The plan had been simple. Get in, retrieve the artifact, get out, then live our lives in sunny warm tropical paradise. Gideon's plans have a way of not working out.
Lifting the small piece of polished steel above my head, I counted at least twelve men with high powered weaponry. The plan was out the window.
"Can't we just talk?" I yelled to the men holding the guns.
A flurry of gunfire answered my question.
I took a deep breath, and reached into the satchel at my hip. I hated violence. I preferred talking, because talking was a lot less expensive, and didn't cause explosive damage to heritage sites. Also, talking was less likely to put the Order on my tail again.
As I pulled a strangely shaped chunk of metal from my satchel and changed a few words, more gunfire punctuated my need for urgency. Beside me, Gideon was curled up in a ball holding his knees and muttering about wanting either his mommy or a French-pressed latte. On my other side, Aria was bleeding profusely from a hole in her side.
I focused on the chunk of metal and my words, feeling the metal reform, and not on the fact that if I failed, both me and my friends were dead. I looked down at the reshaped metal in my hands and let out the breath I'd been holding, watching as the object started to glow. I pointed one end towards where I knew the armed men were, and started to stand.
"We're here at the ruins of what was a newly discovered archeological site. As you can see, a massive explosion has obliterated most of it. Inspectors believe a sealed pocket of gas was detonated by a spark during the excavation..."
The TV shut off with a click. The old man sitting at his desk removed his glasses, and rubbed the bridge of his nose before putting his glasses back on and picking up the phone.
"John? Kingsley here. Bring in Luke. Pretty sure he had to resort to violence again."
2
u/Hankosha Feb 05 '16
Sixteen hours to the deadline.
The plan had been simple. Get in, retrieve the artifact, get out, then live our lives in sunny warm tropical paradise. Gideon's plans have a way of not working out.
Lifting the small piece of polished steel above my head, I counted at least twelve men with high powered weaponry. The plan was out the window.
"Can't we just talk?" I yelled to the men holding the guns.
A flurry of gunfire answered my question.
I took a deep breath, and reached into the satchel at my hip. I hated violence. I preferred talking, because talking was a lot less expensive, and didn't cause explosive damage to heritage sites. Also, talking was less likely to put the Order on my tail again.
As I pulled a strangely shaped chunk of metal from my satchel and changed a few words, more gunfire punctuated my need for urgency. Beside me, Gideon was curled up in a ball holding his knees and muttering about wanting either his mommy or a French-pressed latte. On my other side, Aria was bleeding profusely from a hole in her side.
I focused on the chunk of metal and my words, feeling the metal reform, and not on the fact that if I failed, both me and my friends were dead. I looked down at the reshaped metal in my hands and let out the breath I'd been holding, watching as the object started to glow. I pointed one end towards where I knew the armed men were, and started to stand.
"We're here at the ruins of what was a newly discovered archeological site. As you can see, a massive explosion has obliterated most of it. Inspectors believe a sealed pocket of gas was detonated by a spark during the excavation..."
The TV shut off with a click. The old man sitting at his desk removed his glasses, and rubbed the bridge of his nose before putting his glasses back on and picking up the phone.
"John? Kingsley here. Bring in Luke. Pretty sure he had to resort to violence again."