Room 33.
The pain was searing through my body like a bullet when I came to. Blood covered my body from head to toe. That included my brand new Levi Strauss jeans. Damn.
Don’t you hate it when that happens? I really should start walking around with a sign on my forehead: stain my clothes and you will die. Then again, if anyone could see that sign they wouldn’t be living long anyway. Hauling myself to my feet and dismissing the pain as irrelevant, I sauntered over to my trusty 9mm - which at that exact moment decided to freeze up so I couldn’t release the safety - and shoved it down the back of my trousers. It wasn’t going to be much use now anyway.
Photograph by Jay Harrison.
About five minutes ago, depending on how long I had been unconscious, I had learnt how these people work. I had learnt it all far too well. They don’t do guns. These Triads preferred swords. I know what you must be thinking: how old fashioned is that? But, unfortunately, it worked for them. Hence me being covered in blood. To be fair, most of it actually belonged to other people, but a good spurt of it was mine. After our first introduction I was left with a deep gauge in my leg, arm and across my shoulder. I was not happy. Taking out my share of the Italian Mafia had been easy. This: not so much.
Sighing, I walked over to a partially dismembered body and unsheathed his Dao. I doubted he would need it any time soon. Grasping it with both hands I darted to the study door and slipped outside.
Nothing. That’s what was waiting for me. Absolutely nothing. Surely an assassin infiltrating their base and taking out over twenty men deserved at least a little reception? I felt slightly rejected. No matter: I’d soon have the chance to give them a piece of my mind. The days gone by hadn’t exactly been successful, and I did need someone to vent my anger on. My mission had been to eliminate Tung Chei, the Assistant Mountain Lord and personal friend of the Mountain Lord himself. It was no surprise that I hadn’t yet been successful. I found myself in my latest pickle after being caught snooping in the biotech labs, trying to discover what the Triads were planning for their next ‘takeover’ of China.
That’s what had resulted in my stained Levi’s. You could argue that it was my fault, but I wouldn’t if I were you; you don’t want to get on my bad side. Trust me on that one.
… … …
A few minutes later and I had already managed to bypass two security checkpoints by using the ventilation system. An old movie trick: but still very effective. The corridor I swung myself into was like one from James Bond Movie. With sleek, white, never-ending corridors scattered with sliding doors at intervals on either side, and men in white overalls wondering up and down them? Well, it was practically identical: minus the guys in white coats.
Confused, I cautiously took a few steps forward. I was sure this was where they’d go. It was only yesterday that I had caught the Assistant Mountain Lord and his ‘crew’ getting rather over-exited by a phone call in an office near here, and from experience I knew that suspicious looking underground rooms were often of importance to evil geniuses and their friends. A muffled sneeze from the right caught my attention and I darted to the wall. Not that it made much difference, seeing as I stood out like a sore thumb against the white walls. Still, it was comforting knowing that at least my back was covered.
Side-stepping along a few paces I gave the door of Room 33 a light shove so that I could peer inside. Mr Sneezy was there all right, a handkerchief half-glued to his nose which was running faster than a bullet from a M2 Machine gun. Through the slit in the door I had a relatively good view of a slick-looking conference room completed by a multitude of men’s backsides. I couldn’t decide if I was pleased by that or not.
There were thirteen men standing around the table, all of them doing their best ‘world’s-strongest-man’ impressions which – quite honestly – didn’t really suit the feminine feel of the room. It had a rich beige carpet with darker, and less appeasing colour walls, which were lined with mirrors and replicated paintings. The whole room was topped off with a rim of deep purple velvet, intricately detailed with dragon emblems, lining the upper-walls. All of the men seemed to be staring intently at something on the opposite side of the room, but unfortunately whatever their attention was focussed on was obscured from my view by a couple of bald heads and a rather large lilac and gold chair.
I had already ruled out my usual method of assasination, which was shoot and run. Oh – if you hadn’t already guessed by now – I’m an assassin. A beautician was my ‘official’ career title though. On this job I decided it was probably a good idea to see how things panned out first, as there were an abundance of men equipped with an assortment of dangerous looking weapons standing in the way of me, and who I thought was my target. I knew whoever he was would act superior to everyone else in the room, and be wearing a golden emblem of a dragon head somewhere on his clothes, but apart from this my boss had been very vague. Being such a protected man, none of the secret service agencies seemed to have photos of descriptions of him – not the CIA, FBI or even MI6, who had chosen me for this mission. I had been sent practically blind to Macau with a fake identity and very short profile on the particular Triads we were interested in, and a street name to check out.
It hadn’t been hard to sneak inside the complex, though I wasn’t sure whether that was down to my skill or the lack of attention the guards seemed to pay. Apparently this area of the city was restricted access anyway, so they didn’t usually need to worry about intruders. Trying to exit the place had proven considerably more difficult. After a few close shaves I had decided it was best to simply wait a few hours until activity had died down and take a look around myself. Then I’d gotten myself caught and now found myself desperately trying to carry out my job before they moved the Assistant Mountain Lord to a safer location. I couldn’t let this chance pass me by.
Concentrating, I strained to see past these men and up to whoever seemed to be about to address them. In a quick flicker of luck one particularly large man bent over to scratch his leg, leaving my line of vision free. Within a second I had spotted him – wait, no – I had spotter her? Her? On second glance I knew I wasn’t mistaken. On the right shoulder of her tight fitting knee-length dress was a large golden dragon’s head.
... ... ...
It wasn’t hard to fall into their trap. It was extremely easy, despite me really being quite good at my job. Having lost a lot of blood my mind had been spinning already and the confusion at finding out that the Assistant Mountain Lord was a woman had thrown me way off course. Women weren’t allowed to be triads. It never happened. Was she actually who I was after, or was this a game of theirs? Let me get things straight – I never panic. But this was as close as I had ever gotten before. Wondering whether I actually had anything to lose, I sighed to myself and with a great effort I heaved the door open. Before anyone had time to react I had flicked back my wrist and aimed the Dao at Miss Assistant Mountain Lord, and within a second it was lodged in her throat. Blood went everywhere. She tried to scream but after the puncture it came out as a gargle and a froth flowed over her lips in a vibrant shade of red.
With that repulsive picture embedded in my mind, I hesitated a split second too long and failed to realise that a security door had slammed down behind me before a loud crash echoed through my ears. This didn’t look good.
... ... ...
They were surrounding me now, thirteen against one. Usually those odds would be in my favour, but I wasn’t counting on these men being poorly trained security guards; no matter how much I hoped they were. The woman’s corpse lay twitching on the floor a few metres away, quickly staining the beige floor a deep maroon colour. Lovely.
I briefly made a mental note of my surroundings, considering how quickly I could make a mess with these buggers. Two minutes. That was my estimate. I imagined they would all charge at me at once, meaning my route would take me over the heads of two, around the back of another four and then back to face the remaining seven. From there on it was do or die. Their skills with swords were not likely to be worse than mine, but I had agility and speed on my side. That is, they were on my side if I didn’t soon faint from losing blood.
Their attack came quicker than I expected. It was obvious that my head wasn’t quite in the right place. I felt really faint. It wasn’t the best feeling when you were up against Triads. This had never happened before – I didn’t mess up. Ever. I had to focus. Concentrating on my weakness and my doubts, I turned them into anger to fuel my adrenaline rush. These people had been pains in my backside for weeks. Was I really going to let them get the better of me? Ha… fat chance.
Mr Sneezy came at me first, ducking under my first swipe at his head and tackling me to the ground. As he swung his spiked Dao over his head and aimed for my chest, I flicked my feet over my head and grabbed his neck with them. In the shock he dropped his weapon and with one last clean kick his neck snapped and he slumped to the ground. I jumped to my feet with enough time to spare leapfrogging a burly man with a scar across his face. Before he could do as much as turn to face me I had slashed his back and he fell forwards into a mirror, taking two other confused looking men with him. The impact must have rendered them unconscious, because their eyes rolled over in their sockets and they went still. Now, nine more to go.
From here, my plan went a bit wrong. I had jumped two and gotten rid of a third in the process, but now they had me cornered. The front three were already on me, but luckily I had enough energy to give them a reasonable challenge. The clash of swords rung heavily in my head as I parried their first attack. I lunged forward and clipped one of my opponents on the hip, to which he replied with a flurry of well aimed blows that I only just managed to evade. Not bothering to copy his moves I simply lunged once and while his sword was occupied I drew a dagger from my belt at threw it at his torso. Cheating, I know; but I had to smile.
By now it was obvious that his friends were getting a bit annoyed with me. Two darted forward at once this time, and as if that wasn’t enough I had to be wary that one had crept up behind me a drawn a creepy looking axe. Yes, an axe.
‘Come on, boys. Do you think this is fair? There are nine of you and only one of me: don’t you want to call for some backup?’ My cockiness was probably misplaced, seeing as I really wasn’t sure I could win this, but a little banter never hurt.
A moustached giant replied in a heavily accented voice. ‘You really should not underestimate us, woman. This is our territory you are in, and you will not leave here alive.’ His grimacing smile made me shiver. Would it really hurt to clean his teeth once in a while?
To make his point quite clear he charged at me with the backup of Axe-boy and someone who smelt of very powerful cologne. Our blades collided for a split second and I forced his aside, before ducking a swipe of an axe and twisting my feet around to knock Smiley’s out from under his body. He fell with a crash but still managed to block my stab at his chest. Scrabbling to his feet he shot at me with speed I wouldn’t have imaged could ever come from someone his size. I barely had time to react. I tumbled backwards just in time to stop the wound he gave me being fatal and failed to realise that Axe-boy had been right behind me, in the path of Smiley’s blade. Oh well: his loss.
The-One-Who-Smelt-of-Cologne had made the mistake of standing beside me as I fell, and prior to his attempt to gut me I flipped myself backward and kicked him where it hurt most. His doubled over and I finished him off with a knock out punch to the back of his neck. My stomach was bleeding now, and I had lost more blood than I should have done. All the movement had opened the wound to my leg, which had healed a little before, but overall I was not in good shape. But then again… there were only six left now.
That was when they realised my weakness. It was the turning point in this battle. I was weakening by the second – and they had finally noticed. Without warning they circled me, ensuring they were just close enough to obstruct any escape route, and yet kept enough distance in between us to significantly reduce the risk of a fatal wound. Clever, really. I would have to fight them but would be unable to kill them. And they knew I wouldn’t last long enough to live.
I was suddenly overcome with nausea and fell to my knees, still refusing to let the grip on my weapon loosen. Hearing and vision becoming impaired, I only just caught the sound of laughter wafting to my ears in slow-motion, bringing my pent up anger to the boil throughout my body, and yet was physically unable to do a God damned thing about it. It was frustrating. My mind was so ready to finish this fight, but my body had given in without consideration. I could now feel the pulse rushing through my head and the blood seeping out of my wounds to join the confused amalgamation of bodily fluids already lining the floor. It was agonizing. The welcoming invitation of darkness and rest insisted that I give in, but I would not let myself go so easily.
‘You should know when it is time to give up.’ This new voice was so enchanting that for a split second I wondered if I had actually died. It was as if it were commanding me to be at peace for the first time in my life. It was telling me I could finally die. But then I perceived what the voice had said: and the slight edge in that voice and the spite that lay behind it. I knew who the voice belonged to.
Trying my best to ignore the throbbing sensation in my head, I used my free hand to turn myself to face the source of the voice. I had to blink a few times to remove the blur from my vision, but I soon saw him. He was tall - maybe six foot four - and ruggedly handsome, with defined cheekbones and brown eyes that matched his mid-length dark hair. He was dressed in white, with the exception on a red tie with gold stitching. On his chest pocket was a golden broach about the size of drinks coaster. Guess what it portrayed. Yes, a Dragon. A rather contorted golden dragon with blazing ruby eyes. Second time lucky. This had to be the Assistant Mountain Lord, for sure.
His smile confirmed my thoughts. The arrogance and pride shown in it was unmistakeable. This man had to be important, even if he wasn’t who I had come for. I decided that if I was going down: he was coming with me. And even though the situation I found myself in didn’t look promising, I had never before been denied a kill. I still had one last trick up my sleeve.
I gulped as I pressed the black button on my personalised Rolex. From there the screen showed me two options: aptly named ‘damn’ and ‘bam’. I clicked ‘bam’. There was no turning back now. Two minutes to go.
With the last ounce of energy I had remaining, I brought myself to standing. Leaning on the Dao that had assisted me this far, I looked around at the remaining men that now sneered at me with contempt. I let out a shaky laugh. They were oblivious to the fact that there was a bomb concealed inside my left arm, with fifty seconds left until it ‘bammed’ and obliterated them all.
The preferred option for colleagues in my position was ‘damn’- a lethal poison created to silence unfortunate blabbermouths in the agency, but for these buggers I made an exception to the rule. Five seconds left. Just enough time for a final message to my host before we all went to hell.
‘Screw you.’
Jessica P. Hawkes
The pain was searing through my body like a bullet when I came to. Blood covered my body from head to toe. That included my brand new Levi Strauss jeans. Damn.
Don’t you hate it when that happens? I really should start walking around with a sign on my forehead: stain my clothes and you will die. Then again, if anyone could see that sign they wouldn’t be living long anyway. Hauling myself to my feet and dismissing the pain as irrelevant, I sauntered over to my trusty 9mm - which at that exact moment decided to freeze up so I couldn’t release the safety - and shoved it down the back of my trousers. It wasn’t going to be much use now anyway.
Photograph by Jay Harrison.
About five minutes ago, depending on how long I had been unconscious, I had learnt how these people work. I had learnt it all far too well. They don’t do guns. These Triads preferred swords. I know what you must be thinking: how old fashioned is that? But, unfortunately, it worked for them. Hence me being covered in blood. To be fair, most of it actually belonged to other people, but a good spurt of it was mine. After our first introduction I was left with a deep gauge in my leg, arm and across my shoulder. I was not happy. Taking out my share of the Italian Mafia had been easy. This: not so much.
Sighing, I walked over to a partially dismembered body and unsheathed his Dao. I doubted he would need it any time soon. Grasping it with both hands I darted to the study door and slipped outside.
Nothing. That’s what was waiting for me. Absolutely nothing. Surely an assassin infiltrating their base and taking out over twenty men deserved at least a little reception? I felt slightly rejected. No matter: I’d soon have the chance to give them a piece of my mind. The days gone by hadn’t exactly been successful, and I did need someone to vent my anger on. My mission had been to eliminate Tung Chei, the Assistant Mountain Lord and personal friend of the Mountain Lord himself. It was no surprise that I hadn’t yet been successful. I found myself in my latest pickle after being caught snooping in the biotech labs, trying to discover what the Triads were planning for their next ‘takeover’ of China.
That’s what had resulted in my stained Levi’s. You could argue that it was my fault, but I wouldn’t if I were you; you don’t want to get on my bad side. Trust me on that one.
… … …
A few minutes later and I had already managed to bypass two security checkpoints by using the ventilation system. An old movie trick: but still very effective. The corridor I swung myself into was like one from James Bond Movie. With sleek, white, never-ending corridors scattered with sliding doors at intervals on either side, and men in white overalls wondering up and down them? Well, it was practically identical: minus the guys in white coats.
Confused, I cautiously took a few steps forward. I was sure this was where they’d go. It was only yesterday that I had caught the Assistant Mountain Lord and his ‘crew’ getting rather over-exited by a phone call in an office near here, and from experience I knew that suspicious looking underground rooms were often of importance to evil geniuses and their friends. A muffled sneeze from the right caught my attention and I darted to the wall. Not that it made much difference, seeing as I stood out like a sore thumb against the white walls. Still, it was comforting knowing that at least my back was covered.
Side-stepping along a few paces I gave the door of Room 33 a light shove so that I could peer inside. Mr Sneezy was there all right, a handkerchief half-glued to his nose which was running faster than a bullet from a M2 Machine gun. Through the slit in the door I had a relatively good view of a slick-looking conference room completed by a multitude of men’s backsides. I couldn’t decide if I was pleased by that or not.
There were thirteen men standing around the table, all of them doing their best ‘world’s-strongest-man’ impressions which – quite honestly – didn’t really suit the feminine feel of the room. It had a rich beige carpet with darker, and less appeasing colour walls, which were lined with mirrors and replicated paintings. The whole room was topped off with a rim of deep purple velvet, intricately detailed with dragon emblems, lining the upper-walls. All of the men seemed to be staring intently at something on the opposite side of the room, but unfortunately whatever their attention was focussed on was obscured from my view by a couple of bald heads and a rather large lilac and gold chair.
I had already ruled out my usual method of assasination, which was shoot and run. Oh – if you hadn’t already guessed by now – I’m an assassin. A beautician was my ‘official’ career title though. On this job I decided it was probably a good idea to see how things panned out first, as there were an abundance of men equipped with an assortment of dangerous looking weapons standing in the way of me, and who I thought was my target. I knew whoever he was would act superior to everyone else in the room, and be wearing a golden emblem of a dragon head somewhere on his clothes, but apart from this my boss had been very vague. Being such a protected man, none of the secret service agencies seemed to have photos of descriptions of him – not the CIA, FBI or even MI6, who had chosen me for this mission. I had been sent practically blind to Macau with a fake identity and very short profile on the particular Triads we were interested in, and a street name to check out.
It hadn’t been hard to sneak inside the complex, though I wasn’t sure whether that was down to my skill or the lack of attention the guards seemed to pay. Apparently this area of the city was restricted access anyway, so they didn’t usually need to worry about intruders. Trying to exit the place had proven considerably more difficult. After a few close shaves I had decided it was best to simply wait a few hours until activity had died down and take a look around myself. Then I’d gotten myself caught and now found myself desperately trying to carry out my job before they moved the Assistant Mountain Lord to a safer location. I couldn’t let this chance pass me by.
Concentrating, I strained to see past these men and up to whoever seemed to be about to address them. In a quick flicker of luck one particularly large man bent over to scratch his leg, leaving my line of vision free. Within a second I had spotted him – wait, no – I had spotter her? Her? On second glance I knew I wasn’t mistaken. On the right shoulder of her tight fitting knee-length dress was a large golden dragon’s head.
... ... ...
It wasn’t hard to fall into their trap. It was extremely easy, despite me really being quite good at my job. Having lost a lot of blood my mind had been spinning already and the confusion at finding out that the Assistant Mountain Lord was a woman had thrown me way off course. Women weren’t allowed to be triads. It never happened. Was she actually who I was after, or was this a game of theirs? Let me get things straight – I never panic. But this was as close as I had ever gotten before. Wondering whether I actually had anything to lose, I sighed to myself and with a great effort I heaved the door open. Before anyone had time to react I had flicked back my wrist and aimed the Dao at Miss Assistant Mountain Lord, and within a second it was lodged in her throat. Blood went everywhere. She tried to scream but after the puncture it came out as a gargle and a froth flowed over her lips in a vibrant shade of red.
With that repulsive picture embedded in my mind, I hesitated a split second too long and failed to realise that a security door had slammed down behind me before a loud crash echoed through my ears. This didn’t look good.
... ... ...
They were surrounding me now, thirteen against one. Usually those odds would be in my favour, but I wasn’t counting on these men being poorly trained security guards; no matter how much I hoped they were. The woman’s corpse lay twitching on the floor a few metres away, quickly staining the beige floor a deep maroon colour. Lovely.
I briefly made a mental note of my surroundings, considering how quickly I could make a mess with these buggers. Two minutes. That was my estimate. I imagined they would all charge at me at once, meaning my route would take me over the heads of two, around the back of another four and then back to face the remaining seven. From there on it was do or die. Their skills with swords were not likely to be worse than mine, but I had agility and speed on my side. That is, they were on my side if I didn’t soon faint from losing blood.
Their attack came quicker than I expected. It was obvious that my head wasn’t quite in the right place. I felt really faint. It wasn’t the best feeling when you were up against Triads. This had never happened before – I didn’t mess up. Ever. I had to focus. Concentrating on my weakness and my doubts, I turned them into anger to fuel my adrenaline rush. These people had been pains in my backside for weeks. Was I really going to let them get the better of me? Ha… fat chance.
Mr Sneezy came at me first, ducking under my first swipe at his head and tackling me to the ground. As he swung his spiked Dao over his head and aimed for my chest, I flicked my feet over my head and grabbed his neck with them. In the shock he dropped his weapon and with one last clean kick his neck snapped and he slumped to the ground. I jumped to my feet with enough time to spare leapfrogging a burly man with a scar across his face. Before he could do as much as turn to face me I had slashed his back and he fell forwards into a mirror, taking two other confused looking men with him. The impact must have rendered them unconscious, because their eyes rolled over in their sockets and they went still. Now, nine more to go.
From here, my plan went a bit wrong. I had jumped two and gotten rid of a third in the process, but now they had me cornered. The front three were already on me, but luckily I had enough energy to give them a reasonable challenge. The clash of swords rung heavily in my head as I parried their first attack. I lunged forward and clipped one of my opponents on the hip, to which he replied with a flurry of well aimed blows that I only just managed to evade. Not bothering to copy his moves I simply lunged once and while his sword was occupied I drew a dagger from my belt at threw it at his torso. Cheating, I know; but I had to smile.
By now it was obvious that his friends were getting a bit annoyed with me. Two darted forward at once this time, and as if that wasn’t enough I had to be wary that one had crept up behind me a drawn a creepy looking axe. Yes, an axe.
‘Come on, boys. Do you think this is fair? There are nine of you and only one of me: don’t you want to call for some backup?’ My cockiness was probably misplaced, seeing as I really wasn’t sure I could win this, but a little banter never hurt.
A moustached giant replied in a heavily accented voice. ‘You really should not underestimate us, woman. This is our territory you are in, and you will not leave here alive.’ His grimacing smile made me shiver. Would it really hurt to clean his teeth once in a while?
To make his point quite clear he charged at me with the backup of Axe-boy and someone who smelt of very powerful cologne. Our blades collided for a split second and I forced his aside, before ducking a swipe of an axe and twisting my feet around to knock Smiley’s out from under his body. He fell with a crash but still managed to block my stab at his chest. Scrabbling to his feet he shot at me with speed I wouldn’t have imaged could ever come from someone his size. I barely had time to react. I tumbled backwards just in time to stop the wound he gave me being fatal and failed to realise that Axe-boy had been right behind me, in the path of Smiley’s blade. Oh well: his loss.
The-One-Who-Smelt-of-Cologne had made the mistake of standing beside me as I fell, and prior to his attempt to gut me I flipped myself backward and kicked him where it hurt most. His doubled over and I finished him off with a knock out punch to the back of his neck. My stomach was bleeding now, and I had lost more blood than I should have done. All the movement had opened the wound to my leg, which had healed a little before, but overall I was not in good shape. But then again… there were only six left now.
That was when they realised my weakness. It was the turning point in this battle. I was weakening by the second – and they had finally noticed. Without warning they circled me, ensuring they were just close enough to obstruct any escape route, and yet kept enough distance in between us to significantly reduce the risk of a fatal wound. Clever, really. I would have to fight them but would be unable to kill them. And they knew I wouldn’t last long enough to live.
I was suddenly overcome with nausea and fell to my knees, still refusing to let the grip on my weapon loosen. Hearing and vision becoming impaired, I only just caught the sound of laughter wafting to my ears in slow-motion, bringing my pent up anger to the boil throughout my body, and yet was physically unable to do a God damned thing about it. It was frustrating. My mind was so ready to finish this fight, but my body had given in without consideration. I could now feel the pulse rushing through my head and the blood seeping out of my wounds to join the confused amalgamation of bodily fluids already lining the floor. It was agonizing. The welcoming invitation of darkness and rest insisted that I give in, but I would not let myself go so easily.
‘You should know when it is time to give up.’ This new voice was so enchanting that for a split second I wondered if I had actually died. It was as if it were commanding me to be at peace for the first time in my life. It was telling me I could finally die. But then I perceived what the voice had said: and the slight edge in that voice and the spite that lay behind it. I knew who the voice belonged to.
Trying my best to ignore the throbbing sensation in my head, I used my free hand to turn myself to face the source of the voice. I had to blink a few times to remove the blur from my vision, but I soon saw him. He was tall - maybe six foot four - and ruggedly handsome, with defined cheekbones and brown eyes that matched his mid-length dark hair. He was dressed in white, with the exception on a red tie with gold stitching. On his chest pocket was a golden broach about the size of drinks coaster. Guess what it portrayed. Yes, a Dragon. A rather contorted golden dragon with blazing ruby eyes. Second time lucky. This had to be the Assistant Mountain Lord, for sure.
His smile confirmed my thoughts. The arrogance and pride shown in it was unmistakeable. This man had to be important, even if he wasn’t who I had come for. I decided that if I was going down: he was coming with me. And even though the situation I found myself in didn’t look promising, I had never before been denied a kill. I still had one last trick up my sleeve.
I gulped as I pressed the black button on my personalised Rolex. From there the screen showed me two options: aptly named ‘damn’ and ‘bam’. I clicked ‘bam’. There was no turning back now. Two minutes to go.
With the last ounce of energy I had remaining, I brought myself to standing. Leaning on the Dao that had assisted me this far, I looked around at the remaining men that now sneered at me with contempt. I let out a shaky laugh. They were oblivious to the fact that there was a bomb concealed inside my left arm, with fifty seconds left until it ‘bammed’ and obliterated them all.
The preferred option for colleagues in my position was ‘damn’- a lethal poison created to silence unfortunate blabbermouths in the agency, but for these buggers I made an exception to the rule. Five seconds left. Just enough time for a final message to my host before we all went to hell.
‘Screw you.’
Jessica P. Hawkes