One.

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The streets were bare, a soft wind whistling through the air, causing Anna's hair to stir. Her back faced the breeze, her boots making soft staccato sounds against the concrete sidewalk as she crept along, trying to keep herself as quiet as she possibly could.

Darkness shrouded her, making it a bit harder to walk. Yet, she found it was easier knowing that everyone who lived in the area had long ago retired to their beds. They slept soundly in their homes, unaware of the bloodbath that was about to occur right under their windows. Anna was glad for it. She didn't want to have to deal with wandering eyes that shouldn't have seen what they did.

An eerie fog was creeping in. With it came a chill that seeped into Anna's leather gear and settled there. Surely, if her hair on her skin could stand on end, it would. But the tight barrier held it down, even as the cold rocked through her body and she released a short breath. She tried picturing herself getting warm in an attempt to put mind over matter, but it didn't work. Her teeth were close to chattering when she arrived at the corner of the alley.

Anna let out another low breath, closing her eyes for a moment. She tried to push aside the cold and focus all her energy on the task at hand. Instinctively, her hand tightened around her gun. Slowly, she pulled back the safety.

Opening her eyes, she peeped around the corner, trying to see if she could spot anything, despite the already thick fog. It was futile. She could see nothing but white. But the moment she heard the sharp intake of breath, Anna knew that whoever it was in the alley had seen her. Her head whipped back around when she heard the soft stifled sound of the silencer and the accompanying bullet whizzing by her face. She fixed her handle on her gun.

Slowly, she counted to three. Her Mississippi seconds went by gradually but, once she reached the fated three, Anna leapt into the alley, brandishing her gun.

She was given no time to fire, however. Bullets came flying past her face, the whoosh of the heated metal alerting her to the fact that not only were they bad aims, but they were desperate, which just might be her disadvantage as well as her upper hand.

Anna rushed over to the dumpster on the other side of the alley and sunk low, pressing her back into the freezing, stink metal. The bullets pinged against her metal barrier but she waited, patiently, until the right moment presented itself. If she took a chance and went out now, she might succeed in getting a bullet through her arm. So, she counted the seconds, listened intently for the slowing down of the bullets. For a break in the recessive open fire.

And at last, her moment came.

They must have been wearing themselves out. Or maybe they were just curious as to whether her silence meant their frantic shooting had succeeded in killing her. Anna didn't know what exactly made them pause and she didn't stop to wonder. She sprang out from behind the dumpster and fired blindly into the fog. Someone exclaimed and she saw a body slump to the ground.

She gave herself roughly two and a half seconds to rush forward and grab the body before they started shooting again. They began at two. Anna ducked her head low, praying that no stray bullet would graze her. She rushed forward and grabbed the dead man's body off the ground, holding him up before her as a shield.

It was difficult holding him while she held on to her gun, but she managed to keep him upright as a shield long enough for her to safely fire off bullets of her own. Unlike these obviously untrained bodyguards however, she didn't have any stray bullets. Every shot she fired found home in warm flesh – the head, the heart, the leg, wherever she could find. They all cried out when they went down but she paid it no mind.

Unable to bear the weight of her bullet shield anymore, she tossed him aside and fired off three more rounds, killing the remaining bodyguards instantly. Their bodies slumped together on the ground, blood oozing out of their bullet wounds.

Espion | Book OneWhere stories live. Discover now