The Final Mission

A thunderous boom followed by a scream. The sound of a large entity slamming onto the floor mixes with the constant beating of my shoes against the floor.

"Tch. We've been had."

Metal walls fly past as I continue my dash through the facility. I should be hearing the shouts of my pursuers, but they choose to drown them out with their gunshots. I manage to turn the corner before tiny cylinders travelling 1200 kilometres per hour can make their way into the back of my black suit and into my spine.

I drop a small explosive behind me at the corner's blindspot while reaching a hand upward. My handgun is still fastened within my fingers as I press on the transmitter.

"This is C. Our moles appeared to have betrayed us. Approaching point alpha for extraction."

My report barely concludes before a pair of armed guards turn in on the corner ahead. With complete precision, my hand is in motion and metal twins pierces through the targets. I never even had the chance to see the pupils behind those goggles.

"Fatal, two."

An explosion from behind masks my callout. It's impossible to confirm the status of the men caught inside, but it shouldn't matter.

I may be trapped inside enemy territory with dozens of hostiles on all sides, but my mind is clear and my heart is steady. A mission going south is nothing out of the ordinary. Betrayal from our temporary allies or misinformation from our brokers are also well within reason. By this point, none of these inconveniences should prevent me from escaping the scene with my limbs attached.

The ringing through the facility subsides in time for the response in my ear.

"Bad idea, C. The path ahead is jammed and they're waiting for you."

A woman speaks into my ear with the same lack of sensitivity. Her flat tone provides me with all the intel I require.

"Head for point gamma instead. I'll have the van moved over in five."

"That will take too long. I'll find another way to the original extraction point."

I ignore whatever my spotter has left to say and focus on the oncoming footsteps. A series of schematics swing through my brain and offer me all of the hundreds of potential routes to my destination. Meanwhile, a click around my waist forecasts the flash that will assault the soldiers waiting around the corner. My eyes are unnecessary for the rest.

"GRAAH!"

Several deep voices roar with pain as their eyes burn briefly. That moment is all it takes for a series of shots to silence them for good. My body takes a measured right turn and leaves behind the stunned enemies coming from the opposite direction.

"Fatal, five."

The magazine of my gun falls to the ground and is soon replaced. The silence following the next clip's entry greets me alongside the optimal exit route. Taking into account a couple of detours, I should arrive at the extraction point within 60 seconds.

"Come in, C! Report!"

A previously brushed aside voice echoes in my ear with added volume. She may be a veteran as well, but she always insisted on a level of communication bordering on distracting.

"Approaching the extraction point as planned. What's the status ahead?"

I hear nothing from the woman on the other end. More than likely, she's clicking her tongue away from the mic like always. It isn't until after dropping a few more hostiles ahead that I hear the channel open once more. While her rough voice plays, my eyes rest at the dim streetlights visible through the window ahead.

"Twenty armed hostiles are heading up the stairs to meet you."

"At the stairs? That shouldn't be a problem."

I reach into my belt and extract a small circular container with a hook locked onto the end.

"Prepare for takeoff in ten."

Loud footsteps threaten to surround me on all sides. At this next fork, I'll be hit on both sides as well as behind me. The delay between them registering my form and pulling the trigger won't be long enough for me to break past.

"Give up! There's nowhere left to run!"

I'm afraid that I have to agree. If my feet insist on keeping to the ground, my body will experience death before I can spit a curse. Fortunately, I should be able to avoid this bad ending.

"There may be nowhere to run, but there is plenty of room to fall."

Metal scrapes metal when I hook the line to a nearby doorknob. A thin metal wire rings behind me as I dash forward into the oncoming onslaught. Instead of taking one of the two paths presented, I create a third.

"There he is—"

Their weapons are unprepared for the shattering of glass. The cold night air greets my sweat-covered skin as I'm thrown into freefall. One hand still holds tightly onto my gun while the other grips the wire sliding me down the wall. My rapid descent cuts short from the ground when my feet kick off from the wall.

In a single motion, I disconnect the reel whirring at my hip and position my body for impact with concrete. To be expected, pain runs through my arms and legs. However, my roll manages to at least keep everything functional as I sprint into the armoured van waiting only a few paces away.

My internal timer counts down to zero in the same moment that I dive into the back of the black vehicle. Without a second of delay, the gas pedal is floored by our driver.

"Extraction successful."

It might not be worth mentioning, but I perform the callout regardless. I move to shut the doors without even looking at the middle-aged woman sitting at her wall of monitors. The satisfying click is very quickly met with gunshots against our walls.

"We failed to eliminate the target. However, we have confirmed his location to be within the facility. I obtained access to their system as requested, so we must begin preparations to intercept his escort after—"

My gut rotates on the spot. Normally, I would be able to avoid the incoming danger identified by my instincts. I should never be caught by surprise while in hostile territory, but this shouldn't be hostile territory.

BANG

In my hesitation, I'm struck in the back of the head by what I can only assume was a bullet. My reaction speed managed to move my body ever so slightly away from a direct hit, but it wasn't enough. All of my strength is lost and I collapse onto the thick metal plating of the truck.

"W…W…Why…"

Only questions swirl through the last few flickers remaining in my brain. My eyes are greeted by the pooling of blood all around me. I'm unable to see the person responsible for this uncontrollable pain. Instead, I see the insignia of our organisation stained red. The engravings of that six-shot revolver do seem to pair well with splattered blood.

"Sorry, C. We were given orders from the higher ups to dispose of you at the end of this mission."

I can barely hear the words of the woman that has helped navigate me to success in countless infiltrations. I try to move my hands, but they refuse to respond to my wishes.

"You were always seen as too dangerous, too efficient. You alone could wipe out every agent we have. They finally decided that it was time to cut down on risks."

Blackness slowly closes in on the image of the revolver as a muffled click aims to finish the job.

"It was a pleasure, Agent Clark. This is nothing personal."

BANG