9th February 2017
Natalia
I sat up a little and Matías tightened his grip around me, I pushed the hair out of my face and looked for a clock.
"Go back to sleep," he mumbled and pushed me back so I was laying down again, "you don't have to get up it's quarter to seven."
I laid my head back down on his arm which I had been using as a pillow and turned to face him. "I've got to go."
He swore under his breath "and you need to check on EJ, Papá wants him secure after this."
Matt saluted and I grabbed his right hand and raised it. "Wrong hand." I pointed out.
He rolled his eyes and sat up, detangling our limbs, shrugging on a sweater and some jeans. I tossed his Marlboro's in his direction and he caught them with a grin, "thanks." He scrubbed a hand through his light brown hair, and flipping open the cigarette packet.
I swung my legs out of bed, cringing in the cool morning air "don't be long, I'm going for a shower." I didn't want LJ, despite being knocked out on sleeping pills, to be left alone for too long, he could awake at any point.
He smirked "want some company?"
"Be quick and I'll think about it."
LJ was just beginning to stir when I looked into his room after the shower, I walked in and shook his arm slightly, he turned and faced me "Mum?" He mumbled, rubbing his eyes sleepily, I shook my head "no."
At the sound of my voice LJ sat bolt upright, pulling against the zip-ties as he fought to get away, he cringed against the wall, like a terrified animal.
"Woah, woah, woah, Kid, calm down before you hurt yourself." I grabbed his shoulders so he woud face me "I'm gonna take the ties off. You try anything and I swear-"
"I wont. I promise I won't." his eyes were wide and fearful, but he wasn't lying, I flicked open the knife and slid it in-between the skin and plastic and carefully cut it off. "If you go into the kitchen M is making pancakes."
He nodded. One movement up. One movement down.
I slipped the knife into my pocket and checked that the Remington was still tucked neatly in the waistband of my jeans in the small of my back; holding it a holster would be too eye-catching, while putting it in the rucksack with the rifle would mean it was too far from reach if anything was to go wrong.
My maps and pens and pencils were still on the island of the kitchen from where I dumped them last night, I squeezed past Matías in the tiny run-down kitchen which was a total shrine to the 80's, I hopped up onto a stool and laid out the map on the cracked veneered surface.
A four story building on New York Avenue was surrounded with red Sharpie, it was a fairly seedy area, and shootings weren't out of place. About 1000 yards south-west was a parking structure, I circled it with black and drew the line of trajectory, and began to work out the angle using the local weather and wind distances.
"What's happening." Matt asked, peaking over my shoulder and kissing my neck.
I whispered in Spanish "no frente a él."
"Dándole la luz verde?"
I nodded, "moverse rápido después de las once." I looked him in the eyes "whatever happens."
My target would be with people that wouldn't hesitate to shoot first and ask questions later and if my 30 second window was missed the car would leave and I wouldn't be able to run from them forever.
"Are you two, like, a thing?" A small voice asked from the round wooden table in the corner.
Raising my eyebrow, I glanced at LJ, "it's complicated." We both said simultaneously. I moved from the seat and picked up my rucksack, inside was a sniper rifle, ready to be assembled at the rooftop.
"Buena suerte."
I kissed him "I don't need luck." I shrugged on the bag and picked up the burn laptop that I used to get my data and weather predictions. Matías smirked and picked up the Xbox controller from the counter, "Check in at ten?" I unlocked the coded door and undone the lock on the outer door.
"Sure, don't get too carried away with Resident Evil 7."
"I wont. Lets hope this kid's as good as you."
I smiled and shut the door. There was an old Jeep parked on the muddy road, it was a two or so hour drive to DC, and I still have to make a small pit-stop and probably need fuel at some point before reaching DC.
It took roughly about twenty minutes till I reached a small body of water, it was empty and secluded, I wiped off all the surfaces before tossing the 2009 MacBook on the soggy ground.
I reached into the back and pulled out the sledge hammer which laid along the back seat and raised it above my head before bringing it down on the middle, breaking it in half and shattering the screen.
With my hands protected by latex gloves I picked up the pieces and lobbed them out into the water.
After the rings of water met the bank I nodded, satisfied that the laptop was obsolete, and headed back up the hill to the Jeep.
Jumping in the front seat, I turned up the radio where Jet Pack Blues was playing. With a smirk, I planted my foot on the gas and sped onto the road.
...
I tossed the keys which were secured in my finished Starbucks cup into a random bin along the walkway and pulled my light grey beanie pulled over my plaited hair and secured the matte gold Beats over the top, I scrolled through my music till I found My Song; for me this was DESTROYA.
The dummy was set and the call had been made, I raised my foot and sent it in the area around the handle, causing it to spring open, sending the powerful odor of cheap lager and urine wafting at me.
Scrunching my nose up, I secured a bandana around my mouth and nose before gingerly travelling to the rooftop, I quickly assembled my weapon, purchased from a not so legit pawn shop next to the boarder of Mexico and Texas a few months back. It wasn't long before the screech of tyres could be heard, I glanced at my watch; twelve minutes wasn't bad.
Picking up my phone again I picked out a new song; Welcome To The Black Parade.
My thumb falling on the play button as the dark blue car skidded around the corner, I nodded along to the beat as I watched my target and the suspected accompanying people began to clear the structure. I slid the bullet in the chamber and rested my cheek agains the rest, peering down the scope, watching the corroded door plastered with graffiti.
It swung open, the first two ran out, my target was the third. I followed him with my scope, they had a handgun but was most defiantly outgunned. I watched his face, it seemed familiar, I felt something bleed through.
"W-who are you?" I stuttered, a different man was kneeling by her sleeping body, this man was different to the other, he had dark grey hair and blue eyes, his eyes held a lot of pain though I could tell he was kind, the other man had black hair and brown eyes, I glanced between them and I felt the pain begin to strangle my airways.
"I'm Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS." He told me, I relaxed a little, he worked for one of the people I could trust.
"Gibba? That a funny name." I giggled at the nickname I appointed the older man, he smiled slightly and nodded at me, seeming to agree with me.
Growling, I shook the memory away, trying to focus back on my shot before I missed it altogether, Papá warned me about this, I should've listened. I realigned my shot and tensed my finger on the trigger as he stood up, rooted to the spot.
The stillest target I could hope for, former Marines seem to have a sixth sense when it comes to death, a gut feeling, which normally makes them hard to shoot.
Smirking slightly, I pressed the trigger as an alarm went off, his head moved a fraction and the .308 bullet grazed the space above his eyebrow before powering through the door and most probably jamming into the concrete wall behind.
"Shit." I growled, rolling off the discarded metal table I was using and grabbing my bag, he had dropped to his knees, pressing his fingers to the bloody graze by his eye as I dismantled the gun, shoving it into the rucksack before slinging it on my back. I jumped up, being noticed by a man wielding binoculars on the parking garage.
I sighed, and ran at the opposite side of the roof, obviously the streets were a no-go.
The edge rushed towards me, expanding into a chasm of nothingness.
Suddenly I was in that nothingness, rushing through it, the air roaring and swirling in my ears.
Then my feet rammed into the ground, I jumped a little and launched back into a run, vaulting over crappy, old air con units and in-between buildings.
"Up there!" Someone yelled, followed by car door slamming.
I spun on my heel to double back and take a different route, though a blonde-haired woman ran out onto the roof I just vacated, gun drawn, and finger on the trigger.
"NCIS. You're under arrest." A man, brown short hair, stepped out in front of me gun drawn too, if my research was correct he was Timothy McGee, married to Abby McGee- formerly Sciuto. Meaning that the blonde haired woman was Ellie Bishop, an ex-NSA analyst.
There was a different woman too, coming in to the left of the man, presumably Quinn, the FLETC trainer. I raised an eyebrow, and moved onto my toes, glancing between the agents.
Screw it.
I launched into a sprint, covering the meters in seconds, the bullets dancing in the air around me as I threw myself off the end, soaring over the single track road, it was the ballsiest jump I had ever undertaken and will be a painful finish if I misjudged it.
I slammed into the side of the building, which was considerably shorter than the ten story building I leaped from. Scrabbling for a hold, I wedged my Converses into one of the bigger holes in the old, bleached brickwork and pushed myself up, gripping the edge of the roof and pulling myself up.
Without warning a numbing pain spread throughout my left shoulder, causing my arm to collapse beneath me, and I felt the sickly feeling of blood trickling down my back. Shuddering, I slowly dropped down the side of the building using my right arm. I bit my lip as pain bolted down my arm every time I took a step.
Waiting at the end was Torres- one of the newest members of the team- a deep undercover agent, he moved his hand towards his gun holster.
I moved too.
I tackled him to the ground, we scrapped, predominately me throwing the punches. The guy caught my cheekbone, sending me to the side, and pulled out a gun, "freeze."
Throwing my fist forward, it caught his nose, crunching as it gave way under my knuckles, he fell to the side and I yanked out my Remington and held it against his head. "You wont shoot." He told me, spitting out a pool of blood mingled with saliva, I pulled back the safety and pressed the muzzle further against his skull, "the last guy said that, he's dead now."
"NCIS." Accompanied by "drop your weapon." I breathed deeply, not moving from where I had pinned the Torres guy, I could easily take out Quinn and McGee who were in front of me, but the two behind me would send a frenzy of bullets into my back. Sighing I placed my gun on the grubby pavement and raised my hands.
I was forced onto the ground next to Torres, cuffs slapped onto my wrist as Bishop patted me down
"I have to tell you, these bracelets aren't really cutting it for me Mr Gibbs, sure you can't find some prettier ones." I said as they removed my knives. "You have the right to remain silent, anything you say may be used as evidence." Was the only reply I got.
Bishop pulled me up to my feet, sending pain rolling across my back.
Then I was face-to-face with my target. Drumroll please Ladies and Gentlemen. The one and the only. Special Agent Gibbs.
He paled when he saw my face, I smirked cynically "what's the matter Special Agent Gibbs?"
The agent was silent.
"Looks like you've seen a ghost."
This will be the last batch of chapters for a while but I still hope to finish this book the end of May/start of June.
I am also sorry that I have Azaleas music choice as mine (I understand that it's not to everyone's taste)