Betrayal (II of III) (441 hits)
Category: Quotes & StoriesRating: 2 on 12 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Draqus (View user info) at 2005-06-24 15:53:16 EDT
Watch Bosun as she smiles to herself; she is crawling through a cramped air vent, nowhere near large enough to accommodate her, but she is happy, because she is doing what she enjoys most; this happens to be her job, and she is one of the fortunate few who can claim this.
Watch her climb out of the vent and drop effortlessly to the floor, her soleless shoes making no noise on the stone floor. Foolish, that: she expects better; creaky floorboards preferably; at the least, tacks or a tripwire.
The corridor offers her no resistance, so she creeps onward. Her target is the betrayer; the company provided the location, a local firm her gear, intensive training her edge.
Watch her notice the tacks. They have been placed after all; the easy drop from the vent was simply a lure to a false sense of security. She clears them quietly.
Watch her move on.
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"That's right," I say. I spit blood from my mouth with what little strength I have. Rule number six, rule number six, my mind screams, but I'm past caring: we're personal now.
Foster hits me again. They gave up on the scalpel a while back, around the time we both lost track of the number of cuts.
Rule number two: play dead. I wish I was dead, but that option went out with number eight, so I'll have to take it. I retreat into my head, to block the pain. Rule number nine: in a torture situation, keep with it the whole time. I figure I'll live with going away in my own head, because I'm useless if I can't figure out why it's personal.
I think back to the point when I was hit; textbook, the bastards, and I can't help admiring them for that, but they're my unit, so I expect it. I was coming from somewhere, but more than that, I have no idea.
Foster hits me again.
I come back sometime later. Rule number four, but I can't help myself: Foster has a bitch of a right hand.
They've retreated into the corner, and when they notice me back again, Rita comes over. They've been doing this; making me know that they'll only hit me while I'm conscious. No luck of an easy death for me.
She insults my manhood.
I take it; the psychological isn't bothering me as much as the physical at the moment, so I'm cheerfully agreeing in my head: three inches? More like two, my dearest.
She keeps it up for a while, and then Foster's back, the full force of his anger smashing into my jaw. The power of speech wanders out with my ability to see out of my right eye, but I'm still doggedly sticking to rule number one, and taking it all in. Waiting for an opportunity; begging for help; hoping for release.
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Watch Bosun: she's found the door now, and her heart skips eagerly as her objective nears. She hears the sounds of violence inside, but she isn't worried. The unit she's up against is good, but only as a unit; the internal power struggles are no doubt weakening it.
She is her own woman; she knows this gives her an edge in a group situation. The mindset is half the challenge.
She kicks the door in and one of them is dead before the dust settles, her gun performing flawlessly. She shoots the betrayer in the shoulder, and the force knocks him over.
Watch Bosun level the gun on the other woman. They look at each other coolly. Bosun has a red dot wavering at her sternum: stalemate.
Brooks moans, trying to articulate something, but she disregards him.
"Step away," Bosun says. Watch her steady breathing, measured, calm, relaxed.
No movement.
"Step away."
No movement.
"Step away."
And the woman jumps forward, her shoulder hitting Bosun in the stomach, knocking her back, and it's a matter of fists. No time for the knife, just lash out quickly; get her down, before she does you.
Watch the other woman: she clearly isn't a fighter. She's losing.
She loses.
Bosun gets up, standing over her opponent, and looks over to the last man standing, a man familiar to her: Foster.
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My shoulder screams. I bowl forward, and the stone floor kisses my wounds with acid.
I try my best to speak, to say something, but no-one is listening. Foster stands there, paralysed, and I can't stop myself from thinking: do something, you fuck.
Markus is dead, and I can't say I care. I'm guessing Rita's dead, too, somewhere behind me, and I'm disappointed that all I can think of is getting the ring back off her finger: I hope blood doesn't stain it.
"You shouldn't have taken this into your own hands," a female voice behind me says. I estimate a single opponent behind me, but I can't tell, not for certain.
"He was betraying us," Foster says, and the words trigger my memory. My last actions come flooding back, and I remember why it's personal.
A gunshot.
Foster falls back, and hits the ground beside me, his eyes striving to focus on mine. All I can see his hatred, and I can't blame him, now that I know why it's personal.
My arms go loose, and I guess I've been cut free: can't feel my hands, can barely move them with the cuts. I massage the life back into them.
"Thngfs," I mumble, and I mean it, despite myself.
I'm hauled up, and my left eye gets a picture of my rescuer. I don't recognise the face, and I'm disappointed: a pretty face; not like my own.
She sets me on the chair again, and goes through the dead man's pockets. I watch her do it as my hands come back.
I spot the scalpel. It's lying close by. I can reach it. I seize my opportunity.
It's in her back before she knows it, and I twist it, making the wound worse. She drops, her lung most likely punctured, and so do I, the exertion enough to knock me over.
Betrayal: a dirty word.
And I'm the betrayer.
User Reviews
Submitted by corn_nugget (user info) at 2007-12-19 11:09:03 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Lechuga (user info) at 2005-07-12 02:45:43 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
More People need to read this. Solid material you got here.
Submitted by LadyPlural (user info) at 2005-06-26 20:53:41 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Interesting.
Submitted by peckerhead (user info) at 2005-06-24 22:47:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Solid. Well written. Terribly good.
Submitted by notyou (user info) at 2005-06-24 17:13:41 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by c1ndy (user info) at 2005-06-24 17:08:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by DaBaddestHic (user info) at 2005-06-24 16:54:52 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Heh I'm sort of confused, but that's ok. I like this writing style. Too bad there's only one more left :(
Submitted by Brdn_Nkd (user info) at 2005-06-24 16:35:40 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Kre8rix (user info) at 2005-06-24 16:10:53 (#)
Ranking: 2
There's only going to be three?
unfair...
why so little attention?
Submitted by Draqus (user info) at 2005-06-24 16:22:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
http://www.ubersite.com/m/69191 [Betrayal (I of III)
My mistake.I forgot to put it in the main body.
Submitted by Kre8rix (user info) at 2005-06-24 16:10:53 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
There's only going to be three?
unfair...
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2005-06-24 16:05:01 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
good shit!
Submitted by Draqus (user info) at 2005-06-24 15:53:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Vote for me, Ubermadness III!!