Liberty Vengeance: The White Dove

2

Nature had blessed me with very good orientation skills, but remembering which direction we were moving in this dark maze of corridors was unimaginable for me. We ran straight down the corridor, then turned left onto a stone spiral staircase. I immediately dropped the deagle and reloaded my snipe as I ran. We passed through a narrow gap in the wall and found ourselves on another staircase, this one made of metal, which I deduced meant we had reached some outbuilding I couldn't think of. Without stopping, we continued up the staircase, at the end of which we found ourselves in a long, dark and shadowy corridor, where armed soldiers of Herr Supreme crossed our path. My unknown rescuer did not slacken for a moment; he took a Glock from behind his belt, supported it with his other hand, and with graceful shots drilled through the bodies of our adversaries. I didn't hesitate either, Chrisanten's hands burning with excitement. Shots echoed dully down the corridor, soldiers falling to the ground in convulsions. Just then, something scratched me from behind. My eyes darkened in front of me, making it completely impossible to see in the darkened space. I turned sharply and fired behind me without aiming. My hands shook, my body beginning to recover from the shock it had experienced. We managed to eliminate the opponents in front of us, but about eight more appeared behind us. How pathetic, attacking us from behind, I thought, but I knew I should have counted on it.

"Fuck them," Anonymous echoed from behind me, "we're not far away."

I turned and looked into his white plastic face, which almost glowed in the dark hallway. He backed up slowly, sliding the Glock into the pocket of his gray sweatshirt. I really don't know why I trusted him. But in my current state - scratched and angry with myself - I had no choice. I threw Chrisanten on my back and ran along the wall behind him, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. The stabbing pain in my shoulder didn't allow me to run adequately, and in my black clothes and silent steps I could have easily blended in against the dark stone wall. Anonymous was backing at a fast pace through the direct center of the hallway, glancingly shooting at enemies, though he didn't have very accurate aim. But the dexterity with which he dodged his opponents' shots was admirable. Bullets flew down the corridor in a dense swarm, but not one hit him. At that moment he was out of my sight. On my left, about three yards in front of me, was a narrow crevice, where he dropped in so nimbly that our adversaries had no chance of intercepting him. The crevice led to another stone staircase to the basement, where there was a huge warehouse. Shelves were filled to the ceiling with weapons, explosives, canned food, and the like. I couldn't stay idle like this much longer. The presence of so much explosives excited me, my gaze brightened, the sharp pain suddenly felt like pleasure. The smell of gunpowder gave me a fighting spirit. My co-worker may have disappeared from my sight, but I knew exactly what to do. I briskly turned into the nearest aisle, where there were assorted medicines and medical aids. I grabbed some thick gauze on the fly, wrapping it around the wound to create pressure. My arm started to turn purple, but I paid no attention to it because it was a good sign that I wasn't going to bleed any further. Military commands came from my left side. The echoes of their running echoed through the vast space. They were closing in. I quickly threw myself to the floor and ducked under a shelf. Thanks to my compactness, I fit just right and still had enough room to charge the snipe. The surprised soldiers fell to the ground with shot knees, unable to make any movement. When I emptied the last bullet from the clip, I shuffled to the other side of the racks and slipped out. Curses and commands from the walkie-talkies echoed through the room. But there was a stomp resonating through them that belonged to no adversary. I ran after him. In his arms he clutched a detonator, incendiary cord, bullets, and a makeshift lighter.

"Let's drop some bullets in your backpack." He nodded his head towards my backpack. I defended myself. "Sure, what if you just want to get rid of me efficiently?" He rolled his eyes and unzipped my backpack. "I'd have your back the whole time, only to hurt you later." "What if you just wanted to help me out and then ditch me?" He took the remaining Chrisanten rounds out of my backpack and handed me another box he'd stolen. He put his haul inside, zipped up the bag, and threw it on his back. "Just so you believe me, I'm going to play assassin," he waved a hand at me to follow him as he ran down the hallway.