You're Mine

Prologue

        My studded heels clicked against the dank concrete, echoing of the even more disgusting walls. They had to pick a cellar? really? theres a hotel like two blocks from here. Rolling my eyes I turned the corner and was momentarily blinded by light. I blinked and the room slowly came in to focus. In the center of the floor was a long wooden table. At the furthest end were three chairs. The man in the center was clearly in charge. You could tell by the way he made sure his chair was at least three inches taller than the others.
        His too tight button down highlighted every roll on his stubby little body. His designer shoes couldn't even touch the ground and his receding hair line really accentuated his beak of a nose. He looked like a fat, bald, toucan. A fat, bald, white toucan actually. I would be surprised if he ever gets out of that chair of his to be honest. As if this wasn't enough, I could of sworn he was wearing eyeliner. I squinted...is that...holy shit I think he's wearing eyeshadow too.

        "If I knew you were going to do your make up for this I would of dressed up" His smug smirk morphed into a rather unattractive scowl. "Shut up! Tell Petrov the shipments arrived and he can have them. As long as he's willing to pay" Ew the smirk is back. His beady eyes rake up and down my body. His smirk grows into a rather creepy looking grin. "I'll give him a discount if he throws you in the mix" He adds. I scoff "flattery will get you no where Redding"

        I walk closer to the table and slide my hand accross its surface. "In fact I'm here for something else." I stalk closer to the men at the end of the table, continuing to watch my hand drag along its edge. He gives me a-what I think is supposed to be sexy-smile. "What can I get for you my dear?" he asks while slowly leaning back in his chair.

         I drag my hand accross the back of the guy to his left. "You won't be able to give it to me" I reply with mock sadness. He raises an eyebrow. "Is that so?" he murmurs his eyes drooping 'seductively'. Honestly he just looks like he's taking a really sizable dump. I pout and give him a small nod. I continue to wander behind his chair placing both my hand on his shoulders. I lean in close and whisper in his ear "but I can take it from you". With that I grip both sides of his head. I reach inside my leather jacket and pull out the syringe. "Sorry" I whisper as I plunge it into his neck. His eyes snap open before drooping shut.

        The two men at the table shoot up in surprise and reach for the guns they each have stored at their waists. I duck and slide onto my knees pulling out my  glock 17 from my skinny jeans as they shoot at the spot where I was previously standing. I fire two, precise shots to their chests. They fall simaltaniously. The six guards that were lining the walls begin to charge forward. I dodge a bullet from the first and place a well aimed kick to the back of his knee, successfully crippling him. I grab the collar of his shirt and pull him in front of me to shield the multitude of incoming bullets. His body goes limp in my hands.
        I charge forward aiming a blow to the second ones stomach. He doubles over and I bring my knee up to his face. He drops to the floor with a sickening crack. I spin sideways, dodging a blow from another one to my left. I brace my body agaisnt the wall behind me and bring my feet up to his chest, pushing him backwards. He stumbles and I bring my elbow down into his temple. He collapses instantly. I look up and see only one man remaining. Shit the others must have left. I stand about six feet from the table with him on the other side. "who are you?" he spits. I say nothing. "WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU? Did Petrov send you? Is this about the money? WE SAID WE WOULD HAVE IT IN A WEEK!" He booms. I wait patiently at the end of the table as he quickly stalks towards me. I expect the first blow and swivel to the side. A pain quickly lances through my abdomen. Didn't see that one coming. I fake lunge to his right and quickly dart left managing to get behind him. I grip his head and shove it forward banging it on the table hard. He crumples to the floor. knocked out. I grip my throbbing abdomen and sit In one of the previously occupied chairs. I look down at the two unmoving bodies that I shot. I memorize their faces knowing that they are gonna haunt both my concious and unconcious thoughts. I inhale deeply and blow out through my mouth, well fuck.

******

        I breathe in the cool New york air. Didn't think i'd be back here so soon. I close my eyes and slip out my phone. I quickly dial the numbers that have become all too familiar over the years. "Hello?" A thick masculine voice rumbles from the reciever. "It's done" I whisper. "Complications?" I remember the two men that escaped and give an involintary shiver. ummm "None" I croak. "They're all incapacitated, awaiting a cleanup crew." "Good" Thats all I hear before the line goes dead. I let out a huge sigh of relief and lean my head on the window behind me. Time to go home I think sleepily. But before I have the chance to go I catch a glimpse at myself in the window and it sparks the one thought that has been bothering me from the moment I stepped into that cellar. Who the hell was Petrov?

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