Traitors

The snickering of my lighter resonates throughout the hollowed restroom. The glow of the flame mesmerizes me. The familiar warmth lingers on my face drawing out a satisfied smile. I lick my index finger bringing it against my thumb over the flame leaving behind a crackling sound. I sigh leaning my head against the stall door glancing up at the vent. A beep echoes in my ear and I reach my hand up tapping the button on my earpiece.

"Building is cleared out. Simmons is coming up to help you." This is the first I've heard Fierce's voice in hours.

"Copy that, chief." I release the button and pull myself up from the floor.

I ball up the navy skirt and white blouse and chuck them into the trash can. I happily toss the nappy wig in right after them. I hold the navy heels Quela was excited for me to wear. I couldn't possibly wear them right now, but I didn't have anywhere to put them. I set them on the floor and rest my hand on my hip. I tightly grip my lighter before shoving it into my pocket.

A slight knock erupts from the other side of the restroom door. I jump back startled, but realize it's Simmons when he pops his blonde head in. He smiles making me feel secure and relaxed. He slips in and explains he just has to run down to the closet to retrieve the gasoline as long as I'm okay with keeping watch over the office on this floor. He informs me the entire building is empty so I have nothing to worry about. He also admits that once he hands over the gasoline, he's leaving immediately wanting no connection to the rebellion anymore.

"It's my last mission and I'm glad it's with you." He smiles making me feel more relieved than I have all day.

We head toward the door and exit out into the office space. Simmons disappears in the stairwell as I tiptoe around the corner only to find it to be empty. I frolic from station to station before picking a random one to sit myself down in. I move the computer's mouse and the screen flickers on. I laugh as the desktop appears before me. I guess someone forgot to log out. I roll my eyes. Amateur.

I scroll over to the envelope in the corner of the screen and rapidly click it. The person's email account loads in seconds. I like to snoop and not like this will matter anyway. This whole place will be demolished in a few minutes. I skim over the emails not really finding anything valuable. Simmons enters the room nearly sending me into cardiac arrest. He laughs surprised I found his best friend's work station admitting to me he spent a lot of time there, as well. I rise from the seat, but scrunch my eyebrows down when I notice they have one saved email. I slide back down into the seat clicking on it and begin reading:

Grant,
I don't know how to tell you this properly so I figured this would be the best way to tell you. I haven't been completely honest with you. I've done some things I'm not proud of and I wanted you to know who I am, the real me. Before I tell you, you must know I didn't plan on things going so well between us. I didn't plan on any of this. My job, my real job, was to infiltrate this company and take it down from the inside, but I can't do this anymore. I can't keep lying to the friends I've made here, you and myself. I'm a traitor to you and this country. You helped me see there are still good people in this world who want to make it a safer place. My values evolved into yours and you opened my eyes in new and enlightening ways. This is my goodbye to you. Because I know you, you will probably save this and show it to Matthews in the morning, and then I'll be the next one with the noose around my neck. But, this isn't what I wanted to tell you. I wanted you to know that I love you and always will. I'm sorry I betrayed you. I'm so sorry.
Isaac

My heart falls into the pit in my stomach. My eyes glance up from the monitor and notice Simmons isn't in the room. I press the button on my earpiece to contact Fierce. I force myself up from the station and over to the unoccupied gasoline can. I lift it and begin soaking the entire room. My heart pounds against my chest. Simmons said he would leave immediately, but that gnawing gut feeling is back and I'm torn as to what I should do. Fierce's words echo through my head. You sense any danger, get out. But I can't leave now. I'm too far in to escape now. The room is coated in gasoline, I can't leave it like this. I reach up and tap the earpiece again. Why isn't he answering me?

I reach into my back pocket and whip out my lighter. I don't care, I'm setting this place on fire now. I flick my lighter on and crouch down toward the floor. I freeze in my tracks when I hear a sound I never thought I'd hear in my life, the click of a gun. My eyes widen as I slowly turn my head to see who is wielding it. The hand shakes out of nervousness.

"Don't move." Simmons hisses at me. I lift my thumb as the flame disappears into my lighter. My earpiece beeps and Fierce's voice slowly becomes audible. I bite my lip wanting to say something, but fear is rapidly pumping through my veins, paralyzing me. "I don't want to do this, Detope, because you are a good person," I slowly attempt to turn my body around to face him, "I said don't fucking move!" Simmons screams pressing the gun to the back of my head. "But I've found someone worth fighting for and I'm doing this for him."

"Detope?" Fierce yells into my ear. His voice sounds shaken. "Detope, what is going on? Talk to me!" I hear the car door open and slam shut. "Phoenix, answer me goddammit!"

"Isaac, please." My voice shakes. "We're friends."

"Fuck!" Fierce's voice explodes in my ear in a disgruntled pant. "Phoenix, answer me right now." He demands, but I can't follow his order.

"You're right," Simmons removes the gun from my head, "we are friends." I sigh softly, rising from the floor. I turn to face him looking into his eyes. They're full of sorrow, hatred, and pain. He shakes his head. "I want you to forgive me."

Before I can move to disarm him, he slides the gun up and fires. The noises scatters throughout the room destroying my hearing in the process. My throat roars out a violent yell which goes unheard by my own ears. I tumble onto the floor feeling an unnatural pain in my thigh. At this moment, I'm not sure which hurts more, my ears or my thigh. I reach my shaking hands down wrapping them around the source of pain. Liquid seeps onto them, staining them a dark red colour.

I see Simmons reach down and grip my lighter. He appears soaked from head to toe. I release a whimper realizing he has coated himself in gasoline. He glides toward Grant's station giving it a hard stare. He glances over at me then flicks my lighter on. He instantly catches fire, tossing my lighter toward me. I see his mouth wide open, releasing screams which I can't hear due to my still deaf ears. He drops to the floor vanishing behind the desks.

Not long after he disappears, the rest of the office begins to ignite. I watch the flames leap throughout the office consuming everything in its way. I recognize the smell, but instead of embracing it, I'm fearing it. I lift my torso up, but the ache in my thigh prevents me from moving anywhere. I reach over and grip onto my lighter. If I'm going down, I want to go down with my partner.

I hear a noise in the distance. I squeeze my thigh a little too tight involuntarily letting out a yell which I feel vibrate in my throat. Smoke enters into my lungs quickly. My body lands back on the ground as I forcefully cough out the toxins. I release one of my hands from my thigh and bring it up to my face. I wrap my arm across my nose and mouth to keep the smoke from entering my body. I tilt my head to the side and see a figure swiftly moving through the room. I close my eyes thinking back to Quela. If I can't see, I have to rely on my other senses. I focus on my hearing, attempting to trick my ears back into working.

"Phoe!"

I shoot my eyes open feeling relieved I haven't lost my hearing after all. I stare up at the figure towering over me. His face shows horror as he reaches down and scoops me off of the floor. I release a shriek of pain finally hearing how horrible I sound. The flames rhythmically dance around us tearing down the ceiling. Each rapid step Fierce makes sends an uncomfortable ache through my body. He forces us through the door and into the stairwell. I grip onto his sweatshirt and press my hand into his chest attempting to throw myself out of his hands to allow me to die here. Unfortunately, my strength is weak compared to his.

He charges through the door to the outside world. I feel his stomach expand as he inhales clean, fresh air. He releases a hoarse cough along with me. A shiver enters my body as I'm suddenly exposed to the cold night air. Fierce pulls me closer to his body uttering an apologize in my no longer deaf ear. My eyelids begin to feel heavy and force themselves shut, but Fierce jolts me awake quickly.

I turn my head to the side seeing the car come into view. Gabe throws himself out and pulls open the backseat door. Fierce gently sets me inside and crawls in after. He situates my back against the door opposite of his. I rest my head on the back of the seat as he reaches for my numb, injured leg. He elevates it onto his lap as Gabe slips into the driver's seat. He tosses back a first aid kit which he keeps in the compartment. Fierce quickly searches through the kit with trembling hands. The car roars to life and Gabe speeds off.

"Turn up the heat." Fierce barks ripping his sweatshirt off. "She's chilled." He wraps his sweatshirt around me.

"Logan," Gabe calls from the front, "I'll focus on driving, you focus on her." Fierce turns back to me pulling a large gauze pad from the kit. He rips it open and looks at me.

"This may hurt a little." He rests the pad on my thigh and presses against it. My throat begins to feel sore from the involuntary shrieks it keeps releasing.

"Fuck you!" I scream. "That hurt a lot!" Gabe chuckles from the front. I open my hands from curled fists and feel the dried, sticky blood still lingering. "I don't want this on my hands." I wiggle my arms out from his sweatshirt and flash him my stained hands. He uses his free hand and searches through the kit again. The ruffling sounds are rhythmic and soothing, making me aware of how sleepy I've become.

"Hey Detope!" Fierce shakes my arm helping me keep my eyes open. "I'm going to need you to stay awake, okay?" He asks leaning closer to me. I slowly nod my head. "What level of pain are we at here?" He's worried and panicked. I can hear it in his voice.

"I don't feel a thing." I could barely hear my voice, but I still catch his attention. "Probably don't need to go to the hospital." My eyes begin to close again, but I see him roll his at my sarcasm.

"Brestion is going as fast as he can, Detope." He sighs finally wiping the dried blood off my hands.

"I hate you both." The car is silent and I can't force my eyes open to see their reactions. "You knew I didn't want to do this." Not only am I battling my eyelids, my consciousness is dwindling as well. "Fuck y--" My voice trails off.

"Detope?" Fierce whispers grabbing onto my arm. "Phoe?" He says louder shaking me. My eyes are glued shut. "Phoenix!"

His voice fades as I drift out of consciousness.