Miscalculations [Closed] - Printable Version
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RE: Miscalculations [Closed] - megs - 05-15-2017
Katanya pressed her lips together as the computer was shoved closed. She held the device in her lap and watched as Owen got out of the vehicle. She all but threw the laptop back into the backseat, her nerves were getting the best of her. She couldn’t stall anymore, it was time. She sighed and closed her eyes, pulling her side arm out of the holster on her thigh. She inspected the firearm, a gift from Owen, to make sure that everything was in order. Pushing open her own door, she stepped out of the vehicle and re-holstered the weapon. She nodded sharply at Owen’s orders, moving around him momentarily to gather the rest of her gears. In seconds she was strapped in and armed and ready to go. She threw the keys back into the front seat and shut the door.
Nothing else needed to be said between them. Owen and Katanya had been partners for almost twenty years and as they approached the abandoned silo, all silent and deadly the past twenty years seemed to flash before her eyes. Every mission, every task force, every stupid meeting they’d had to sit through flooded through her brain. Bombarding her with a guilty feeling. Her mouth went dry, she swallowed down the bile the rose from the empty pit of her stomach.
Katanya motioned for Owen to break off from her, go around the side of the building. “Doors open on the side,” she muttered, knowing he would be able to hear her though his ear piece. “Teams waiting, I’ll go around and flank them.”
She changed direction before waiting for a confirmation. Owen usually took the lead but he was mostly in the dark on this one, having had less time to prepare.
Just as she had planned it.
She’d put too much work into this plan to turn back now. Too many years of her life at risk to let it blow up.
When they were out of sight of each other, Katanya cut her open line with open and slipped the speaker from her ear, letting it dangle over her shoulder. She released her rifle, letting it hang down at her side. Pushing back her sleeve revealed another radio, she spoke quick and precise instructions in Russian over the line.
Not more stalling.
It was time.
She removed the radio from her wrist and chucked it into the distance. She pulled down her sleeve, shoved the piece back into her ear and picked up her rifle, slipping into the open door on her side of the building.
She opened the line with Owen again. She knew she wouldn't have missed any chatter from him. He wasn’t the chatty type. “Second floor,” she instructed. “Third room on the right is the only one large enough to contain the room from the feed. Agents are on the floor, I’ll meet you up there.”
Katanya was intentionally leading him right to Anita. The girl was being held by her accomplices, currently at gunpoint and waiting for her father to arrive. Anita’s broken fingers came to mind and she was filled with a rage; she tried to redirect that feeling to man she was actually directed to kill.
It was time.
RE: Miscalculations [Closed] - saronym - 05-16-2017
“Got it.” Owen had replied while moving towards the building with her directions in his mind. He could visualize the floor plan somewhat in his mind, having reviewed it briefly that evening. His training had kicked in and he entered the building as he would any other where potential hostiles could attack him. That is to say, carefully. He sidled into each room and swept it with his rifle. He had an attachment with a flashlight that illuminated dark areas.
“Understood.” He whispered back through the communications when she informed him which room they would check first.
He mounted the stairs and as he reached the platform with a door leading to the second floor, he thought he could hear muffled sounds of distress. A little girl. A wave of sickness and a sudden need to hurry up overtook him. He policed himself and proceeded as slowly as he could manage.
He pulled open the door to the second floor and immediately the sound was louder. He continued down the hall with his rifle trained on the door he was headed for. Please, please, please. Be okay. Please.
He opened comminque with Katanya, “She’s here.” That was his way of telling her he was entering the room now.
He reached for the door with a hand that trembled. He hesitated and then wrenched it open. Nothing had prepared him for what he would see inside. A broken little girl - his daughter - cradling a purple and deformed hand and sobbing over it.
“It’s alright baby.” He said to Anita to comfort her. The words felt foreign in his mouth as he held a loaded deadly weapon to his face while he said it. He couldn’t decide which man to focus on. There wasn’t a clear leader. The aim of his gun shifted to each man in turn so he could get a good look at them. “I’m here. I’m right here.”
Owen’s eyes swept the room to the armed men guarding her. “Alright boys,” he said to address the other men, “how are we doing this? CAF agents are on site, so any further harm to her will not go unpunished. Let’s get this done peacefully.”
Owen had yet to figure out he’d been betrayed. He would soon enough.
RE: Miscalculations [Closed] - megs - 05-21-2017
“Daddy!” Anita's tail perked to the sound of his voice and she cried out for him. The word splitting through terrified and painful sobs. She leaned forward in the chair, reaching out to him with her good hand. Large fingers clamped into her shoulder and pulled her back against the chair. She wiggled against the harsh grip and her wet sobs were renewed. There was shuffle among the men that surrounded Anita, half of the guns that had been trained on her, shifted towards Owen instead.
Other than that none of the men moved. Or spoke. They had their orders, and they’d seen what had happened to the last man that hadn’t followed instructions.
“I WANT MY DADDY,” she demanded, somewhere between a sob and a shriek. Even armed and pointing a gun, Anita knew her father was the safest choice. Her tail twisted and flickered in agitation, limp pigtails bobbed pathetically with her heaving cries.
Katanya was just outside the door. She could hear Owen addressing her men over Anita crying. The sound was breaking her heart. Her palms were sweating. Her heart was racing. If she didn’t know any better she would think she was having a panic attack. She counted her breaths. Three second inhale, then an exhale.
She dropped the rifle long enough to rub her hands over her fatigues. She was stalling. She didn’t know if she could do it.
She didn’t have a choice.
Katanya lifted her gun to her face. Stepping around the door she entered the room. Instead of coming up to Owen’s side to support him, she stopped directly behind him. Katanya was in a crisis, still unsure of what to do, but despite this her voice rang out calm and clear behind Owen’s back.
“Drop your weapon,” she demanded. “Hands in the air. The girl lives with your full cooperation.”
RE: Miscalculations [Closed] - saronym - 05-25-2017
The sound of the child’s terror and desperation for him rent his soul into pieces. He wanted nothing more than to gather the child in his arms and hide her away there. Away from all the hurt and fear and evil things the world had loaded on her. The man who’d grabbed his daughter and shoved her violently back against the chair now had the full focus of Owen’s gun. He stepped forward then, quickly. Almost faster that his mind could move. The gun was pressed tight to his chest and his finger rested on the trigger. Owen took his second hand from the gun and shoved at the man. “Hands off. Hands off!” He demanded.
The situation was escalating when Katanya instructed him to disarm himself. He was standing over Anita protectively, facing down every gun pointed at him. Confusion flashed in his eyes for a moment, but he refused to show anymore alarm before Anita. She was scared enough. He bottled it all inside. All the sudden rush of realization that he’d been betrayed. That this situation was much worse than he’d dreamed of.
“Everything’s going to be okay, Anita. I promise. I promise. Daddy will make it okay.”
He said even as he lowered the weapon in his hand to the floor with slow and deliberate movements. He knew the drill. Owen slowly straightened, both hands held palms out in a show that he wasn’t dangerous to a group of people armed with automatic weapons.
“What are you doing, Katanya.” He asked low in the back of his throat. There was no inflection to the question. “What are you doing.”
His mind worked to consider all the avenues he could take to make it out of the situation alive with his daughter in tact. Coming up with very little, he decided to focus on Anita's safety first. And that meant complying.