PROJECT SPARTA

CHAPTER 45

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Seamus had just flanked the first man to enter the exhibit. He spun silently around the marble pillar and positioned himself at the back side of his opponent. His left hand came up to the topside of the gun as he pulled the trigger. The bullet shot through the man's neck and snapped his brain stem. Seamus's left hand caught the bullet casing that was discharged upon the shot and he lunged at the man, catching him before he collapsed. The takedown was clean and silent. He dragged him over into the corner and took his radio comm. Plugging the bud in his ear, he was able to hear the terrorist's communication.

"Jericho, come in, Jericho, come in," upon hearing this Seamus looked over the man collapsed in a puddle of blood in the corner.

And you must be Jericho...

"Miller, check it out... to the East." Seamus cracked a smile, knowing he now had the upper hand. They were feeding him men one by one, his plan was working. He had to use the size of the Gallery to his advantage and he had done so. The only problem was that in an Art Gallery there were not many structures to provide cover. Most rooms were large expanses of hardwood floor to allow for the better flow of traffic as tourists looked from picture to picture. He decided to meet the Miller halfway in the East Sculpture Hall that offered many display pillars as cover.

Seamus moved quickly and knew he was invisible as the communications had just rattled off a position update. He crouched behind the largest sculpture he could find. After a few moments of focused listening, he was able to hear slow, cautious steps approaching. The suited man's focus remained down the hall where Jericho had last reported his location, so when he passed by the sculptures he didn't check behind their marble bases. Seamus awaited for the man to distance himself. A couple of slow steps passed him before he rose to his feet.

In one quick motion Seamus grabbed both sides of the Skeptic's head and jerked in either direction with such force, a vertebra jutted out from his skin from the fracture point of his snapped neck. His legs collapsed. Lifeless, his blank stare gazed over his shoulder toward Seamus's footsteps as he proceeded down the corridor toward his next prey.

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Mac was getting pummeled by the man twice his size. He had taken off his glasses and his suit coat revealing a holster vest with concealed weapons and grenades strapped across his chest. The suited man cracked his fingers and his neck and approached Mac for round two of their match. Mac received a couple of rib crunching blows – his breath violently ripped from his lungs. He heaved over defenseless. His vision remained blurry as he tried to focus on the ground before him. Then it was cut by a black blur coming up hard into his face. The impact knocked him unconscious for a brief second. Mac could feel his brain rattle in his skull. The man had struck him with an upper knee blow sending him to his back.

Mac's world spun in a haze.

The suited man picked him up and pushed him against a display rocket in the gallery. Releasing him to his wobbly stance, the Skeptic started striking him as if he had him cornered in the ring. Fist after fist, knee after knee pummeled into him as if he was a flimsy punching bag when hit hard. Mac had no chance, the man was about to end his life. Mac's vision slowly focused on something within arm's reach – the grenades attached to his chest.

With all the might Mac had left, he snatched a pin from one of the grenades. He sent a hard side-kick into his gut, pushing the man past his heels and back multiple steps. The man focused solely on getting the grenade out of the strap. Mac swung around the rocket and crouched with his head between his knees for cover. The man's hands fumbled and fidgeted until it was too late.

The grenade blew.

Mac could feel the blast come over him but with the cover of the metal rocket, he avoided injury from debris. The boom sounded out in the Air and Space Museum and mixed with the sounds of commotion and fireworks over the lawn. As the dust settled, Mac found a deep breath and with a sigh of relief, flung his head back against the rocket, which rang out an echoing hollow ring. A smile crept on his face and he started laughing out loud in the gallery.

"That's right!" he taunted over his huffing breaths.

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Jooles spotted one grey head after another, yielding no match. She went to the bar, knowing Hardy's habit, but he was not there. She surveyed the faces of the crowd illuminated in different colors as they faced the skyline's fireworks display. Jooles soon started seeing people she had already scoped out.

Where is he?

"Ashton, come in. I can't find Hardy, give me an update on his position." But no answer came.

She retreated to the far end of the museum, hoping Hardy had sought a more private view point for the show. She came to a large empty patio section, where there was no sight of Hardy. Jooles cursed a stream of obscenities as she met another dead end.

"Where the hell are you, Ha –"At this, a violent fist connected with the back of her head. She fell dazed by the impact and saw a hand come over her.

"Keep your mouth shut and I won't blow you to bits." A hiss sounded into her ear, the hand showed her the trigger mechanism.

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Xander's eyes continued to comb through the crowd searching for Hardy or any sign of Agent Zero. Nothing.

If he isn't here, then where could he be?

And then it happened.

"Xander Whitt!"

A loud shrill sounded over the crowd.

Everyone's head turned from the firework display to see where the voice had come from. What they saw immediately induced a panic throughout the terrace. The frenzy ensued as people ran for the door, tripping over each other and trampling others. The voice was distant and familiar as if coming through a tunnel of memories. He couldn't place it, he couldn't concentrate as the mass hysteria ensued before him, head after head blocked the sight. Xander was lost in the scene, as it unfolded faster than his mind could process. He brought his gun up to aim through the crowd at who was on the other side. It was only when the mob of people had slowly thinned out that he was able to see. Fireworks exploded like a million light bulbs over his head as it dawned on him. There before him was Jooles held in the hostage grip of a familiar figure. The figure had disrobed its coat, revealing a stack of C4 strapped to its chest – detonator in hand.

"Oh, come on, don't act so surprised to see me!" the shrill voice sounded.

Xander's shock paralyzed his body, every variable of every possibility had been analyzed and he hadn't seen it from a mile away.

He was finally face to face with Agent Zero.

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