Shields

Chapter 2: Leaving

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to @tehcarrots for all of the hard work she put into this cover. Even though I didn't use it, I still love it and I really appreciate the work she put into it. Thanks for the cover! :D

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In your face, security freak. I grinned triumphantly. It was a bit childish, but I'd never really outgrown that inside.

A flicker of fear crossed his face and his smirk faded. He looked uncertain, his eyes flicking to the gun on the table. Good, let him be afraid. Maybe next time he won't be so loose with his security. Secret Service headquarters puts this place's security to shame. His expression hardened and he lunged for the gun and I moved to counter him, grabbing it before he got the chance. I lunged and crashed into him, slamming him up against a wall. He shoved me, and he had just enough strength to cause me to stumble back. In an instant, he grabbed the pistol out of my hand and stumbled back to his feet.

I froze, uncertain. I need to keep a better grip on my weapons. I thought, too late. My hair fell in my face again, but I didn't bother to brush it away. Any wrong move could end in my death. Anything would end in my death, unless something amazing happened.

Leveling it on me, he cocks it and pulls the trigger. The bullet slams into my left shoulder and fire shoots down my arm and through my entire body. I bit my lip hard to avoid screaming in pain and blood fills my mouth. Crap, crap, crap. It was pure agony for the first few seconds, but after a few moments, it just became excruciating pain instead as I adjusted to the pain.

It hurt to move my arm, but I made myself fight the pain and settle back into a fighting stance. Every movement was laced with fiery pain, but I just bit my lip harder and ignored it. I was going to be fighting my way out. I had to get through it without dying, and I was going to need both arms, so I would just have to work through the pain.

Before he could cock the gun again, I leapt at him, throwing him back against an end table. His head hit the corner, and he slumped over. Blood oozed out of the cut he received as a result.

If you ignored the blood, he looked like a drunkard who'd knocked himself out. Sort of.

Blood was pouring out of my shoulder too, so I took a moment to rip my t-shirt and wrap the white cloth around it to help stop the blood flow. The cloth quickly turned red, so I ripped off more and tightened the bandage, wincing every time I touched the wound. It would have to be stitched soon or I'd black out from blood loss.

I walked over to the door and pounded on it with my right hand. "Get me out of here!" I yelled, imitating the interrogator's nasally voice. "He's trying to kill me." I'd never been good at imitations, but the guard didn't seem to be able to tell the difference and most people in that job position didn't ask questions when you acted as though you were in charge.

"Of course, sir!" the guard said quickly.

He unlatched the door and pulled it open. His mouth opened in an O when he saw me.

"Surprise." I said, slamming my fist into his face and biting back a cry of pain.

He crumpled to the floor like a ragdoll. I winced a bit at the noise he made, but no one came running, so no one must have heard.

I turned and sprinted down the hall toward the nearest exit.

They'd brought me in with a hood over my head and walked me all over the place in an attempt to confuse me and make me think that their headquarters were bigger than they were. Unfortunately for them, I knew how to navigate without sight. Using noises, smells, the amount of time traveled, and the feel of the floor under my feet, I'd managed to create a map of the small place in my head temporarily. It helped that they'd passed their kitchen or dining room or whatever at least five times throughout the whole journey, tipping me off the their agenda.