Undercover Badge; Next Generation

Chapter 45

"That gun isn't instinctual..."  Matthew had told me when I'd been drawn to this bag. I pulled open the zip and saw a flash or wood so dark it was almost black, and right at the base of the weapon's stock, I saw something engraved in the wood. "Ameliah."

I zipped it closed quickly and flipped the strap over my body so the bag hung against my back.

When I looked up, Baldy's face was obscured as mine was, but I could see from the corners of his eyes that he was smiling at me. "You stick to Mickey." He said simply, pointing to the man on my left. He twisted to offer me a wicked grin before pulling his own mask on. I'd have thought him really hot if I didn't know he was a mercenary for hire and the situation wasn't quite so weird. I offered an awkward smile before I realized he wouldn't see it and nodded my head in acknowledgement instead.

The van pulled to a stop.

"Alright, little Sparrow. You said you don't like the guns but before we go in you have to have yours drawn and in front of you at all times. Just try not to shoot one of us." Bauldy teased. "Walk with your head down and your knees bent and follow Mickey. Okay?" I nodded my head, the pipe braid swinging as it pulled free of the bandanna. My heart began to slam in my chest. When I next heard his voice it was a low, staticky murmur in my right ear rather than coming to me from across the van. "Let's go."

We peeled out of the van, and I reached under my right armpit and freed the matt black weapon from its holster, holding it as Matthew taught me. We stared down the building in front of us. Surrounded by a chain link fence and plastic sheeting with random construction material lying around.

"You have your orders." Baldy said. The men walked off crouched, looking through sights and keeping their eyes up. I stuck to mickey's back like glue. Dark hair, blue eyes and tanned, he really was cute.

We crossed to the fence and he clipped at the fence, working his way to construct a person sized hole. The tree of us and the two of team four folded through and approached a maintenance ladder up the side of the four-story building. Team four went first, followed by Mickey, then me next and the final part of team five followed behind me. He had a long black pony tail and beard, and I'd heard his name was Amir Yousef. The building was designed to have a large, open plan bottom level, with the tree levels above only sporting walkways on the outer perimeter of the space where offices were lined. What this resulted in was a massive sky light in the center of the room, with light shining from four stories below.

"Right here." Micky murmured to me as we fell to a crouch next to the sky light. I pulled the bag from my shoulder and, ever so gently, laid it down on the ground next to the skylight.

Team four began anchoring their grappling hooks around the air vents on the roof before dropping two bags full of thick black rope. They pulled out two portions of rope and I watched as one guy weaved the rope through a pully device. He pressed a green button and the device pulled the rope in with a quiet whir, the red button pushing the rope out. He clipped the device to a harness around his hip and fell to a knee. Meanwhile, Amir was setting up a sniper rifle on two sandbags, adjusting the sights while Mickey was looking around through a pair of binoculars.

I folded my legs and sat on the cold concrete. We were high enough off the ground that I couldn't hear the chirping of bugs and the thick, skintight fabric I wore kept me sufficiently warm. I wondered for a moment about Matthew's jacket, but Matthew's grandmother had said she'd make sure the jacket found its way back to my home.

"Positions?"

"Team one, check."

"Team two, check."

"Team three, check."

"Team four," one of the men across from me said, "Check."

"Team five, check." Amir said.