The man cut the last link of chain and then pushed the links at the border of the hole a little apart to make the hole as big as it could possibly be. He did so very slowly and made almost no noise. The grounds were completely silent, apart from the deep grumbles of the engines of a couple of army jeeps in the distance. His forehead and neck glistened with sweat. He kept wiping it off with his glove-enclosed hand and as a result the glove was dripping wet by now. He kept blinking rapidly, partly because of the insects in the air but mostly out of nervousness.
He clutched his long rifle in both his hands as he stealthily walked through the chain and pushed his back to a large shipping container just as a mechanic came into view after fixing a circuit board near the large water tank in the south-east corner of the grounds.
Marco Poole flicked the cigarette butt out of the window of his dark blue Subaru Forester XT which was hurtling towards Houston on I-10. He picked up the black Houston Rockets cap that was frying on the dashboard from the heat and he tossed it into the backseat. A man sat distractedly in the passenger seat beside him. He kept fidgeting with the sunglasses in his hands, repeatedly opening and closing the temples. His eyes would drift to the rear-view mirror every now and again and they would thoroughly scan the road behind before settling on the road in front again. Occasionally he took a sip or two from the water bottle in the bottle stand in the door.
“Are you sure they don’t see us?” He finally asked Marco Poole, with a tinge of concern in his voice.
“Good work.” The SAC chuckled satisfactorily and rubbed his palm together. “We’ve got the dirt bags, haven’t we?” he asked the agent rhetorically. His mind was already beginning to move on from what happened to Wesley and he heartily thumped Cross on the back. He came back from his elation in a few seconds.
Miles Ellis scratched his chin for a few moments and then he started pacing slowly towards his left. Cross and Weiss looked expectantly at him. The Shermanator, however, just smiled as if he knew what was coming. Expecting another one of those booming orders, all the other agents at the desk had also stopped working and were all half-swiveled towards the SAC.
This is Chapter Two in ‘The Traitor Series’. Haven’t read Chapter One? Do it now by clicking here! “It wasn’t his fault and you know it!” Special Agent In-Charge, Miles Ellis pushed his palm onto the desk to emphasise his point. He was red in the face and was defiantly defending his own. “Now, Miles. […]
This post contains a fair amount of police codes, the meanings of which I have listed at the bottom of the post. A bullet whizzed past Wesley’s left ear and he saw it flattened itself against a pile of scrap metal. Wesley kept running but took a brief glance to his right, to look […]