Then I double check my vest to ensure my knives are intact.
A malevolent smile takes shape on my face. “Let’s give them a better show.”
Tyler snags his laptop and situates his Glock on the console. “Alright, every camera in and around the warehouse is tied into the same feedback loop. Best case? We’ve got about an hour before someone gets flagged or notices.”
His fingers fly over the keyboard, “The timer starts now.” He shuts his laptop, stashes it behind him in the backseat, and tosses the duffel bag over his shoulder.
Before he exits the car, my hand finds his wrist, needing the contact, “Meet you at the graveyard.” My heart races, clinging to the ritual we’ve built from the wreckage. It’s a small thing, but somewhere over the last two years, it became ours.
He smiles lightheartedly, “I’ll be there.”
The last thing we do is throw on our tactical glasses to shield our eyes from the rain.
As soon as our car doors open into the storm, rain lashes against us like needles.
Cold water immediately soaks through my hair and runs down the back of my neck. It should make me shiver but instead I feel nothing at all.
My focus locks on the warehouse behind the large steel gate.
Floodlights glow along the metal siding while thunder rumbles above.
Tyler motions toward the line of shipping containers. I shadow his steps, saying nothing.
Our boots splash through shallow puddles as we move between rusted metal corridors and stacks of abandoned crates. Every few seconds the sky bleaches the world white before throwing it back into darkness.
The mission sends a surge of filtered energy through my senses and the closer we get the calmer I become, morphing into the weapon I was forged into.
Tyler’s voice crackles through my earpiece.
“Guard on the east corner. Smoking.”
I break toward the container and plaster myself against its steel side.
Then he comes into my line of sight. He’s heavyset, wearing a black hoodie, and has a
rifle dangling lazily from its strap while he scrolls through his phone beneath an overhang near a small, abandoned building.
He’s completely unbothered as if this place is normal and the nightmare behind him isn’t real.
Rain drips from the brim of his hat while cigarette smoke curls into the storm.
Tyler materializes beside me soundlessly.
Three fingers lift between us.
Three seconds.
I give him a curt nod.
Tyler takes the long route around while I cut straight through the shadows.
The guard never notices me. Not until my hand hooks over his mouth, cutting off any sound as his body jerks violently. Theblade slides beneath his jaw, and hot blood sheets across my fingers.
A wet gurgle catches in his throat as I drag him backward into the darkness between the containers. His rifle slides from his shoulder and drops into the mud with a soft splash. The odor of blood, rain, and cigarettes. The man convulses hard once before the fight drains out of him. I let him go. His body folds into the puddles at my feet, dead in a watery grave.
Tyler is already dealing with the rifle, carrying it away and stashing it in one of the containers.
“One down.” He delivers the update like he’s reading off a checklist.
