Very dramatic and tense cliff-hanger. Trigger being pulled, lives in the balance (I remember when the biggest drama in my life was when a boy I liked fancied my best friend.... that might have been last month.)
The time between pulling a trigger and a gun releasing it’s deadly cargo of hurtling metal is probably less than milliseconds. Strangely though it is ample time to wish, wish and wish again that you hadn’t done it. (Who knew my mind was capable of working that fast)
On the other hand the time between hearing the clicking noise of an empty gun and having the gun seized and your goggles ripped off your face... well that all seemed to happen remarkably fast.
I stared up at Daniels face and found myself unable to decide if I was relieved or not that I hadn’t shot him. He sneered at me, his cool, calculating demeanour returning, “I have to admit Friday, I’m hurt and more than a little impressed right now.” He grabbed my arm tightly pulling me closer. “But neither of those facts can prevent what comes next.”
Not! Not! Not! I’m not relieved, I’m not relieved!!!
Okay, I am relieved, but not that he was alive and free to kill me at his pleasure. I was relieved at the sudden and convenient distraction provided by Michael and Katie as they came crashing into the room knocking through the door. This proved to be enough for me to snatch the goggles from (a fairly startled) Daniel and pull myself out of his grip before disappearing and heading for the door. (All the while hoping that Michael and Katie hadn’t seen me in those few seconds.)
Running through the corridors, I didn’t even have a chance to put the goggle back on my head, I was just holding them up to my face as I ran. I got to the stairwell and continued my general fleeing. (I’d say that it was a plan but a plan involves more cognitive thought than an internal voice screaming, ”RUN!!!!”)
And run I did.
Down six flights of stairs before I fell down wheezing and gasping and suddenly remembered I still had five more floors to go. (I’ll just stay here then, make my home in that little corner and forage for evil scraps of food.)
I was using the hand rail to drag my aching, gasping, coughing body to its feet when all of a sudden there was a whoosh and Katie flew straight down the centre of the stairwell, heading full speed for the bottom before making a sharp veering turn off and out of sight. (An odd sight for most, but for me, only number 6 in the strange things I’ve seen co-workers do this week) I was still leaning over the edge of the railing watching the air where she used to be when I felt something soft, fabric like, land against my shoulder and neck before dropping down. I quickly pulled back to see that it was a long, hanging, black rope. Good thing I had moved back because before the thought “why is there rope?” had finished crossing my mind, there was a very dashing and battle worn (mmmmmm action Michael) man sliding down it, past my head and landing on the ground before taking off on foot in the same direction as Katie.
Suddenly realising that all the equipment and gadgets (that I often spend hours cataloguing and filling out paper work for) is in fact used to prevent spies from being incapacitated by humiliatingly simple things like say A FLIGHT OF STAIRS!
At the bottom of the stairs I was nearly out of the woods, so to speak. (If by woods you mean a maze of death, destruction, bullets, ugly walls and marble floors, which become a very serious falling hazard when covered in blood and bullet casings.)
There was just one thing between me and the wide open world...
I peeked through the glass panel on the doors (On my tippy toes) to see Michael throwing one guard at four others (As if they were a bowling ball and pins) before turning to help Katie who was on the floor, trying to push herself to her feet. As Michael helped her to stand I could see a bunch more men (I know a bunch is such a specific amount, am new at this so shut up.) running into the lobby and towards them.
One doesn’t know where one gets the strength or the energy to do something so heroic as I did right at that moment. I pushed wide the door, ran out into the lobby putting myself between my friends and the oncoming mass of armed henchmen (friends? Okay one friend and one colleague... or is it one friend and one kind of colleague who only remembers my name because of the unbearable awkwardness of him knowing I’ve got a crush on him??)I ran between the two opposing groups of people and skidded on to my side in front of the guards...
...causing them to all topple over me in their rush to get to the “real” spies and also because they couldn’t see me. Thus saving the occupied Katie and Michael from these rampaging hoards.
True heroism needs not praise... or thanks... or adulation.... although if someone were to attempt to offer some... okay there were three guards and I basically tripped them... Happy now!
I also stopped one of them from grabbing his gun by snatching it away.
Which, as an aside, is really bloody funny. To make thing vanish from right before people’s eyes. (Heehee. I have, of course, never done this with my sister and a glass of wine.)
Just before I made it to the front door (and sweet, sweet freedom/bathroom facilities) I saw Michael tearing through the men I had just tripped, tossing them about the way I toss dirty laundry when looking for something that smells inoffensive enough to wear. As he threw the men around I saw a small red dot appear on his back, moving up towards his heart. I turned quickly and on the mezzanine, just above where I was standing, there was a gunman taking aim at one of the handsomest men that ever lived.
Now this part I am a little fuzzy on. I remember still having the gun I took from the guard, I remember pointing it and pulling the trigger (second time that day... that hour!) and I remember thinking over and over than I hoped it was loaded. I remember a loud... no... Deafening (shooting a gun is so much different when you don’t have those ear muff/protector things on) cracking noise.
And I remember my arm being pushed back hard by the recoil, so hard it hurt in my shoulder almost as much as dislocating it. (Come to think of it... same shoulder... just realised why it hurt so much. Sigh)
I remember it all actually. I remember the guy dropping down and me running out the door without looking back. I remember throwing the gun down a drain; I remember throwing up in the hotel bathroom and having a shower to get the blood off me before Michael and Katie got back.
The part I’m fuzzy on is this. I have no idea if killed wounded or even hit that gunman...
Which I have to say isn’t exactly sitting well with me tonight. Especially since I am heading home for Christmas and have to be with my family while they chatter on about gifts and the wedding and other trivial things while I sit and wonder three things.
1) Am I going to get caught and go to prison?
2) Is Daniel going to kill me and all my loved ones in our beds tonight?
3) Did I kill someone?