To say things have not gone to plan is something of an understatement.
Cleona is screaming, choking; scrabbling on the concrete walkway. Her weapon lies out of reach, though it's little use to her now. Behind her, Denise lies dead, while Jenny sobs and moans plaintively. They've taken more than a few of the defenders with them. But nowhere near enough.
Cowering beyond the choke-point, the surviving Agents look at each-other in alarm. There's only four of them left- if they're going to storm this last strong-point, they're going to have to overwhelm the defenders with numbers.
They need reinforcements- quick.
Lying out on the walkway, Cleona gives another anguished cry; she's trying to reach around and find where the bullet entered her, trying to staunch the blood with the palm of her hand. She just wants someone to come and drag her those last few metres.
But no-one's coming.
PicardJean-Luc
2025-05-28 20:52:35 +0000 UTC