns and removed the fingerprints from them. Then he went up to his room and turned on the TV. He flicked through the channels until he saw one in which Boris Johnson was giving a speech in a large, flat space, which Luke was unable to identify.

"... ill not accept this," said Boris Johnson loudly and confidently, "the murder of thousands of men by the new French president will not be accepted. We will retaliate, we will do damage and we will make sure that he is stopped. Men like him should never be allowed to exist. Even if they do, they should never be trusted with such power. He is doing nothing but corrupting the human species and making us worse. People, friends, family, band together to help stop this!"

Johnson raised his hand in a closed fist as people applauded. Luke knew he was going to be antagonized from the beginning, but he never thought it would gain so much support. He had to do something about it. He called Jamie Nenra.

"Release the flare in Spain," said Luke coldly, his eyes fixed on the TV screen which continued to display people applauding Johnson like he was a guardian angel.

"Launch it in Barcelona, right?" asked Jamie.

"Yes. I don't care how you do it, just get it done," said Luke as he pressed the end call button on his phone and put it in his pocket. He was currently annoyed with himself for being so careless with his public image, however, he was surprised that there weren't more paparazzi trying to take pictures of him. Maybe there were, thought Luke as he continued to lie motionless on his bed, and I just didn't notice them. However, that wasn't a viable excuse. He would have to be a lot more wary, along with his acquaintances, in the future, especially as they entered Phase 2 of their plan. He tried to catch some sleep while he waited for Chris Hirata to call him about the release of the flare.

Luke was in a chair. It was almost fully made of metal except for the rubber armrests which Luke's arms were chained to. He looked at his wrists, which had been cuffed to the armrests. He did his best to wriggle them free but to no avail. He was trapped. Even worse for him was the fact that there was water all around him and was slowly rising up. If he didn't do something quickly he would drown. He continued to wriggle on the armrests despite the pain it caused his wrists but to no avail. The water continued to rise, to his knees, to his abdomen, to the bottom of his neck, to his lip and then it went over his face, but before it did Luke took a deep breath and continued to wriggle his hands. He suddenly felt something in his pocket. It was a small pocket knife. He couldn't reach it, however. He was going to drown, despite the pocket knife in his pocket. Ironic. Luke fell unconscious.

Luke woke up heavily. This time there was no sweat on his bed or shirt. He turned on his phone to see that he had twenty missed phone calls from Chris Hirata. He called Chris. Luke, after a few minutes of waiting, finally got a reply from Chris.

"Hey Luke," said Chris quietly, "the flare has been released into Spain."

"Good," replied Luke as he got a towel, getting ready for a shower, "now, Chris, can you send an email which says something like this: We will accept your unconditional surrender in return for the flare vaccine."

"Will do, Luke," said Chris Hirata, his voice, for the first time in a long time, steady. Luke hung up on the call and went to have a shower.