Lightning Rod (Unfinished)

Angel Santiago I

"You see her? What's she doin'?" a man sputters as he pulls away binoculars from his sweat-soaked forehead. Another man squatted down beside him and pushed up dirt-speckled glasses.
"Looks like... she's fixin' a motorcycle." The man with glasses murmured. The other looked to the east from the small sand dune on which he squatted.
"Ah, sand storm coming from the East. That'll be good cover for this op." The man with binoculars began loading an AK47. The two men pulled up their scarves to their noses as the sandstorm overtook the dunes.
                                       •••
     Angel threw a wrench against her outer shack wall.
     "Jesus Christ I give up. This motorcycle is beyond repair. It's missing a fucking wheel. Why did I even bother?" she yelled to the wastes. Her gaze diverted to the East, where she saw the sandstorm.
     "Alright then. Looks like I'm gonna have to wait this one out." Suddenly, she looked back in front of herself. In the distance, on the dune. She saw two men, in full assault gear.
     "Goddamn it. Henley sent a couple of guys to collect." Angel looked to the East, and saw the sandstorm, approaching fast. Based off her estimate, she had about 2 minutes till she was engulfed. That was enough time to set the traps, at least she thought as such. Her black thigh-high boots clacked together as she ran to the first bear trap and set it. The second was only about 20 feet from the first, but it wouldn't set. She kept pushing the latching mechanism, but to no avail. One would have to do.
     The sandstorm engulfed her, as Angel pulled her scarf over her nose and mouth and her welding goggles over her eyes. She sprinted to the shack, slamming the door behind herself.
                                       •••
"Alright then, let's make a move and get that money back for Henley," 'Sweaty' decided. 'Sweaty' and 'Glasses' slid down the dune. The sandstorm whipped against the little amount of bare skin they had. It had effectively blinded them beyond a five foot radius.
     'Glasses' took out his radio and spoke into it, "Hey, you there? Go around back, and I'll cover the front." Around the bend of the house, 'Sweaty' approached the door, not paying attention to the sand, which would be his own downfall. The next step taken would be his final, as the bear trap clamped its teeth into his leather combat boots and pierced his calf muscles.
     The scream of pain was drowned out by the sand whipping against the metal shack walls, and was quickly silenced by a bootstrap dagger courtesy of Angel. She wrapped her arms around him and whispered, "Any last words for your colleague? Something you wanna tell him?"
     Her words crept through his mind as she handed him the radio, where he yelled, "Hon, you there?"
     "Woah there. I had no idea you two were an item. Don't worry. I wouldn't keep two lovebirds apart for long." she sneered.
     "Yeah? What's wrong babe?" 'Glasses' responded, frightfully, knowing that 'Sweaty' never uses his pet name on a mission unless he's in grave danger.
     "I just wanted to say. I-I love yo-" 'Sweaty' was cut off by the sickening sound of a knife being dragged through flesh and the guttural noise that proceeds it.
     Angel picked up the radio and spoke in a grim, almost monotonous voice, "Don't worry, it was a clean kill." Her hand released the radio, where her boot turned it into pieces barely bigger than the grains of sand.
     'Glasses' continued to walk around the house, until he spotted something. It looked vaguely humanoid, though it was hard to tell in the conditions of the sandstorm. From behind him, he could her the clear sound of boots slamming against each other as Angel ran towards him.
     He couldn't load his AK47 fast enough, as Angel reached about 5 feet from him and launched into a handspring. She did a full front flip and landed with her thighs wrapped around his mid torso. She unsheathed from her back, two katanas with shortened and rusted blades which she pierced him multiple times with. Each stab let out a fleshy, volatile noise. His screams of pain couldn't be drowned out by the storm. His legs buckled beneath him, while Angel uncrossed hers from around him and pulled her swords out for the final time, wiping them clean on his shoulders.
     "Well then. Out of respect, I'll ask you: Any last words for Henley or anyone else in your life that I should deliver for you?"
     "Tell Henley that he deserves no respect." 'Glasses' released from his twisted expression.
     "Already planning on that, friend. Now, buh-bye." These words echoed as the last thing 'Glasses' would hear in life, as Angel's swords crossed paths and passed through his neck. The blood spurted from the empty cavity of his neck, drenching Angel's plain white tank top.
     "Aw, fuck! This was my last shirt that didn't have blood on it!" Angel commented as she kicked over the headless corpse.
     "Now i gotta go clean this and hope to God this shit'll come out." she muttered to herself as she walked towards the door of her shack.
     The humanoid shape began walking towards the shack, loaded with Germedian assault gear.
     "The target is in the shack, send in the extraction chopper."