Project Frostbite

Chapter 9

It was 8:28pm. Dmitri's red Ford Mondeo Titanium was parked on the deserted Nicholl's Wharf, and I was stuck in a coffin like case, which Firestorm had stuffed into the back. The only light I had in the dark space was the glow of my watch. I was counting down the seconds. Dmitri said they come at exactly 8:30pm every time.

The Potentials were sedated (that was the part we were skipping), and handed over to the two "handlers", who loaded them into a GMC Savana Cargo Van and drove off to some unknown location. The side to this routine was that Dmitri kept the coffin, therefore I would be unloaded. As soon as I was tied up in the van, Firestorm would jump in and we would hitch a ride to the base.

8:29pm.

Stick to the plan. You'll be fine. I told myself. Firestorm's not going to ditch you. She needs the rest of the money. We waited in silence.

8:30pm.

Go time. As soon as the clock changed, I heard the quiet rumble of a van pulling up. Holding my breath, I heard two doors slam shut, and two manly voices. I heard Firestorm's low voice welcoming them. I froze when I heard one of the men cry out, and something thudded against the car, rocking it a little. Then silence.

"F-Firestorm?" I called, hearing my voice echo around the coffin. How are people supposed to rest in peace in these things? People can dress it up all they want, it doesn't change how uncomfortable it is. "Firestorm? Is everything alright?" Suddenly the lid lifted up and I squinted.

"Wakey wakey Sleeping Beauty." Firestorm greeted. I sat up.

"What happened to the plan?" I asked as I got out. Firestorm shrugged.

"They didn't follow the script. I was forced to improvise." She answered, and I shook my head. I followed her to the silver van, and we both hopped into the front.

"How do we get there now? We have no way of knowing where to go." I said, and Firestorm smirked, before clicking on the small screen above the radio. It lit up and she hit the GPS, fiddling with a bunch of settings before she secured a route. "How did you do that?" I asked.

"Hacked into the history settings and found the most recent route used." Firestorm answered as she started the van. "We backtrack along that, and we get to base." Smart. Firestorm put the van into gear and backed around, before pulling out of the wharf.

"Do I even want to know where you hid the two guys?" I asked. Firestorm smirked. "Didn't think so. Wait, do you have your driver's license?"

"No. Assassins like me can't have anything that can be traced back to me or the company who hired me." Firestorm answered.

"What if we get pulled over by a cop?" I asked worriedly.

"Well, shit." Firestorm answered with a grin. On seeing my face, she sighed. "Tryston, there are over 9.1 million people living in New York. We have a 0.001% chance of getting pulled over." I could tell she was trying to reassure me, and tried to stay calm. I relaxed into the seat, looking out of the window as we entered the city.

"How did you know you wouldn't fire that bullet at Dmitri's, uh, parts?" I asked.

"I didn't." Firestorm answered. When I didn't answer she chuckled. "I never had any bullets in there Tryston. I took them all out." She tapped the side of her nose, and I half-smiled in relief, before it faded.

"Do you think he regrets it?" I asked, looking sideways at her. Firestorm shook her head.

"I doubt it. I've worked with Dmitri, and he's not afraid to sacrifice someone to get the job done." She growled.