SPIES AND LIES - BWS

eight.

Olivia was crouched next to Brad, letting him rest for a few minutes before the two of them made their way to the cabin. The British agent had already lost a lot of blood, and needed urgent care. As soon as he was capable of standing up again, Liv helped him get on his feet, and they started walking, relying on her memory and sense of direction to find the cabin. What should have been a mere ten minute walk took them over twenty, Brad stumbling on everything, barely able to hold his weight up, and Olivia trying her best to keep him standing while managing her broken ankle. When they finally arrived at the cabin, Liv helped Brad sit on the front steps while she left to examine the windows. It was the middle of the night and she could barely see anything, but the faint light coming from the full moon above them helped her determine the cabin was uninhabited. She doubted the front door would be open, but still gave it a try. Seeing that the door was locked, she looked around trying to find a key. She recognized the cabin as a hunter shelter, and knew the key must have been hidden somewhere. The Russian woods were scattered with cabins for hunters to find shelter in. After looking everywhere for a key, Olivia finally gave up on the idea and kicked the knob on the rotten wood door, and it opened without resistance. She helped Brad get inside and sat him on the twin bed before looking around her. The cabin was dusty but pretty tidy considering it was used by Russian hunters. A single twin bed on which Brad was now lying on took the majority of the room, a tiny sink, fireplace and table making up the rest of it. Everything was covered in a thin layer of dust, spider webs decorating every corner of the room.

- 5-star hotel just for us, Olivia said as she looked for anything that could help her get the bullet out of Brad's shoulder in the cupboards above the sink. Don't get any ideas though, she continued, closing one cupboard door and opening another, moving the few cans in there. Simpson? she then said, turning around towards the bed, surprised Brad had not thrown a line back at her yet.

As soon as her eyes fell on Brad, she noticed his eyes were closed and her heart stopped for a second. She remember her former partner Lucy, who died on her watch. She wasn't going to let that happen to Brad. She immediately stopped looking through the cupboards and came to his side, kneeling on the floor next to the bed. She noticed the pearls of sweats on his forehead, and how faint his breathing was.

- I swear to God I'm gonna kill you if you die on me Simpson! she said as she shook him, trying to get him to wake up.

- That would defeat the purpose, wouldn't it? Brad eventually said very faintly in a cough, after what felt like hours to Olivia.

A wave of relief hit the girl, who was finally able to breathe again.

- Fuck you, she said, punching him in the arm, making him growl in pain. I thought you were dead.

- You wish, he answered as he tried to sit himself up, using the little energy he had left in him.

The girl helped him before turning her attention back to the cupboards where she eventually found a half empty bottle of whisky and a knife.

- Drink this, she said to Brad as she handed him the bottle. Trust me you don't want to feel what I'm about to do.

On those words, she left the cabin to find some twigs and logs to start a fire. Despite the fact that they were both frozen to the bone and could really use some flames to warm up, she also needed to sterilize the knife before inserting it into Brad's flesh, and a fire would do the job just fine. She didn't have any alternative anyways. Once back inside, she started the fire using a match she found in a drawer, and waited until it was hot enough before holding the knife's blade above it, quickly turning it red.

- You ready? she asked before Brad took another sip of the bitter liquid and nodded.

She grabbed the bottle from his hands and helped him get rid of his vest, sweater and shirt, carefully and gently passing them over his head making him close his eyes shut, groaning at the pain. She stared at him for a second, his face distorted by pain, not able to open his eyes anymore as he barely balanced himself sitting on the bed. And for the second time since they met, she found herself admiring his features. Even in agony he was looking hot, and that wasn't because of his fever. When she noticed she was started to think about him in a sexual way again, Olivia quickly pulled herself together. She needed to be focused for what she was about to do to him. And it wasn't going to be fun times for either of them. Before she started, she got rid of her own vest, sweater and shirt before rolling her white short sleeved shirt into a sausage shape.