Till Deceived Do We Part

“Andrayka Angiol, it’s a pleasure to see you again.” I didn’t speak, I was more concerned about getting his foot off my chest, the way he was pushing it down, I would be left with no breasts in a few minutes. Damn did this hurt. Jake was so going to rub this in my face, he had always insisted I wore those new armoured bras, that are originally meant for soccer players, on missions, so if something like this happened, it wouldn’t be as bad. I had always said that first, I would never get into the position of needing one because I’m untouchable. And second, that if they did get their hands on me, that they would never make such a low blow. Well, me theories are shot... but then again, what male ever plays fair? Only real men do...

How did he know me? That was what reached my mind second, though I’m pretty sure it should have reached first. Ah well, I hit my head, I’m allow to not prioritize my head right now. I had an excuse... this time.

The asphalt was digging into my back and hands, rubbing them red. I let out a low growl in frustration, this so wasn’t fair! I was a top assassin, I could take this guy. I used my hands, and attempted to use my feet, until he stepped on them, to push off the ground. That only caused him to push down harder with his foot, a strange gleam in his eyes. That’s right, let him suck in my moment of defeat, for soon he would be the one on his back struggling to get the advantage.

My knuckles scraped the road, making more cuts appear and more blood ooze out. I didn’t care. For a moment I laid there beneath his boot struggling when I realized something... I was an idiot. Here I was trying to push off and do my infamous manoeuver that had even Flint jealous, when there was an easy alternative I could do.

Before the man knew what I was doing, I had wrapped my arms around his leg and pulled. Sure, I ended up getting booted in the cheek as his foot slipped, but it was worth it.

His body lost composure and I took that opportunity to knock him off his feet. It would have been a good plan, a good solution... if he hadn’t been armed. A shot rang out as his body fell, and due to our close proximity, I couldn’t move to my fullest abilities... that and my already injured head didn’t help. I did manage to avoid getting hit in any fatal areas, but the bullet did manage to wedge itself in my right arm.

I remember when I first got shot in the arm, I had been nine. Flint had been practicing his aim on targets when I snuck up on him. Not being fully trained yet, his body jumped in alarm, turning in the process. That resulted in me getting a bullet in my arm. It took a moment for both of us to realize what had happened, since it had happened so fast. The bullet had gone right threw that time, and since it was so fast, I hadn’t felt anything. Blood had splattered, but we still both trying to comprehend what had happened... until I noticed the hole that lay upon my arm, in which time I screamed. I didn’t cry, I don’t cry. The last time I cried was three days after I had been rescued from my home that was on fire. When I had screamed, Flint had finally realized what had happened and was too stunned to do anything.

Now, after much yelling, mostly from Jake, everything was sorted out. My arm was bandaged and Flint was taught to not shoot from fright... and I was taught not to sneak up on an amateur shooter. That made me laugh and made Flint give Jake the silent treatment for five hours, he only broke it when Jake bought donuts...

Now, in that experience I learned three valuable things. One, being shot in the arm hurst like a B****. Second, if you don’t stop the blood flow quick enough you will have to retrain your whole arm. And third... never, never, let the person who shot you get away with it.

I did let out a small scream, or you could call it a loud gasp, as the bullet went into my arm, but I didn’t cry. As I said, I don’t cry. So, after ignoring the stinging hot sensation of my now burning arm, I grabbed the nearest thing I could find, which was a rock, and hit him as hard as I could in the head before he had time to realize he had shot me. It stunned him long enough for me to get to my feet and bolt. I wasn’t being a coward, I was going for my gun.

Now, some people may ask, why didn’t I just take his gun? Why didn’t I just pin him down? First reason for not doing that is if I tried to grab his gun, he would instinctively fight for it, no matter what head injury, and with my shot arm, I wasn’t going to win that fight. I’ll admit that. The second reason is, since I did hit him on the head, he would be stunned for a moment as long as no immediate threat came, so I had a brief amount of time to get to my car and gun.

My hand swung open the door and my arm, my left one, shot out for the gun. I had turned before I had it completely in my hand. But when the cool grip reached my hand I felt the sensation of contentment hit me. Now it was fair. Now it was on... now he was going to pay.

I was out of my car just as fast, and he had only began to get up. Taking his cowardly approach into consideration when I reached him, I kicked him hard in the groin. He let out a howl of pain and before he could point his gun at me, I stomped on his chest with my foot and pointed my gun at his head.

His eyes were watering in pain, wuss, and he had a very pained expression on his face. How did he think I felt? I had my chest stomped on, my head split open and a bullet go through my arm. I was actually feeling dizzy from blood loss, but I didn’t show it. I wouldn’t show it.

“How do you know who I am?!” I hissed, my voice going deadly. I saw a flash of fear pass his eyes before the pain covered it up. “I suggest you answer,” I hissed again, more venom in my voice. His breath was heavy as he looked at me.

“I answer, “ he rasped, obviously still in pain. Good. “You kill me. I remain silent,” he took a shuddering breath, “you kill me.” He had a point, but I still wanted answers.

I wasn’t one to call for backup, but my vision was starting to sway to a deadly point, so I had no choice. To do this, I kicked his gun away and forced him against my car, his back pressed against it, my gun to his temple. I then reached in and got my cell phone, my eyes on him the whole time. Now, grabbing the phone should be the easiest task, right? Well, with only one arm, it was a little harder. I had to juggle a gun and a phone in one hand, then somehow hit Jakes speed dial contact.

It took a few stressful minutes, in which time I swore, the man laughed... then the man screamed when I hit him with the barrel of the gun, but I finally got it. Once I did get it, I used my shoulder to keep it up which was excruciating painful since I had to hold my arm up.

“Drake?” Came Jake’s voice, it sounded worried almost. Aww, was he worried? Right, now wasn’t the time to fool around.

“Jake, I need you to come get me.” I was surprised by how exhausted my voice sounded. Wasn’t it just a moment ago that I was hissing my deadliest voice at the man before me? And now I was having trouble keeping my voice strong? Damn, I must be losing blood faster than I thought. “I... I have a man I need you to detain.” I planted my feet firmly on the ground to stop from swaying any more. This wasn’t good. I glanced at the man who was now watching me with a hopeful gleam in his eyes. Yeah right, if he expected me to fall over from exhaustion so he could get away and do what he was going to with me, then he had another thing coming. “Don’t even think about it.” I growled... which took up a lot of energy.

“I have a team sent, Flint and Zane are with them. They’re tracking the GPS.” He paused. “Stay on the phone with me, Drake, until they get there.” I nodded then realized he couldn’t see me and mumbled yeah. “Physical report?” I took a deep breath and was going to speak but decided against it. My vision was now swaying more, and it was then that I realized a pool of blood was collecting at my feet, and that my eyes weren’t focussed. I kept my eyes on the man though, who was still sitting there, my gun still pointed at his head. “Drake...” came his voice. It sounded stressed and worried, for my name was like one huge breath being let out. I made an indecipherable sound before he spoke again. “Hang in there, they’ll be there in no more than a minute. Just hold on Drake.” Yeah, like I had anything else to do.

The man, as if realizing that this was his prime opportunity jumped up... probably still a little sore since he was slightly hunched over. I gripped the gun tighter, allowing the phone to fall as I stared at his blurred image. I could hear Jake’s frantic voice but I made no move to pick up the phone. The man was now a dark blue blur in front of me, slowly moving closer.

The assassin part of me was telling me to shoot, to kill his sorry ass. But then the logic side, the side Jake had made us all have, was telling me that we needed to question him. That we needed his information, and at the base... well, let’s just say we had many methods of torture.

“Sit down,” I breathed, my voice as firm as I could get it, which wasn’t very. The man let out a small laugh.

“Andrayka Angiol,” he said, speaking my full name again. Even though I was dizzy and light headed, I still took notice, once again, that he knew my name. And not many people knew my last name. Something wasn’t right. “Put down the gun. It’s a losing battle.” He paused, advancing more. My finger was on the trigger, but I didn’t pull. Jake said a minute, if I can keep him talking for a minute, just one more minute, then maybe it’ll work out.

I felt so weak for the first time in a long time. I hated feeling like this, and usually I could hold up better. But my mind was elsewhere. I was mad at myself for not holding up in the fight. I was better than him, he had poor skills, he didn’t even watch what I was planning. Yet I screwed up, why? I wasn’t supposed to mess up, yet here I was again. Was I losing my touch? I think I was... but I tried to think of another reason. Dane? No, I couldn’t blame him on this. When in the zone I was supposed to forget any conflicts or relationships.

He continued forward but I didn’t move. If he got too close I would shoot. I would... I just hope my finger would pull the trigger. He was basically just a big blur and I was relying mostly on my senses.

“Yo-“ the man started, but he was cut off by the screeching of tires coming around a corner. His head snapped around, but I didn’t move mine. Never take your eyes off the target... at least I could remember that. He swore before lunging at me. I barely remember pulling the trigger and I barely remember Zane and Flint rushing out, along with many other men I didn’t know the names of. I barely remember them putting me in the van... but I do remember them pulling out the bullet. Now that hurt... but after that, I remember nothing but darkness.