The bullet whistled past, just inches from his face. John dived for cover. By the time he reached for his gun, the dark figure retreated in the shadows.
“Damn!” he yelled.
The lone trooper of the Special German Counter Intelligence division had suspected the blonde quadragenarian right from the beginning. The fifth platoon of the Corza division had been assigned for the elimination of enemy spies at the Frankfurt area.
The Frankfurt Petrochemical Refinery was an ideal place to hide, especially during the night.
The four British spies were finally caught relaying vital intel from a nearby warehouse. The five-man team of Germans was quick to pursue the enemy spies, They had already managed to escape and sabotage all potential evidence. The Germans managed to kill one of the Brits at the warehouse itself while the rest barely escaped, Luckily they didn’t have enough time to leave cover their tracks. They were finally tracked to an old abandoned factory nearby.
Hector, the leader of the British team was completely aware of his pursuers. A war veteran under the British Secret Service, the strongly built Scott was truly a force to be reckoned with. The factory was a familiar ground for him. He licked his lips at the thought. “This is going to be a lovely evening.”
He cautiously took the left bank. The German winter was setting in and Hector took a moment to feel the chill of the cold wind passing through his vests. Moments later, a muffled noise froze Hector. Automatically his hand reached for his Colt .45.
New prisoners were being transferred to the region and power had to be diverted to the city area leaving the suburbs in darkness. The factory lights were dim and flickering perpetually. A perfect hunting ground for the Brit.
The facility was divided into three sections- the main hall in the middle that housed all the heavy machinery, with two side sections housing additional supplies.
John was going for the other end of the building where he expected to find the generators.
Hector spotted a shadow around the corner. The next second, darkness. It was a girl. Hector easily anticipated her movements and moments later she was caught. He smelt her hair and felt her curves. Such a waste, he thought.
He silently disposed of the body in a corner while he quickly eliminated two more Germans. Only two left. Hector was smiling now.
A while later John spotted his comrades: a broken neck and a bloody chest. He retraced his steps back as his eyes focused as best they could. He was highly effective in the dark but Hector was far better.
Soon he regrouped with Bracken. The strong seven footer signalled him and they silently crept further ahead. Finally, they reached the main assembly line.
“The lights are out.” said Bracken.
“I did it”, said John, “Julienne is dead.”
“What?” Bracken couldn’t think clear. The woman was quick as a fox. The Corza team was going down like dominoes.
The other two spies were following Julienne. The duo now advanced slowly, anticipating their best positions. Hector separated from the main group just after entering the factory. He was still nowhere to be seen. ‘Where is that bastard!?’ Only a few yards separated them. In the darkness, a quick figure passed between the two. The two readied their guns, but the figure was gone as quickly as it had appeared.
The two now stared at each other, or what they thought they were doing. A big pillar was standing between the two this time. That was not there a moment earlier. It was Bracken.
Bracken gave a decimating blow to the head while John took a head shot. The two soldiers fell almost at the same time. Only one left.
Hector heard the noise and realised his new situation. It was two against one now. The only advantage was that the Germans were completely exposed now. John also knew this and the two Germans were quick to make haste with Bracken taking the lead.
Time was of utmost importance for Hector but his Colt .45 allowed him an effective range of only 4 yards. He finally chose his target.
The Germans were still on the move, completely unaware of the approaching danger. Hector approached the two from behind in the darkness. He threw a metal rod between the two Germans. The sudden noise caught Bracken’s attention. At the same time, Hector got to John. John fell hard while Bracken turned to face their assailant. A loud noise followed and the rest was total darkness.
Hector took his time reloading and proceeded to take care of John but by that time, John regained his footing.
The bullet whistled past him, just inches from his face. John dived for cover. By the time he reached for his gun, the dark figure retreated to the shadows.
“Damn” John yelled. ”If it’s a death match you want, a death match you’ll get!”
Hector checked his ammunition. Only two rounds left.
John checked his. Three.
Time was less and in an hour, it was going to be dawn: game over. Both knew this, and they had to act fast.
The morning light started piercing the factory walls. The huge tanks rose high along with several other machines. A quiet place and a lonely tomb.
The steps were now clearly visible on the factory floor. John slowly trailed the footprints and caught Hector right in the open.
John engaged but the British agent was equally agile. The Brit dived 8 o’ clock while the German fired two successive bursts. One hit metal while the second one hit the left shoulder. Few seconds later, the spy was back in the shadows.
Hector was hit.
John slowed his pace as he re-entered the main hall. An eerie silence engulfed the factory. The little light that entered the area made the place seem even darker. Hector spotted his target and he went into position.
John finally reached the other end of the factory.
‘Minutes’ Hector thought, ‘Only twenty-five minutes left.’
The facing wall was filled with factory waste. John’s scanning eyes finally locked onto a rounded figure. He was just in front of the pile of junk as he steadied his aim and fired the head-shot.
The object was displaced accompanied by a loud metallic clang. It was a decoy. That was John’s final mistake.
Hector, buried inside the junk pile, rose to his full height and pounced on the German.
John’s gun was already removed from his hand while Hector aimed his Colt at the Britisher’s head. Moments later, everything turned black.
“Mom!” John shouted in agony.
The lady in front had pulled the plug and the game had ended.
“Its way past your bedtime mister!” the lady babbled; her face deadlier than the Britisher’s Colt ’69.
John rose and finally went to bed.
Three hundred miles away, a boy was staring at a similar screen. It read:
Call of Duty: Dawnville
>John left the game.
Hector gave a satisfied smile. John was saved, only for this time.
“Next time my friend, next time.”
Cover Art: Silhouette problem by sam stephen kemp
Submitted to a Featured Fiction Writing Prompt: Mystery & Suspense and the Daily Post prompts: Fight, What a Twist!, Survival, Resist, Radical, Mistake, Opening Line, Fearless, Fool me Once, Risk, Brilliant Disguise, Giggle, Daring, Hesitate, Last but not Least, The Perfect Game, Chaotic, Subdued, Edge, Dilemma, Clumsy, Frivolous, Careful, Anticipation, Dramatic, Elusive & Foreshadow